Destiny - The Circle of Life

• Chapter 1: Awakening the Power Within

Chapter 1: Awakening the Power Within

Hi, my name is Destiny. I was born on this earth with a hidden power, believed to control fate, except I have no idea how to use my power. To make things even harder, I was born into a harsh reality: a violent, abusive father, a mother trapped in her emotional turmoil, and siblings who bear the scars of our shared trauma. I wish I could change their fate. Each day, I fight to alter my fate. Instead, I find myself sinking deeper into the endless cycle of life’s struggles. I haven’t given up yet, but I still lack the skills to unlock the power I know is buried within me.

Though my family would never believe it, I am far from weak. With a sharp wit, I am always thinking, always calculating. In many ways, the life I’ve been forced to endure has given me a mind that sees through every lie and every manipulation. I’ve taught myself to analyze, to prepare for the worst, and to predict the actions of those around me. I know my family better than they know themselves—I’ve had to for my survival.

Growing up in an abusive home, I developed the habit of reading each family member’s moods and ranking them by threat. It’s a mental map I’ve crafted over the years, constantly updating it with each new argument and betrayal. I’ve learned to anticipate who will lash out first, who will find fault in the tiniest of my actions, and who will sit back, silently complicit. Every move I make is calculated to keep me one step ahead, even if that step only buys me a moment of peace.

I’ve mastered survival, but this is no life worth living. I often think about the saying that if people could unlock their brain’s full potential, they could achieve miracles. But I don’t need miracles—I need an escape. This isn’t a fairytale story; it’s the cruel grip of fate, which seems to take pleasure in keeping me trapped where I’ve always been.

[DREAM] ~ Dreamwalking

I had this dream once, and it felt so vivid like I was someone else. In it, I was standing in this suffocating room, fists clenched and shaking with frustration, replaying a brutal argument I’d just had with my father. My voice cut through the air, raw and furious—louder than I’d ever dared to be.  

“Give me a break, you lying piece of shit! How dare you dump your guilt on me for leaving?” I had screamed, the words trembling with years of bottled resentment. I could feel every ounce of rage in me spilling out. “I had no choice but to go. Otherwise, Leah would be dead by now! Mom asked me to protect Leah, and I did. I gave up years of my life in this miserable hellhole to keep her safe. But when she graduated, I was done. Done with your abuse, done with her manipulation.”

It was like I had finally unleashed everything I’d been holding back, and I could still feel the weight of my words echoing in the room, cutting through the heavy silence. For a moment, it was like I’d broken free, unchaining myself from everything holding me down.  

“Do your worst,” I spat, grabbing my bag and heading for the door. As I turned, I threw one last dagger of a line over my shoulder: “But forget me. I’m gone.”  

The dream ended there, and I woke up feeling like I was there, living through it. It was haunting and empowering all at once. But to be honest, oh, how I wish I had the courage. It seems all the courage I needed was only in my dreams.

[AWAKE] ~ Awakening

Let me tell you how I discovered my hidden powers—it’s a story that still feels surreal when I think about it. It all began one seemingly ordinary morning. I had just hopped out of the shower, reached for a towel, and happened to catch my reflection in the bathroom mirror. That’s when I noticed something strange.

You know how you never truly see your own back? Every detail, mole, and imperfection is hidden from your own view. Sure, I knew I had a birthmark—I’d been told about it—but I had never actually seen it myself. Until that moment, it was more of a fact than something tangible. The mark was in an unusual spot, between my shoulder blades, just below the vertebra at the base of my neck.

I leaned and twisted awkwardly, trying to get a better look at my birthmark. But it was impossible to see it clearly in the mirror. My curiosity got the best of me. Grabbing my phone, I dashed to my room, feeling slightly ridiculous as I contorted to take a picture of my back. After snapping awkward photos, I finally captured a decent image of the birthmark.

When I swiped to the last picture and zoomed in, I froze. It was not just some random blotch on my skin. The mark was too perfect, too symmetrical. It looked like a deliberate design, almost like a tattoo—but how could that be? I had never gotten a tattoo in my life, and I was pretty sure I would remember the pain if I had. The idea made me chuckle while imagining what it might symbolize if it were a tattoo. But then I dismissed the thought and went on with my day, unaware of the significance this seemingly mundane discovery would hold.

Later that evening, while scrolling absent-mindedly through my phone gallery, the photo of the birthmark popped up again. This time, I really studied it. My stomach churned as I noticed something I’d missed before. The mark wasn’t just symmetrical—it was circular, with five sharp, precise angles radiating from the centre, like some ancient symbol. My pulse quickened as fear crept in. What was this thing? Why was it on my body?

My head started to spin. A wave of nausea overtook me, and before I could make sense of anything, I blacked out.

[VISION] ~ Visioncraft

This is where things got…strange. I couldn’t tell if I was dreaming or awake, but it felt like I was floating, weightless, on a soft, endless cloud. All around me were layers of white and grey, like I had stepped into a painting. The air was thick with awe, and I felt so small, yet oddly at peace. As I marvelled at the surreal beauty of the scene, a bright beam of light broke through the clouds, so radiant I could barely look at it.

Then I felt it—a touch, soft and deliberate. A hand on my shoulder, heavy in weight. A voice followed, clear and resonant, as if it came from everywhere, all at once. “Destiny,” it said, “the power is within you. It is you.”

Before I could respond, everything around me began to shift. Time seemed to accelerate, the world blurring into streaks of light and shadow. I felt like I was being absorbed into something infinite, beyond understanding. Then, as suddenly as it began, it stopped. I gasped for air, my chest heaving as though I had just been yanked back into my body.

With opened eyes, I find myself lying on the floor of my room, heart racing. My sister barged in, staring at me with a smirk of concern and irritation. “What the hell are you doing on the floor?” she asked. “Dad’s been calling for you.”

I blinked, disoriented, still reeling from what had just happened. My mind raced as I tried to piece it all together—how I ended up on the floor, what I’d seen, and what it all meant. But reality snapped back into focus quickly. My father was waiting, and that meant trouble. I pushed myself up, dread filling my chest. Whatever this power was, whatever had just happened, it would have to wait. My father wasn’t exactly known for his patience.

[REALITY] ~ Realitybinding

“Destiny!” The sound of my name jolted me, pulling me back from the echo of the voice I had just heard in my mind. My father’s voice tore through my thoughts like a thunderclap.

“Destiny, what the hell is wrong with you?” he yelled, his tone dripping with rage. Reality hit me hard, and I froze. I could see the fury carved into his face, his body tense and towering over me. Fear slithered into my chest, wrapping itself tightly around my heart.

I couldn’t think or remember. My mind was blank like someone had wiped the data from my memory. I had no idea what triggered my father's anger, and without that understanding, I was unprepared to face him. His voice thundered on, each word cutting into me like a blade.

“What have you done? What the hell were you thinking? How could this happen?”

I couldn’t answer. The words refused to come, and I stood there, trembling, my silence only fuelling my father's rage. He stepped closer, his face inches from mine, and for a terrifying moment, I thought he was going to hit me. My eyes shut instinctively, bracing for the impact.

But instead, I felt his hand clamp down on my shoulder, his grip harsh and unrelenting. He shook me like I was a rag doll, and the blame poured out of him, suffocating me under its weight. My father had always been this way, lashing out to absolve himself of guilt, pinning his failures and frustrations on me because I never fought back.

And then, like a switch flipping in my brain, my mind rebooted. Clarity returned, and I could see the pattern for what it was. This was not about me—not really. It never was. It was my father's way of escaping himself, projecting everything wrong in his life onto me so he wouldn’t have to face it.

I stood there, numb, as his grip tightened and his anger spilt over. My father’s freedom arrived in the form of finding someone else to blame, to carry his burden. Today, that someone was me, just like every other day. All I could do was silently hope it would end. Although bittersweet, my father's only way of finding freedom from his life was a clear exit to his sanity.

[THOUGHTS] ~ Thoughtweaving

Despite the fresh sting of yet another bruise and my body trapped under the crushing grip of my father’s hand, this was the first time I felt like I was somewhere else. My mind wasn’t in that room—it was consumed by thoughts of my birthmark. What was it? What did it mean? Could it be connected to the strange vision I had? The questions swirled, pulling me further away from the pain and the anger in front of me as if my soul was searching for answers far beyond this moment.