Anna wasn't all too aware of someone speaking to her. The voice reached her ears, but that was all. There was no comprehension of someone touching her, or stroking her hair.The only thing that remained her her mind at that moment was the horrible memories that flashed before her eyes, making her scream louder. She just wanted those horrible feeling to go away. She didn't want to feel like a monster. Did killing all those people....killing her mother...did that make her a monster? Maybe her mother had been right. Maybe she was a witch who needed to burn in hell. She sobbed in between her screams, and as she knelled there on her bed, her face buried against the pillow, to muffle her own frightened sounds, she heard the sweetest and softest voice whispered in her ear, and this time, the voice reached her through her meltdown. Everything in the air suddenly froze in place, just hovering there for a moment, before it all dropped to the floor in loud thuds and smashes, the mattress falling to the floor with both of them still on it.

Anna slowly sat up on the mattress, eyes wide and tear filled as she looked to see none other than Vincent sitting beside her. Different emotions swept through Anna and that was present on her face. Sadness, regret, anger, happiness. With a trembling hand, she reached out, brushing some of his dark hair from his face as she had down so many times before, only this time she didn't do it teasingly. She did it as if to really see if he was real. The hand that brushed his hair away, moved slowly to let her fingertips run across his cheek and she found he was solid. He was here, and he was in front of her. Alive. 

She in that instant threw her arms around him, hugging herself tightly to him, her hands clinging at the fabric of his shirt, as if she were afraid he was disappear if she didn't do so. Sobs mixed with a relieved laughter racked through her body, "I....It is you....Vincent....you're alive...." She pulled back to look at him and it was then that she noticed something....odd about him. His shirt and pants, both once two tones of red, were now shimmering and changing colors. She looked at him, shocked and confused, trying to piece together what exactly was going on. He couldn't do that before. So why was it now that was going on? And more so, how had he been able to get up onto the bed with her when it had been so high up? The nonathletic Vincent she knew wouldn't even be able to grip the mattress's edge if he jumped. What had happened at that prom that had caused this change within him?

With her mind swirling of possibilities, things in the room began to levitate again and the colors of his clothes changed once again as if in sync with the changing of her emotions. As the things around the room began moving about quickly and the mattress lifted up from the floor again., She couldn't concentrate on just one certain item. They all moved about in speratic ways, some things even smashing against the walls. Thats when a lamp brushed passed her, barely missing her on head and going to hit Vincent in the head. A small squeak of fright escape her and jolted forward, as if ready to push him out of the way of the object, but she was too slow. The lamp hit him and....went right through him. She froze, lowering herself to sit back down and the objects around thing, still floating, at least slowed down, gliding harmlessly threw the air.

She looked up at him, confused and frightened, thought he fear was not of him. It was of what she could have done to him. Obviously, whatever had happened to him had to do with her powers, likely her outburst in the gym at prom. She sat there on the floating mattress trembling, curling up there with her knees curled to her chest, eyes wide with the fear of herself, her hands nervously scratching at the skin of her arms, drawing blood in the process. She was hyperventilating slightly, speaking quietly in barely a whisper in between her gasps of breath, "i did this....I killed them...killed my mother....I shed their blood so easily....and now....now.....I did this to you...mother was right....I deserve to go to hell....I should have let her kill me...I am a monster..." She whispered in sudden realization that this powers were no gift as she thought they were. Thy were a curse. If they had caused all this, then she didn't want them. The hand that scratched at her skin now scratched harder, smearing blood over her arm, she herself unaware she was even doing this.