[ WP ] Every person in the world develops a weird mutation/power the day they turn 16 . Everyone 's powers are always different , some more insignificant than others . You turn 16 , and watch as all your friends discover their newfound ability 's . That is , until you discover the severity of your own .

The funeral was the saddest day of my life. I watched as Cameron's mother and father wept over a closed casket. No parent should ever have to bury their child. That is an agony I would n't wish on my worst enemy. They tried their best to avoid giving me terrible looks between the tears, but who could blame them? I had just killed their son. 
 
 Days in the summer had become pretty routine. Wake up, eat breakfast, long run, jump in the pool, and then the fun part, go with a few friends to the sparring gym. Mixed martial arts had become the new craze amongst teenagers since medical technology had now made injuries basically nonexistent. I trained 6 days a week and ate clean. Training was my life. Not many of my friends took our new hobby as seriously as I did. Except Cameron. 
 
 I was the last of my friends to turn, which meant I was the last to gain my power. Some of my friend's powers were utterly useless, like Trevor for example, who was blessed with the power to chug anything as fast as it would pour. Cool party trick, but absolutely useless. When I was born, the doctors noticed the birthmarks on my hands. Little rough patches by my knuckles that almost looked like welds. The doctors had warned my parents that my ability would be powerful. Extremely powerful. 
 
 The night before my sixteenth birthday happened to coincide with The Tournament. They refused to give it a name other than The Tournament. Martial Arts people are a strange breed I suppose. The prelim fights had taken longer than expected. I was getting anxious because I was so excited to see what my power would be, but at the same time I was so focused on winning that I forgot all about it. The rounds were fought, the fighters downed, and the bracket solidified. I breezed through to the finals, where I would fight none other than my best friend, Cameron. And that's where it all went wrong. 
 
 I looked at the clock. 11:54. I guess finding out my power would have to wait. I had a Tournament to win. Round one. We touched gloves, signifying the start of the match, and then hugged signifying our friendship. It was a boring round. Cameron took me down and worked from the top, which was fine by me because I fought better from my back. A few blows were exchanged, but mostly just grappling. 11:57. Round one over. 11:59. Round two. Halfway through the round Cameron landed a huge head kick. Midnight. Things got fuzzy for a second, and then all of the sudden clear as day. Everything. Everything was vivid, and everything was in my control. Time itself knelt before me. In slow-motion I watched Cameron swing for my temple. I slipped his punch. Now he's exposed. I strike. Jab to the stomach with the right ( I fought southpaw ), uppercut with as much force as I could put behind it with the left. 
 
 Normally we do n't have to worry about injuring our friends. They hop in the med-tank for 30 seconds. Good as new. This time was different. He was gone instantly. The jab collapsed every rib it touched, and his face I ca n't even talk about. 
 
 In court it was ruled an accident for two reasons. One, we were sparring. Sparring had become commonplace, and everyone signs off on the dangers when they sign up. Two, well, how was I supposed to know my power? I only had it for maybe fifteen seconds before the head-kick triggered it. Diamond sharp thoughts, steel hard fists. 
 
 Taking a life changes a man. Whether accidental or purposeful, it does not matter. It's near impossible to live knowing you ended someone, let alone a friend. I gained a power that day, but I lost my life.
