I'm not what you'd call ordinary. Sure, we're all unique right, with different attributes, strengths, weaknesses, and all that. But I really am not ordinary, although your first impression of me may qualify me as so. I have light brown hair, eyes so dark that sometimes people describe them as purple, and pretty tan skin. Since I was little, I knew I was different from other kids. I stayed to myself, afraid that they would find out and the government would lock me away.
I see things, things people try to keep locked away in their heads, secrets that they wish to keep that way. Great, you might say, telepathic ability is useful as long as you can't see my secrets. But that isn't all I can do. I can, well, make people do things. Things that they hadn't intended on doing. Like when I was seven, my uncle tried to touch me between my legs. I didn't like it, so I made him punch himself in the face. It scared the heck out of him, but he never touched me again.
It was pretty simple when I was young. I was pretty smart for my age, so I never cheated on tests or anything like that, but God help any bully who tried picking on me. I tried my best to use it only to protect myself or the rare friend. But once I hit puberty, things became more complicated. I started thinking about sex, and looked up everything on sex that I could find. I wanted to know everything I could about it. Then I realized that if I wanted specifics, all I had to do is look into the heads of grown-ups to find out. And I did find out, all kinds of nasty things, except that most of them weren't all that nasty. I lost my virginity the hard way, with a lot of trying and getting rejected, but with no mind-messing.
When I went to college at twenty-three and found myself surrounded by hot women, it took all my self-control not to try and screw every single one of them. Instead, I tried to focus on classes and grades. My will-power soon wore down, however, and I started trying to go out with this hot blonde in my Spanish class. I just loved watching her walk, her round little ass swaying in her tight white shorts. She rebuffed every attempt I made to ask her out, using such ageless excuses as, "You're not my type," or, "I need to concentrate on my grades."