I didn’t believe it was real, but I guess like mom said it’s in the male genes. I cast a circle and said the words at an altar of dark. The room spin in circles and then a weird shadow of smoke flew from candle to candle that I marked the names of my molesters on and as it hit the candles the flame flickered, turned a weird color of green and blue and then went out. I felt a dark feeling each time they went out and realized that they were dying. It was too late to turn back and I got a phone call when I finished closing the circle that my mom said she was sorry and that my father passed away in prison a few moments earlier. A day later, my uncles news spread to me. Then I heard my mom talk about how strange it was my dads group of high school friends all passed away the same day. The little boy that was so innocent and they took advantage of of adolescent curiosities is no more. Each time they put their dirty old man fingers inside of me made me feel just how much more powerful my cast was. Each time I thought about how they got drunk and would pull me in their naked laps while they watched p*** and told the 6 year old me that it was normal for big boys to do stuff like that I felt the power strengthen. Each memory of them and their adult enormous penises being forced into my hand, into my mouth, down my throat while I gagged… It made me feel more powerful. And now that they’re all gone. I don’t want to use this gift anymore.