Dream high, float higher

The puzzled doctor had a problem the moment Juliet Nashiniha entered the world. While originally in shock at his sudden telekinesis abilities, it made much more sense later on to realise that it wasn't him, but her. The floating infant. The infant who was pressed against the ceiling, cheek squished against the air conditioner that the nurse realised hadn't been dusted in months. While she's seen a fair number of interesting births, she wasn't sure how she was going to explain this one to the mother, who has collapsed from exhaustion immediately after her success. The doctor glanced down after staring at the ceiling for a long while, making eye contact with the nurse. They realised simultaneously that first of all, they'd have to get the newborn down. 

Now, while the doctor couldn't remember the last time he's seen this tall a ladder in the delivery room, he didn't have much time to wonder. It had taken them so long - over an hour - to come up with the idea and execute it, that the baby had already fallen asleep, dried blood, naked, peaceful and still, floating as though an extraterrestrial creature was trying to pull her up and into their space ship. The second the nurses finally had their gloved hands on the small girl, they nodded at each other, determined to not give her another chance to escape. One hour and forty two minutes old, young Julie had weighed only five pounds. 

At a second glance, a nurse noticed, that despite the heat of the incubator, and the thick blanket that was weighted on all four corners (it was the only way to keep her held down), little Juliet was badly shivering. 

Single mother Natalia Nashiniha was quick to adapt to her very special child. A bad day at work becomes nothing significant when you have a floating toddler to greet you. Julie never went anywhere without being wrapped in a snug blanket, and at six years old, the petite child had made the connection that it wasn't usual to be able to float endlessly. Once Natalie invested in metal weighted shoes, she did manage to teach her daughter how to walk. But for Julie, realising her "newfound" power had given her far too many michievous ideas, the kind that'd leave her mother both concerned and amused, worried yet tender, loving but annoyed.

"One of these days you're going to end up on the moon. Who knows how i'll find you then?" was something she'd say quite often, her furrowed brows relaxing once she realised Julie had merely squeezed herself into the space between the ceiling and the top of the refrigerator once again. While meant as a joke, the remark had stuck with Julie, and she found herself often wondering if she could indeed float to the moon one day. NASA, to a nine year old, was nothing more than the top of the beanstalk. 

It was unfortunate that her grades ended up sub-par. Passing, sure, but never exemplary. It didn't help that middle school wasn't the most conducive place in the world for middle schooler Julie. She had been forced to be exempted from both sports and gym, her weighted shoes doing her a disservice in competitions. Once, she had tried to do gym with friction socks, the kind you get at trampoline parks (not that she would know, seeming as gravity never managed to bring her back down). Despite her best efforts to stay grounded, curling her toes and pressing hard against the gymnasium floor, she had floated, and was lucky to have held onto a wide beam that her classmates would get to leap off of, keeping her at reach. Only ever getting to sit at the side lines, it made her talent seem more like a curse, and she ended up doubting herself more than anything. 

By the time Julie was in her final year of high school, she had made peace with it. Space was out of the option. Her mother did her best to teach her all the impressive things she could do that no one else possible could've, such as reaching the highest shelf, and dressing up as a real ghost for Halloween. She contemplated being a professional ghost once, the ones that work in spooky haunted mansions, but it really didn't spark much joy to think about. 

She spent a long time merely contemplating, and experimenting with her condition, far more than she did studying. Her first theatre class had the instructor asking them to "walk in the space" and "walk in speed three", but with her weighted boots, and the far too chilly black box theatre space, she didn't have much reason to continue. Aerial yoga had seemed promising, but the stretch and exercise relied on gravity, and it felt like she was cheating anyway, her flexibility hiding behind the guise of merely anti-gravity. She also tried her hand at just painting, which seemed like it should have worked, but like the lack of handheld palettes for lefties, there weren't any easels tall enough for her, and she couldn't stay seated long enough to actually mix paint, clean her brush, or actually paint on the canvas, before finding herself pressed to the ceiling once more. Her frustration was the main reason she quit on that one.

Now nineteen, Juliet's taking a gap year or two before continuing on her journey. Having just recently graduated, she took on a job as a pre-school teacher. While it can be quite inconvenient, and she finds herself grimacing when a child asks to lower the temperature further, the children are amused at their floating teacher, and are also quite happy to pull her down with her ribbon when they need her help. It's not what she wants to spend her whole life doing, but she can't complain too much either. She's still figuring it all out though, but she's excited to do so. 

Maybe rock climbing will be fun, she beams, thinking about all the ways she has an advantage. She looks down at her comfy clothes, doing it's best to shield her from the cold that only she can feel.

"Damn. I'm not sure how the helmet and harness will fit over these though..."