Chapter 8
Cyclone; February 19th, 8:21 P.M.275Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBJEqT2NoRA
275Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJPjUwModne
275Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ08JATPhLxY
“You want to appoint the criminal as a partner?” Luca sputters at me after what feels like ages of deafening silence; This meeting has been going on forever. I cast him a begrudging glare in response. “Not to agree with Luca,” Mia starts, which rewards her with an eye roll, “But why her?”
A fair question. I don’t even think I have a real answer. Everyone at the table is staring daggers into my face. “Can you think of anyone else?” Is all I manage to come up with. “Well, no,” She responds, “But I could have found someone else.” I stare at the window that overlooks the city. “What would you have done? Picked someone off the street?” I ask, turning to look back at her, arching an eyebrow.
Luca speaks up. “Anyone would be better than a criminal.” I hate that he keeps referring to her as a criminal. “Really?” I ask him sarcastically, side-eying him. I feel like a mom, so I make a note to kill myself later. “Really.” He responds, gravely serious. I give up and turn back to Mia. “The thing is,” I start, “I know her. I know she can fight, and I know I’d work better with her than some random guy off of the street.”
Luca crosses his arms. “But do you know her loyalty? Do you know she’ll actually help us? She could tear this place apart.” Sorry, since when was I talking to him? Regardless, I consider this for a second. Then it hits me: “You’re right; she is a criminal. That’s exactly how we can ensure she’s loyal. If we catch her, we can use her freedom as an incentive. She won't have a chance to be dishonest if she’s risking losing the rest of her life.”
This finally shuts Luca up. Mia darts her eyes between the two of us, and it becomes increasingly apparent that everyone else at the table wants to know what's going to happen.
“Fine.” Is all Mia manages to respond with. She gives no further indication of any concrete decision. Everyone stares at each other for a long moment. She moves on to the next topic with a strange ease, and immediately motions all of us out of the board room when she’s done. When I try to get up to leave, she tells me to sit back down. I do. Once everyone leaves, she sits down and places her chin between her hands, fingers interlocked and elbows on the table.
Why do I get the feeling I'm being lectured? Before she can speak, I interrupt her. “Before you say anything,” I start, not really sure where I'm going. After a long moment of silence, I admit it: “...Yeah, I don’t have anything. Have at me.” She looks at me, confused. “‘Have at me?’” she repeats, “Didn’t I just approve the idea?”
That is definitely not what I felt like she did. I do, however, feel as if a big weight has been lifted off my chest, though I can’t quite pinpoint a reason why. “No,” I start, rubbing my temples, “You said ‘fine’.”
She rolls her eyes and waves her hand dismissively. “That’s pretty much the same thing.”
“It’s ‘pretty much’ not; I-” I begin, just before she cuts me off, finger-coiling one of her hair strands. “I could always reconsider,” She says halfheartedly. Fuck. “Y’know what?” I ask, “on second thought–”
“Why do you care?” God, she’s got to let me speak at some point, right? “And don’t say it’s ‘for the good of the world’, because we all know that’s bull.” She continues. 275Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgzE9jwkNYo
“It just makes sense,” I say.
275Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsLzQKVnRqk
“Elaborate.” She responds, sitting straight up, her eyes narrowing; knowing.
Elaborate? No. “It just does?” I say, guilty. God, who let that excuse out? I’d like to have a meeting with the executive board in my brain, please. Wait, why do I feel guilty? This is stupid.
Mia shows a sliver of a smile before nodding and moving on, as if she was confirming something. “Right, well, all you need to do now is figure out how to catch her, ”
Easy; I’ve got this in the bag. “Even if you have to take the ring off.” I think I stop breathing for a second. It’s been a while since anyone’s acknowledged my ring; everyone knows not to go there. Everyone except Mia, apparently. For a while, I just stare at her, wide-eyed, focused only on the ringing in my ears and the steady movement of my chest.
The ring restricts my powers. I was born with a power unlike anything anyone had ever seen: The ability to control human perception; Psychokinesis. The ability itself didn’t seem like anything extraordinary, until I did things I shouldn’t have been able to; things that were beyond my ability description. Or so they thought. I controlled the weather, teleported, changed my appearance, and seemed to be able to do anything I put my mind to. And when I did these things, they were permanent. The conceding of the entire of Polxie acknowledging that yes, I had in-fact collapsed their highway, destroyed any thought of it just being in their head. Now, I think it may have just been a joint hallucination– something I made everyone believe. Maybe that makes it real. For the first six years of my life, anyway, I was held in captivity. My parents did nothing. They tried to normalize me; figure out what was wrong with me.
The more I grew, the less I knew myself. I could change anything at my will; make anyone believe things that aren't true. Every day, I was a new person, and I looked at it too. Every minute, I spoke a new language. Every second, I was a different species. I knew every answer that had ever been known, everything that had ever been spoken, and It all was subjectable to change– all I had to do was think. I was above insecurity, above humanity, above insanity & sanity combined, because even madness wore away with time. The doctors never told me anything.
I slept in an all-white room with a small window and a bed. Every morning, I got up and ate the same meal, undergoing the same check-ups. For every day of those 6 years, the verdict came back the same: I was normal. After what seemed like forever, they gave up, and simply created something that would hold me back. A restriction device. When they slid the ring on my finger, everything seemed to go silent. The world was spinning like normal, and I finally felt like a person again. It limited me to only one form– which is what I am now. I’ll never know what I would have looked like if I was normal. My ability was finally less than it was, but it was now unclassified; I was now able to do anything in moderation, which I guess is better to some extent. My parents decided I was too much work to be their kid, and put me up for adoption while I was undergoing examinations for all those years.
For the next three years, I grew up in the orphanage reading about heroes; how they do good with weird abilities– how they made something strange acceptable. On my 10th birthday, I got a letter asking me if I wanted to be recruited as a Heroes Association trainee. Now, I wish I’d have been something different, but once you’re on billboards, there's really no going back.
For all these years, I’ve been wrapping my mind around the thought of taking the ring off, just thinking about what might happen. Has my ability gotten worse now that I’m older? Why am I like this?
In a single moment, I snap myself back to reality, staring back at Mia gravely. It’s okay; I won’t even need to take it off. “Okay.”
275Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpljZtymahH
and then Add to home screen.