Lost In Your Light || P. Parker

01| Left in the Snow

The bright lights of Queens illuminated the water, flashing across her gaze and providing her tranquility like no other. Normally, the city would be buzzing with excitement, but at this time of night, all Lelia could hear were the waves crashing against the shore.

Her legs were hanging over the dock, feet swaying back and fourth as she mapped out which block to walk down. It was 2am, and she was shivering.

The nighttime breeze that licked the waves was sending chills down her spine. But it didn't bother her, for she did this almost every night. In the exact same place, at the exact same time, where no one would be looking for her.

But doing what she did resulted in her renouncing sleep and comfort, requiring her to sacrifice the little things to ensure the safety of others. She knew she was destined to do this, even if it went unrecognized. 

Like clockwork, her telepathy kicked in and she circled multiple streets that had gone unpatrolled for weeks. An indescribable feeling rushed through her and she rose to her feet. It was time. Something was calling for her, for help. 

Lelia pulled the scarf tighter around her neck and exhaled, tucking her phone inside her pocket and begging to jog. Her fingers tingled with warmth, guiding her on instinct alone. The helplessness drifted through the air so strongly her senses came alive. 

She darted through the park and across the deserted street. Not even the police were patrolling at this hour. It was nervewracking to be alone and unmonitored, a young girl like her. She was only able to escape because her farther was a surgeon and worked late into the night.

One block. Two blocks. She ran faster down the street, her steps light, hardly audible. But when she heard the first whimper echo down the alley, her sneaker scuffed against the pavement. She turned, her hands growing clammy, searing with warmth. Lelia turned sharply down the street, following the source of the sound, melting into the shadows to remain hidden. 

She scaled the brick wall, taking a deep breath before peaking around the corner to watch the situation unfold.

The sounds she heard were heartbreaking. With each kick, she could feel the pit bull's life force fading into the abyss. The man only mere feet from her kicked the animal relentlessly, a wicked grin stretching across his face, enjoying the torment.

Taking in every inch of her surroundings, Lelia's stomach wrenched when she noticed the infamous rose tattoo engraved on his forearm.

The Thorns were the city's leading gang in human sex trafficking and dog fighting. Queens was sadly known for the underground productions, as it always had been. In a society aware of aliens and superheroes, once frowned upon activities slide under the radar to government organizations. For locals like her, she now had to be cautious of both.

Each gang member had a rose and thorns tattooed vividly for the public to see. And most of them watched dog fights for fun, not giving a damn what happened to the animals afterward. She was the one who picked their bludgeoned bodies off the street. 

Lelia knew exactly how they did their business, in a backend "spa" just a few blocks down. Everyone in the city knew it, even the police. But for some reasons unfathomable to her, they turned a blind eye, which allowed for the actions this man was committing to unfold.

The girl was infuriated. The man was holding a beer bottle, pausing every few seconds to take a swig.

"Useless." He muttered before tipping the bottom up and finishing it off. "You made me lose hundreds--"

In the blink of an eye, his foot slammed against the dog's chest. Lelia barely had a moment to process what was happening.

The animal fell back with a cry, and this time it stayed down.