Louder Than Words

Chapter 3

The others went as followed:

Jaz, who had promptly shut the door in our faces after sharing a few awkward, simpering (on my end, at least) niceties, was gifted in the art of brooding. She was a petit, dark-skinned, messy-haired fourteen-year-old who lived isolated, down in the dark basement of the Shack behind a heavy metal door and thick walls. Lucas had later on assured me that she was just as distant from the remainder of the tiny house's occupants, usually only leaving her room when food became necessary or to exchange reading material.

He had also informed me that she was gifted in psychological intuition. This extended to understanding, and manipulating (which is only mildly concerning) the behaviors of others. Conveniently, this also included fear inducement and, get this, memory manipulation- which swiftly explained that.

We met Jonathan next, which might have been one of the most pleasant experiences thus far in my life, only seconded to discovering chocolate and, admittedly, the thrill of kissing Lucas. The tan eight-year-old boy with three visibly missing teeth from his broad smile had a vibrant, extroverted personality which thoroughly compensated for Jaz's reclusiveness.

He had adorned the room, which I was informed, sat right besides Michael's ("So you know where you should avoid," Lucas had stage whispered mere moments before the older boy had promptly shut him up with one swift whack to the back of the head). My first interaction with the young boy was him sidestepping me completely to run straight into the eldest boy's arms. Michael, in turn, had accepted the enthusiasm with a small, adoring grin and had lifted him up in the air, to the other's delight.

Instead of introducing himself, Jonathan had changed his entire physical composition until he was a perfect replica of myself. I noticed that, yes, there was something unnerving about my golden eyes, now filled with what looked to be childish glee, that made me feel momentarily queasy. He had offered his (my?) skinny hand to shake and had skipped back to his, admittedly bland, room. It was an all-around unique experience. I tried desperately not to let my disturbance show, but Michael's knowing smile lead me to believe it didn't exactly work.

Lucas, who was now gaining the reputation of a gossip, had explained that Jonathan Fuller was abandoned by his mother at the ripe age of four. Michael had found him when making his way home one day from school and the rest was history.

I decided not to think of the implications behind Michael having raised a toddler at the age of fourteen. Barriers and all, or so I've been told.

We proceeded down the hall. Michael and Lucas paused in front of one of the wooden doors. Lucas' face had adopted an expression clearly articulated his disdain for the scene about to take place, and Michael looked to be mentally preparing himself.

Before knocking, I was given a crash course in the room's occupant. I learned the girl was the same age as Lucas, and thus one year younger than myself, and had enhanced human strength and agility. In other words, she was a female Batman. I had also learned that Michael had found her on the streets, where she had been allegedly trying to mug him, having recently been abandoned by her older brother. Low and behold, after discovering her unnerving ability to take him down in mere moments, he had taken her in. Since that was just a thing Michael did, apparently. Lucas had deemed it, "The Bruce Wayne Complex". (Which makes for two Batman references in a single paragraph. I am gifted, truly.)

When the door had swung opened, with unnecessary force for such a light weight, I was almost surprised to see a normal teenaged girl rather than the ferocious beast the pair of brothers had made her out to be. Although, the biting tone in her next words almost made me rethink this observation.

"Usually, when people come home from a trip, they bring back a souvenir or, I don't know, dinner? Not a whole ass girl." She eyed me warily, her mouth twisting in obvious distaste.