Heroism

Chapter 2

  I can hear the buzz coming from down the hall. A faint static in the night's silence. It's obviously a call for my parents, and I can hear the latch of their window open.

What I would give for then to stay home, and not interfere. The Lotus will never stop, it's hopeless to try, their base grows everyday.  Anytime someone gets laid off, lands on hard times, or has a family member or themselves get sick they gain another member. 

Where society casts them aside, The Lotus steps in and makes them apart of the family.

Don't get me wrong, I have seen what they can do; horrific murders, theft, kidnapping, and some are even known for torture, but I can't bring myself to label them as villains when our society refuses to take care of them.

An example of how complicated the whole situation is Gerald: a thief, but he uses the stolen goods on the orphans and children in the gang. Their community is so tight-knit that stopping a bulgarly tonight won't stop the one next week, or the week after that. They have hundreds of people to feed, and I emphasize with them. 

I love Gerald because of his passion, the will to do whatever it takes to get the job done for his family.  Maybe he's everything I have lacked in my own family dynamic. My parents are committed to taking care of our community, but it only ever benefits the people who live in the inner city. Their own family was never a priority.

I guess that is why I study Psychology, because I want to understand the motives of the people traditionally called villains.

---

My hair is a tangled mess, but I'm too tired to fuss with it, so I rip the brush through, freeing the interlocked pieces of brown hair.  The ashy brown strands limply stuck to my neck and I sighed.

The sun peaked through the blinds on my window, and the birds sang and bustled along.

My parents had not come home last night. Their empty bedroom, and undisturbed sheets made my heart beat up into neck.  It must have been some fight last night, and that made me worry for Gerald. I scurry down the stairs at the end of the hall.

Victoria is sitting at the dining room table. A sturdy wooden antique passed down generations. The swirled designs embossed on the edges were dated, and several scratches had made their home on the top and base of the table.  It was well used, even today where Victoria sat daintily with a cup of coffee, her laptop sat in front of her.

"Hey icky," I teased. As the older sister by only two years I had to show her who was boss.

She glanced quickly at me, a disgusted snear wrinkling her nose.  Her face was anything but pretty in that moment, her disdain for me clearly showing.

So I shrugged it off, and she went back to being engrossed in her social media.  Her hair was perfectly curled, the honey blonde almost sparkled in the incandescent light.  I'm reminded of my shortcomings every day. My brown hair always seemed to look dirty, much like my father's if he ever let it grow out again.

For a moment I'm puzzled why she was wearing her school uniform, but I look at the digital display on our fridge.

"Shit," I said under my breath and ran back upstairs to grab my bag. On the way back down the hall to my room I still see my parent's empty bed and open window. The wind from outside blowing their beige curtains around.

Once my laptop is in my bag I throw it over my shoulder. Take one last look at my hair in the mirror, quickly decide to throw my hair into a messy bun at the nape of my neck, and head to the front door.

The impact of the door hitting my shoulder took me by surprise, and I jumped back.

Ben charges inside, frantic. His brown hair is disheveled, and his eyes are wide and crazy. My heart jumps a beat, and I lead him to the leather couch against the window.

"You look like you saw a ghost, what's wrong," I ask.

He shakes his head, tears in his eyes. His reaction makes me grimace and I throw down my bag onto the coffee table. My hands come down onto his shoulders and I gently squeeze.

"Hey Bud, you can tell me anything," I urge.

"Dad's missing, they were ambushed last night by The Lotus, and Mom hasn't been able to find him," he wipes a tear from his eye.

I'm speechless, and guilty.

"Go upstairs and lay down for a while," I tell him, and I run out the door.

----

The streets pass in a blur, I'm searching for Gerald, but he could be anywhere on the Manufacturing district.

I check our favorite restaurants, I retrace my steps from last night, but there is no sight of him.

That's when I see my mother. She has on her costume, but even under a black mask I can see the rage. A thin man's neck is under her grip, and his face is turning purple. He has a leather jacket, and the mark of the lotus on his neck.

I step into a nearby alleyway and hide behind a large mail box.

It's too bad I don't have super hearing, because I cant hear a word she is saying, the only thing I hear is incoherent screams.  She's yelling spit onto his face, but he doesnt seem to budge so she effortlessly throws him aside, and he flies 10 feet right into oncoming traffic.

The next thing I know I'm on my feet dragging him out of the road as a triple wide semi-truck comes speeding down the road. It misses us by only a few feet and I sigh, relieved.

I look behind for my mom, but she's already gone. No trace of her red leotard or black mask in sight.