Mom was ecstatic when I brought Sterling home for supper, she thinks I haven't had anyone over since Aldens' death, little does she know, Sterling's here quite often. After telling me lowhat happened to him when he was younger, I couldn't bear knowing he's alone in the house that haunts him with execrable memories of his childhood.
"So Sterling," mom said when we began digging into the pot-roast, "you two know each other from school?" She asked.
"Yes," Sterling Answered, "Ms. Calloway." He added for formality.
"Please, call me Aspen," she beamed, "Ms. Calloway makes me sound so old!"
"Aspen," Sterling repeated to himself, "Ashlyn, Axel, Alden, Aspen."
"Their father, Anderson, suggested their names begin with A," mom waved her hand to the side, "we never expected to have three children."
"Isn't he dead?" Sterling asked; Mom nearly spit out the wine she was currently drinking.
"Sterling!" I choked.
"Is that Ashlyn told you?" Mom asked disapprovingly.
"No, Alden said something about him being gone, I just figured." Sterling shrugged.
"You don't just say that to someone!" I scolded.
"You knew Alden?" Mom asked.
"Um," Sterling hesitated, "yeah."
"Ashlyn, I want you to go to the store to get some milk please." She said calmly.
I blinked, "why?"
"Because we're out." She replied.
"Can't you do it?" I asked.
"Ashlyn," She warned, "go get milk."
"Can't Axel do it?"
"He's recovering from surgery."
"Fine, Sterling, your coming for a walk." I huffed.
"No," she stopped him by holding his arm, "I want to speak with him."
I groaned. Judging from moms persistence, she wasn't going to take no for an answer. Because Sterling is here, she won't raise her voice but she will do little things, almost undetectable by company, that will make you know for sure, just how mad she is at you for disobeying her. Sterling shifted in his seat to look at me with pleading eyes.
"Don't leave me." He whispered so she couldn't hear him; I rolled my eyes, following mom to the front door.
"Just milk." She handed me a twenty dollar bill.
*
One thing I have grown to notice, moving from a big city to a small, quiet town, is that lights don't litter the streets, illuminating the road like a second sun, on certain winter days, simply walking down a Greengate City block meant being assaulted by the sharp, metallic scent of the bitter, icy air and exhaust from people trying to heat up their cars; here, I'm met with the sweet aroma of fresh coffee, baked goods and the unmistakable stench of skunk. Every night, I'd fall asleep to the blend of sirens wailing, cars honking and road rage. I never knew anything could be this quiet, so quiet that the loudest sound around me is the occasional whistle of wind passing by my ears.
The air seemed to get colder with every second I'm outside, I held my coat closer to my body and rubbed my arms, focusing on the consistent crunch of snow beneath my boots with each step I take.
I jumped when I heard the loud sound of a metal garbage can clashing onto the cement sidewalk. I spun on all toes at the noise, but before seeing anything, a strong pair of hands pushed roughly into my shoulder. The impact sent me tumbling backwards with a gasp of surprise as I hit the curb. A hiss escaped my throat after meeting the ground with a painful force, my hands were stinging, wet and cold from the snow.
Someone dressed in charcoal black stood in front of me. My mouth was dry, I couldn't scream, couldn't get away, the only thing I could think of was extending my arm towards him, holding out the twenty dollar bill with trembling fingers. He swatted it away, the bill flew out of my hands, it got swept up by the wind, twirling down the road until I couldn't see it anymore.
"Cyrus will have his revenge." He growled as two others did before him. He kept walking forward at a slow pace until he was close enough so that I could smell him. He didn't reek of garbage and sweat like I thought he would, in fact, the man smelled good, as if he showered himself in expensive, almost spicy, cologne.
With all the strength I could possibly muster, I used his legs to kick the brute hard on his shin, the man cursed while stumbling back, giving me only seconds to run.
Without hesitation, I bolted towards the nearest shop, while the man recovered from the kick, I approached the building. The windows were dark and a red closed sign hung from a peg on the door. I didn't need to look behind me, I knew the man had found his bearings and was chasing after me, in fact, he was right on my heels.
The man lunged at my ankles, taking me down once more. I knew it was over, all of my strength, my adrenaline, it all seeped away as I fell, as if the man stole it with a single touch. I felt myself rush towards the ground and with a cracking sound, my head made contact with the wet, cold ground. The impact knocked the air from my lungs and my head spun rapidly as I tried to stay focused on the man. He limped on one of his legs when he walked, I gained little satisfaction knowing I was the cause of his displeasure. He stopped inches away of me, the glow from the street lights illuminated his hand, it became disfigured, morphing into something metallic, shiny and sharp; it transformed into a knife.
I don't want to die, but by the looks of the sinister gleam in his eye, I have no other option. Taking in my fate, I let out a shaky breath before closing my eyes, not wanting to see the man take my life.
It seemed like hours past before the cold wind brushed past my cheek, making me shiver.
Slowly, I peeled my right eye open, shocked to see him frozen in place. There wasn't any ice surrounding him, he was just still; stuck with his knife hand held high.
Someone in red spandex jumped down in front of me, "run." He growled. I followed his instructions without seconds hesitation.
I ran as fast as I could, past various shops that closed way too early, past deserted parks, and past houses with only a few lights on in the windows. I stopped when I decided it was a safe distance away, my legs were numb and felt like jello when I walked, and my mouth tasted like iron.
When I opened the front door to my house, I was still wheezing, unable to catch my breath or register the events of tonight. I made way to the dining room and leaned against the doorframe, Sterling gave me an apologetic look as he clutched his stomach.
"Honey, what's wrong?" Mom asked, noticing my alert eyes and sweaty forehead.
"I-I'm not feeling well, I'm going to lie down." I stuttered before rushing towards my bedroom and collapsing onto bed.
Minutes later, I received a knock on my door, before I could say anything, Sterling waltzed into my room and sat down beside me.
"What happened?" Sterling asked, "if you don't mind me asking of course." I nodded then proceeded with telling him the story, starting with the trash can and ending with the super in red spandex.
"I'm sorry." Sterling mumbled once I was done,
"Is Cyrus is after me?" I asked, ignoring his apology; Sterling sucked in a breath.
"To be completely honest," he hesitated, "It has crossed my mind before, tonight only proves it, but what could you have done for anyone to come after you, especially a mind control super willing to kill?" He asked; I shrugged.
"So if he is..." I trailed off.
"If he is after you, I think, you should never be alone, at least have someone with you at all times, like a bodyguard; at least until you can control your powers properly." He suggested.
"I think that's a bit extreme." I laughed.
"A bit extreme?" Sterling scoffed, "Ash, what happened tonight was 'a bit extreme'; I'm just taking precautions."
"Who would be my bodyguard? You?" I snorted.
Sterling placed a hand to his heart, "offensive!"
"And my mom? I'm sure she'll love having you around all the time."
"She should if it means your safety," he mumbled, "doesn't matter anyway," Sterling scratched the back of his neck, "she knows who I am."
"She knows your Redux?"
"I know! I should be more careful..." He shook his head.
"She's chief of police, give her some credit." I rolled my eyes, "and what if you're busy?" I asked.
"Ah," he waved his hand, "Blinky's fine with babysitting." We fell into silence as I considered his offer; pro's: protection, con's, Sterlings' constant company.
"Only until I can control my abilities?" I asked; he nodded, "and you're sure Gold'll be okay with it?" Sterling raised a brow at my attempt of a nickname for Golden Sparkler, but continued speaking nonetheless.
"I don't care what Blinky wants to do, but I'm sure he'll be okay with it as long as I tell him your life is in serious danger- which it is." Sterling sat back on my bed.
I sighed, "fine." Sterling pumped a fist in the air.
"Stellar."
Tbh, I have no idea who Golds' alter ego is.
I'm reading through the chapters and in many places, all I'm thinking is Ew. Ew. Ew. Why?! What was I thinking?! Okay, I'm not that dramatic but it's still cringeworthy; coming from me anyway.When it's finished, there's going to be some major editing going on.
I'm not a perfect writer guys, just some 14 year old girl with a superhero obsession. 😂
#1- Spiderman
#2- Nightwing
#3- Daredevil
Can anyone relate?