As the night inched closer, my homework was complete and the urge to get out of the HQ was building more and more by the second.
Before I left, I checked my Facebook. Naturally, I did a quick sweep of Ben Carson's timeline.
Yes, being a superhuman didn't mean I wasn't a teenager. I got crushes.
It was 10:30pm and the sky was a shiny jet black. Pulling on my familiar, dark red leather jacket, I zipped it up and took my hair out of it's ponytail, which would be mistaken for a darker colour due to the matching hood that I tugged over it. I pulled on my leather pants and my thick, dark boots.
I slid my small yet deceptively sharp knives into my belt, which I didn't intend to use but were a necessary precaution nevertheless.
Before I left the HQ and slid into the night, I realised I was missing one vital necessity of my disguise and mentally swore to myself for almost leaving without it... again.
I paced back to my desk where my mask sat in a tall, crystalline container. The vibrant burgundy material sat perfectly on the bridge of my nose and cupped my cheekbones in a way that curved my face into something unrecognizable.
That was the last puzzle piece that completed the whole look, the whole facade. Moving into the night, I had fully become the identity that I had learnt to work.
Red Hawk.
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You may be wondering what happened to my parents.
Well, my mother was presumably passed out on the couch (again) after another indifferent day of whiskey hugging. I knew she cared about me, and the feeling was definitely mutual, but apparently not enough to inspire a change of lifestyle.
But there was a part of me that knew not to blame her. My father had been sent to prison, consequently from tax fraud, that lead to the hot mess that was my home situation. I knew that, if I were in her shoes, I would see the vodka and the tequila as an easy ticket out. Perhaps, if I didn't have the powers I did, our situation wouldn't be too different. Perhaps I would have joined her in her misery.
Though it was easy to blame my lifestyle choices on apparent daddy issues, I didn't let it drive me down the wrong path. I was still confused on what side I wanted to be on. I didn't owe anyone my time and good intentions, except those close to me. No one deserved me making their lives hell either... unless they deserved it.
Which was exactly my plan for the evening.
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I didn't fail to have some fun on the way to Justin's house. I was already pretty good at jumping from building to building, my parkour skills were not too shabby either.
It wasn't long before I was crouching a few inches away from Justin's window on the rooftop of the building opposite his. The set of apartments were fancy as hell, meaning his family was swimming in money. Any other day, his wealth would have given me enough reason to pay him a visit, but not tonight.
Call me creepy, but looking in through his open curtains, I could see he was perched on a large cushion in his room wearing a set of Cars pyjamas and playing Call of Duty. I smirked to myself and leaped from the ledge onto his window sill as swiftly as possible.
While he was remained intoxicated by the vibrant flashing of lights and the ear-shattering gun shots, I slid the window open and tucked my hand underneath.
This was where the real fun began.
First, I focused on the light that hung down from the ceiling and made it sway wildly from side to side. Closing the window carefully, I saw Justin yank off his headset and whip his head around. I tried to sustain my laugh and waited for him to get back to his game.
As soon as he was, once again, immersed in the game, I made the chair by his desk topple over and the door to his room slam freakishly loud. While he panicked and called out for his parents, I managed to get a piece of paper and a pen to slide under the gap in the window.
In large, scrawny capitals, I began writing the note.
The next time you use your fists, will be the last time you'll have them. - Red Hawk
I signed it off, smiled at what I had come up with so quickly and then navigated it around his room until it landed beside his feet.
He picked it up with feared hesitance and flipped it open. The look on his face was worth the journey and effort.
He whipped his head around, searching frantically for the source of the letter. I made sure by this point that I was out of sight and it wasn't long before I had landed softly on the ground, walking through the dark alleys near the city square.
I switched back into Rose O'Connolly's traditional look of a red hoodie, light jeans and off-white, battered converse. Not to mention the beanie, I could never forget the beanie.
Strolling past the city square, I eyed the enormous, majestic screen that displayed the news and, occasionally, funny cat videos. Don't ask me why.
Instead of the usual, stern presenter giving a presentation on the weather, there were the words 'BREAKING NEWS' in fearful capitals. I stopped walking for a second, tuning in to what was being reported, mainly wanting to know if it was anything I could get my butt involved in.
"Earlier today there was an attack on the White House by, what seems to be, a human torch." The presenter announced with a truthful, shocked tone in her voice.
I walked closer to the screen, already a mass group of people watching or gaping over it with their friends.
At first, I thought it was another crazed mental hospital escapee that had set them self on fire and was now on an angry rampage around the city. But, as the footage showed, the man -or women- was flying.
They soared above the White House before throwing, what looked like, fireballs at the building.
"Witnesses have identified the male as being in the stages of early adulthood, but the boy was too far away for anyone to make out any key features of his face."
I stared in shock at the TV screen.
Could it be...? No. I was the only one, right? Anyway, he had completely different powers. Well, if they were powers.
The presenters serious expression solidified the fact that this was no joke, no prank that had turned out a little extreme. The looped video footage still seemed to kick the wind out of me.
I continued arguing in my head as the people around me started to diffuse and place their attention elsewhere. The presenter announced that the man was still out on the loose after he had set a small section of the White House alight.
If there was one thing I was certain fact at that point was that there was no way I was going to sweep this under the mat. If, by some minuscule chance, I was not alone, then there would be someone I could share my knowledge with. Maybe I could even find out how I got my powers.
The news flicked from the video footage to the fear-stricken face of, what I assumed, was a witness. I tuned out again and started walking towards my favourite Chinese take-out.
After treating myself to a simple, mouth-watering meal of egg fried rice, I started heading home, eating my dinner on the way. My Red Hawk gear was in my back pack and I continued to walk through the square while the adverts on the buildings illuminated the entire space around me.
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It wasn't long before I was back at home, wishing my mother a good night's sleep as I took the empty beer bottle out of her hand. I covered her body in a warm duvet that I had brought down from my room and made my way back to the HQ.
After the late hours whizzed by, I heard a scratching at the door. On instinct, I whipped my head round with my knife already hovering over my hand. I didn't know why I did this every time I heard an out-of-place sound in the HQ, but it was better than being unprepared. After adjusting to the sound, I sighed, knowing who it was.
"Ms O'Connolly, Winchester is outside the door."
Yes, yes, Winchester. As in from Supernatural. I got so obsessed with the series that I named my dog after the demon-fighting brothers. I didn't regret it one bit.
Opening the door, my German Shepherd pounced onto me, licking my face and clawing at my jacket with his majestic paws. Just because he was young and hadn't been in the family for long, didn't mean that him and I hadn't bonded. I guess you could count Winchester as knowing my secret too. I mean, if someone blackmailed me with him, I would definitely have to give in.
I brushed my teeth and put on my Superman pajamas, my eye lids feeling heavier and heavier by the minute. As soon as I could, I threw myself onto the HQ bed, digging my head into the blanketed marshmallows with Winchester at my knees.
It wasn't long before both of us were fast asleep.
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Thank you for reading Chapter 2! What do you guys think of Winchester? 😍😍
What about Rose as a whole?
Anyway, don't forget to fill in that little, empty star in the corner and drop a comment!
Until next time!
~SkyHunterXoX