Hi.
You guys know what to do by now right? Tell me if you want more. I'll post a few more chapters until we're at the actual plot, but I still need to know if I should continue it or unpublish it.
NPOV
Track: Family Line, Conan Gray
I haven't always been this way. The string of fate twists and turns and never heads straight—and occasionally, the string snaps entirely, leaving you stumbling through the world alone.
By 'this way,' I mean a lot of things. I have a hard time seeing the bright side of things; I toss and turn when I'm trying to sleep; I haven't tried making friends in years; I spend more time under stars than I do under the sun; I may or may not be close to failing nearly all of my classes in high school.
Oh, yeah. And I'm a wanted man. Or so the police say.
I started out as a normal kid just like anyone else. I wasn't incredibly extroverted—but that's somewhat normal for children. Yes, I would hide behind my mother's leg when there were new people around, but I also had friends at school. I played outside in the bright green grass, watched Batman, and dreamed of one day becoming a superhero.
I mean, the smaller you are, the greater the world, right?
"You're going to grow up to be a good man one day, Niccolò," Bianca, my older sister, used to tell me.
Ironically, the day that my fate string twisted from a life of heroics to a life of crime, my sister told me those same words. Maybe the string of fate has a sense of humor. I think it might be doing this to spite me. If I ever get to have a face-to-face conversation with Fate, I am going to beat the shit out of that guy.
The last time my sister told me I would grow up to be a good person—that was the day that life fucked me over.
I would like to start this with an it-was-a-dark-and-stormy-night aesthetic, but the truth is that it was a beautiful day. The sun shone so brightly and hotly in the sky that I was sweating as I skipped down the city streets, one hand in Bianca's and my eyes on the sky...
--
Bianca has been begging my mother for weeks to let her take me and Hazel, my younger sister, downtown to shop. My mother's birthday was coming up in a week; usually, we had to make gifts for my mother by hand. Our dad isn't really in the picture, so if we want to go buy a gift, our mother was the only one who could take us. You can imagine why that might not be ideal for shopping for her birthday gift.
The cement of the city reflects the heat everywhere, and it feels like walking in a desert. I don't mind except that I would like to get a drink of water the next time we get the opportunity. Mom did tell me to bring a water bottle, but I forgot it at home. I'm sure Bianca will buy me a drink somewhere.
Bianca and Hazel are my favorite people in the entire world—and I'm pretty sure that's never going to change. I'll spend the rest of my life skipping next to them, and that will be a good life.
"Niccolò," Bianca scolds, "you need to be careful! You're going to hurt yourself."
Except I'm pretty sure she's not really angry. I've been skipping everywhere for the past week or so—my friend Luke at school is in a competition with me to see who can skip everywhere we go for longer. I'm competitive and determined to win, but I've scraped my knees from tripping over myself about three times this week, so my mother has been trying to convince me to stop. I guess that's starting to rub off on Bianca.
"You can't be a superhero if you scrape your knees too badly to save people," she tries.
I shrug her off. I'll just be a superhero that saves people even if I have scraped knees. Batman gets hit sometimes, and he keeps fighting. It's what makes him so cool.
"I'll just be invincible like Batman," I tell her. Honestly, she should have thought of this herself. Sometimes I think you get stupider the older you are. I won't be like that—when I'm older, I'm going to be the same.
The corners of her lips quirk up. "You're going to be a good man someday, Niccolò—but today, if I bring you back home bleeding, Mom is going to kill me, so I need you to stop skipping everywhere."
"Superheroes don't give up," I argue, "and I can't give up because one day, I'm going to save the world. You're trying to get me to be a quitter, but I won't."
She sighs. We pass one of my favorite skyscrapers—it's tall and shiny and the top has a little purple light. I point at the light like I always do, but before I can say anything, something catches my eyes in the reflective glass plates that make up the tower's walls.
There's a cool car behind us—it kind of reminds me of the Batmobile. It's low to the ground, and the black paint gleams in the sun. It's going pretty slow, and another car honks at it.
"I think there might be criminals nearby," I tell Bianca, and she mostly just ignores me.
I shake my head and try again. "Bianca, I think Batman is here, and so we might want to hurry. I think there's going to be a superhero fight."
"Right," Bianca says, "if you're telling me this so I'll let you run the rest of the way, the answer is no. I've told you, if you fall and scrape your knees, Mom is going to—" And then she finally looks where I'm pointing and sees the dark car driving slowly behind us, and the rest of that sentence dies in her throat.
She picks up the pace, holding my hand tightly. Hazel can't quite keep up at this speed—Hazel is littler than me, she doesn't talk that much and she's not really fast enough to keep up with superheroes like me. Hazel falls to her knees, and Bianca's hand is sweaty, and instead of scolding Hazel, she lets go of my hand and scoops Hazel into her arms. And then she tells me, "Niccolò, stay right with me, okay? We're going to race to the toy store. Do you remember how to get to the toy store?"
"Yes!" I cheer. "I love the toy store!"
"Right—threetwoonego!" She takes off, and I'm sprinting after her, and I think it's unfair that she counted down so fast, but something about the way she's acting makes me be quiet about it.
We make it to the toy store in record time, and Bianca strides through the aisles quickly. I want to stop in the action figure aisle, but I figure it's better to wait until Bianca is feeling a little better. Maybe she was really spooked by the fact that we almost saw a superhero fight today.
The toy store has a tiny closed-off area that's meant for really little kids like Hazel. The walls are stocked with hundreds of stuffed animals, and there's a few kids' books on the floor from toddlers throwing tantrums. It's not visible from the street—I'm a little disappointed because I wanted to see if I could get a glimpse at Batman.
Bianca sets Hazel down in the little kid area and says, "Nico, stay with Hazel. I have to go ask the workers if I can borrow a phone."
Hazel is standing on her own now, staring at the stuffed animals with her fingers in her mouth. Gross. She grabs a stuffed horse off the shelves and holds it up to show Bianca. "Mine?"
"What!" I complain. "I'm not a little kid, Bianca."
Ignoring Hazel, Bianca finally snaps at me. "Niccolò! Shut up, stay here, and do not argue with me again—we don't have time for it."
Well, now I'm angry. She is not my mom! She doesn't get to yell at me. I'm considering the ways I can make her angry in return when—
Bang!
I startle. "Bee, what was—"
Bianca stifles my words with a sweaty hand over my mouth. Hazel is holding her stuffed horse, and her eyebrows are furrowed and her eyes are widening, and I groan because she's about to throw a fit over the sound.
Bang!
A woman cries out, and now I'm even starting to feel a little bit scared because it kind of sounds like maybe the supervillains are coming into the store. I can hear a little boy sobbing somewhere. But—this sort of thing doesn't happen to regular people. I mean, this only really happens to people like Batman and—
Bang!
I gasp at the sound, and Hazel is really crying now, so Bianca tries to make her be quiet. She lets go of me to keep one hand over Hazel's mouth and one hand running through her hair. She whispers, "It's alright, it's okay, everything is fine—"
Bang!
The little boy's crying stops. There are screams, and I can hear sirens in the distance. Shouldn't there be a superhero coming to save us? Where are the good guys?
Hazel is still sobbing. Bianca's hand has slipped from Hazel's mouth. Hazel doesn't know how to whisper, and her small voice says loudly in between sobs, "Pinky promise?"
Bianca covers Hazel's mouth again with one hand and interlocks her pinky with Hazel's with the other. "Pinky promise," she says, "so shh, and everything will be okay." Bianca keeps her voice low and quiet, barely audible. Hazel is still shaking from sobs, but she's trying to calm down.
I hear footsteps outside the little kid area, and judging by the way Bianca's entire body seizes with fear, she hears them, too.
My instincts tell me to run, but there's nowhere to go. The little kid area is just four walls of stuffed animals, one archway instead of a door, and no windows. If I run through the archway, I'll end up face-to-face with the footsteps. There's not even a door to try to lock the bad guys out. Where are the good guys?
I stand up, and Bianca's eyes are pleading me not to make a sound, and Hazel is still sniffling, and I know that we are going to die.
I back up, eyes glued to the open doorway. My back bumps against the shelves of stuffed animals, and an idea hits me.
I get down, making myself small, and hide among the giant squishmallows on the giant shelf. I pull a few of them closer, hiding myself, desperate to never be seen by those awful footsteps.
I'm about to lean over to gesture to Hazel and Bianca to do the same, but then the footsteps stop—and I peek through a tiny crevice between two stuffed animals. There are two large men in the doorway—pointing their guns at my sisters.
I'm paralyzed with fear. If I move, they're going to shoot me. I'm going to die I'm going to die I'm going to die I'm going to die I'm going to—
The Fate String snaps.
Bang!
Bianca is bleeding all over Hazel, and Hazel is sobbing, and then men grab Hazel, and I'm frozen with fear staring at Bianca on the ground. A small pool of blood is expanding beneath her body—she's laying face down. She doesn't move.
"This one we might be able to use," one man tells the other, casually. Like Hazel is a tool at the hardware store. "You think the boss will approve? She has golden eyes, so the police might recognize her too easily."
The other man shrugs. "Up to you. I say we take her with us. It would be a shame to do all this work for no reward."
The first man holds onto Hazel by the hair, considers her, and then hits her on the head with the gun. She howls but doesn't stop fighting—he hits her again. This time, it knocks her out, and she slumps, only being held up by the hand in her hair.
The first man hefts Hazel over his shoulder like a sack of flour, and my eyes are still stuck on Bianca, and I'm telling myself to go after those men and save Hazel, I'm telling myself a good guy would go save her right now, I'm telling myself that apparently no one is coming to save us and it's all up to me now.
And I can't get my legs to move.
And when the police show up, my eyes are still glued to Bianca.
And the men have gotten away.
"I should have saved Hazel," I whisper to one of the policewomen helping me. Images flicker through my head—of aimed guns, of the bullethole through my sister's head, of blood, of hair, of slumping, of dying, of hiding—
"Oh, honey," the policewoman says pitifully. "It's alright—you didn't do anything wrong. You're not a superhero, you couldn't have saved them all by yourself. I'm just glad you're safe."
I'm not a superhero. I couldn't have saved them.
The police officers can't get a word out of me after that.
Word count: 2199
Yeah so I'm sure you're all so happy with me right now lmao. Lmk what you think of the chapter!
How has your day been?
Yours,
Sunny