Words

Again...

As she walked home, she gripped the papers in her hand.

"Denied again.." She thought. "Why can't they just accept it for once? Why can't they accept me?"

Tears streamed down her face. It wasn't the first time she was denied the right of joining congress. They always had an excuse. She's seen as nothing more than a mascot. Something pretty to see. Something fun. Just a figure. A frame. She was never allowed to exist by herself. There was always a bodyguard. There was always a curfew. There was always a factor that constrained her. A factor that held her down.

Amelia had always been the center of people's attention, really. She didn't mind the attention when it seemed negative either, but to be told over and over that she doesn't even deserve the lifestyle she has to promise others is just repetitive heartbreak to her. The desperation for her own promises claws at her. It pulls away her strength. It shatters her soul.

She shut her front door, locking it behind her, and collapsing back onto it, sliding to the ground, shaking as she tries to read the denial form. But she can't. She can't even get through the first sentence on the page without feeling the heavy wave of anger and humiliation that has chased her for years. As she started sobbing through her rage, she threw the form across the room. Every inch of her body felt hot, as if she were being boiled alive, but she was cold. A sensation of dread that could never be put in words.

As she leaned back against the door to once again relax, her phone began to chime, and she panicked, fumbling it around as she pulled it from her pocket.
It was Francis, her father.
She hesitated, but answered.

"Hello?" His voice gentle and sweet. A true comfort for her in this moment.

"Hey dad, is... is there a reason you called?"

"I just wanted to check on you, dear....you sound like you needed a call anyways, hm?"

"..Yeah... I was denied again..."

"Oh, sweetie, I'm sorry to hear that..."

"It's fine.. It's just the same cycle as usual. I'll just try again."

"Maybe give yourself a break, sweetheart? You worry me. I've had to bleach the grey from my hair twice this month."

Amelia gave a small giggle. "Dad.... I-... I can say that I'll try. But you know that all I want-"

"That all you want is to be seen as more than a dumb pretty lady? You are more than that, dear! You are an intelligent, strong, and independent woman. You don't need to constantly do this to yourself!"

"Dad.. I know. L-look. I have to go. I just got home and I'd really like to relax for a while, especially after being rejected again."

"I understand. Promise you'll message me later so I can know that you are alright. I just want you to be safe."

"I promise. I love you, dad."

"I love you too, sweetie. Rest well, dear."

She hung up, taking in a deep and heavy sigh, looking around her living room with too much exhaustion to even bother standing up and heading to her couch. She was tired. Physically tired. Her body has felt like it was falling apart. It has for a while now. A few decades, for sure, and with each day hurting more than the last. She made sure to keep her pain to herself as to not worry others, well, and because she believed it would stain her good image.

"Superpowers don't suffer. Superpowers don't feel tired. Superpowers don't need help." Echoed in her mind almost daily.

As she crawled across her living room floor and pulled herself on to her couch, she let out a gentle huff of air, her gut tensing up as she flopped on the cushions. As she laid there, allowing her body to relax, she felt her phone buzz in her hand. She rolled her eyes when she checked the notifications. 

"Mattie" She thought. "Why do you always spam me after anyone expresses concern? You know I'm okay."

She clearly wasn't.

See, most others noticed when Amelia started losing her hope for her future. They certainly noticed when she seemed to have almost gone off the deep end just a few months prior. Her latest response to her father irked him in a way that he could only describe as "almost too normal." Typically, she threw a tantrum. She yelled. She wept. She hit things and stomped her feet. But she was tired. Amelia couldn't dare express her anger at the world. Her body just didn't allow her the energy. Her head was too spun around with ideas of how to escape her embarrassment.

In desperation, she managed to call the only person she felt would understand.