Hela On Earth

1-Welcome to Stark Tower

"Sima," she said, "this is about your real parents." My mouth felt dry as my mom spoke those words. Immediatly, I saw the worse posible situation. They were dead, or worse, alive, but still hated me. I assumed that they didn't like me at all, or despised babies, and that's why they left me to die in an alleyway. Maybe I was the result of what Misty called "a one-night stand". I didn't know, and I didn't want to know. Knowing would mean facing the truth, whether it was good or bad.

"M-my parents? Did you find them? Are they still in Brooklyn?" Her hand was still on my head, smoothing my hair, and my rising emotions.

"You can't know everyting just yet, darling. Soon, I promise, but right now there's a bit of a problem in space. Remember how last year, there was a guy they can crashing from what he called another realm?" I nodded, everyone knew about him, although we didn't know who or what he was. One of the good guys, but still, it was crazy to thik about. She continued. "Well, now we're afraid of some bad guys coming from there. You know you're special, right? Do you know what that means?"

"Special: Adjective. Surpassing what is common or usual, exceptional. Distinct of others of a kind-"

"Not exactly, Simmy." I stopped reciting the proper definition and waited for her to say more, but she didn't. "For now, we want you to be safe, so you need to go with these people. They're nice, and they'll take care of you." I started to shake my head. She couldn't be sending me away. Why? If I needed to be safe, so did everyone else. She's wrong. I'm not special. I rubbed my hands together nervously. They were feeling cold, extremely cold. They were always this way when I was upset. Vitoria said hers got sweaty, but mine get cold.

"Don't send me away, Mom! You can't!" My voice cracked and I wanted to kick myself for it. "If I'm in danger, you are too!"

"Sima, please! This is for your own good!" I couldn't stay and watch my own mother send me away with some spies, or "not exactly spies" as they called them selves. Not even thinking about where I would go, I bolted for the fire escape, upset and ready to cry. I didn't cry. I refused too. Eleven is too old to cry, I thought. I heard the clamber of someone chasing after me, but I kept going, iron step after iron step, then down the ladder and onto the street. The sky was dark by now, but the streetlights cast an orange glow on the deep puddles in the street as cars drove through them. Ripples vibrated across, but I didn't have time to observe the wonders of dirty rain water.

I lived in a section of Manhattan called Koreatown, and the closest subway station was 33rd street. I would take that down to Little Italy, where Heather lived. Agent Romanoff was calling for me, but I kept running. She and Coulson were fast, but I was faster. I made it to 33rd, and hopped on the next train south. Somehow they knew where I was going, because they got in just in time. I held my breath as they sat on each side of me. Even at nine thirty at night, the trains were busy.

"So, headed for your sister's house in Little Italy?" Coulson asked. My spirits sank. They knew, and now I had to change my direction. The train slowed to a stop and the doors opened, but I didn't move. I counted. One, two, three, four, five, incoming passengers stepped on. six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, no one else. The doors creaked and started to close. They relaxed, but I bolted. The metal doors screeched as pushed myself through them, barely making it through. I tripped on the yellow line, but swiftly got up and ran. I knew they would watch where I was going, but now we were going in opposite directions.

I was headed on the red line, Broadway, towards central park. Did I know anyone near there? Otherwise, I'd head south again, this time on a different line. As I stuffed my hands into my jacket pockets, my fingers ran across something hard and smooth. Victoria's phone. She must've slipped that into my pocket before she left, but that meant she knew. Victoria knew all alone.

I wasn't religious, but at that moment, I was so thankful for Victoria that I breathed a prayer to God. As her best friend, I knew her password. It opened to the phone keypad. I dialed her home phone and waited impatiently, my foot tapping the floor anxiously as the train raced through the city.

"Sim? Is that you?" Victoria's voice came through, "Thank the Lord! Listen, I can't explain, but I thought you might need my phone. Where are you?"

"On the red line, headed toward Central Park. What do I do? Those two axe murderers are going to be on my tail, and I don't know anyone up there, unless I go all the way to the Bronx!"

"My Aunt Tamaya lives near there."

"You have an Aunt Tamaya?"

"Of course I have an Aunt Tamaya! Also, watch out for Julius." I scratched my head, even though Victoria couldn't know if I was using gestures or not.

"Who's Julius?" I asked.

Victoria promptly explained. "Julius is from school. He's not in our grade. He hangs around that area a lot. I think his dad works at one of the skyscrapers near Colombia Circle. Anyways, he's always talking, and he'll talk to anyone about anything."

I noticed the train slowing to a stop and the electronic speaker blurted, "Central Park".

I stepped onto the street. The nice thing about Manhattan was that you were never alone. It wasn't like I was wandering an abandoned subway station at night. Victoria kept talking and talking about Julius, whoever he was, until I suddenly whispered, "oh snap".

"What's wrong?"

"I forgot that fifth graders don't run around Central Park at night. Some policemen are following me. Should I run?"

Victoria sucked in a breath. "How should I know? I'm African-American, so they automatically think I'm an axe murderer."

"What is with you and axe mur-" I bumped into someone so hard I fell against the wet cement. Victoria's phone didn't get wet, but I did. The person chuckled deeply, and I started to wonder if he was a psychopath.

Turns out, he was just a police officer. One of my hands tightly clutched my jacket, wringing the dampness out.

"Headed home, Miss? I'd be happy to drive you." He had a nice smile, and his badge was genuine, but I couldn't trust him. Then again, was his kind offer more of a suggestion? Perhaps, it didn't matter how long I eluded SHIELD. Everything comes full circle eventually.

Inside the police car, I felt my wet clothes create goosebumps on my skin. Rain drops dribbled down the sleek glass as my fingers pressed against the window, hot breath creating condensation. The Officer revealed his name as Officer Eagan and he was playing classic rock on the radio. A dispatcher crackled over the line, something I couldn't understand.

It was too late when I realized we were going the wrong direction. Something else didn't add up. Officer Eagan hadn't asked for my name, address, or any other vital information. The patrol car stopped in front of a huge skyscraper. One hand on my shoulder, the policeman walked me through the doors. The floor of the lobby was elegant marble, and a secretary was seated at a half-circle desk. Her black hair was tied in a loose braid and she stood as Officer Eagan handed me over like a random exchange.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Yolanda Aguilar. And you are...?" Yolanda spoke with a Spanish accent as she led me towards an elevator. We stepped inside. I hesitated before answering. She seemed nice, but so did Officer Eagan.

"Simmy Hampshire."

The elevator door opened to a very nice living room. Yolanda stepped inside and gestured for me to do the same. I thought she would introduce me to the others in the room, but she simply turned in her heel and exited the room. I was once again face to face with Agent Romanoff, and this time, she won.

She walked over and I gazed up at her. I felt like a stranger in this modern place.

"Simmy," she greeted, "Welcome to Stark Tower. "