Cherry || b.barnes

14 || Curiosity

He tends to disappear around the fifteenth of December, each year. That's what James said. And he must be right, mustn't he? In the end, he's Rogers' best friend. If anyone knew, it was him.

But why? Why would he do that? Mum used to say he disappeared before my birth, and even if it was actually the day calculated for me to first lay my eyes on the real world, there is no such thing as assurance for a child to come at that exact date. Mother told me she left the organization before I was born, too. And it cannot be a lie; my mother never lies to me. Lied to me. Never.

So why the fuck would my father disappear from the surface at my birthday each year? Where would he go? Back to Artemisa? Somewhere else entirely? Maybe still associated with Hydra, and therefore, trying to make sure I'm gone? But then again, it makes no sense he would only do it on my birthday. He could search for me the entire year.

I kick a small rock forth with my right foot, it clattering above the plaster stone of the narrow street I'm walking along. The sound is blurred in my ears, like someone put soaked swamps in them to block each and every noise, to trap me in my mind. Now and then, there's still a reminder of the snow that covered the streets recently, small clumps on the side of the road where the asphalt meets the sidewalk or the sidewalk meets a house wall. The air is chill, the slight breeze trying to freeze my cheeks with gentle strokes, but nature failed to recognize with whom they play that game with. It takes a lot for me to actually freeze. Plus, I wear my winter jacket again, so it is probably impossible.
The night is clear above me, clear as it could ever be with stars twinkling down and no cloud daring to cover their beauty. The view faintly reminds me on another story I once heard. I certainly did not get it from my mother; she may told me cruel things at times, violent ones, but not such. However, the story is one I drew a lot about. It used to busy me for more than a month or two, and whenever I look up at all the suns shining in different galaxies, I cannot help but think about the protagonist, her name so close to these celestial objects.

It is a story about love, primarily. But that's not what got me so caught up. Love never did, actually, was never something I felt intended for. It always seemed so vague, like no one really could put it into words, and therefore, so very distant. I don't mean the kind of love my mother gave me, but the kind in between two unrelated people. It was this story that almost made me believe there is such a thing, with all the drama the protagonist, Nova, had to get through, and still found her heart owned by another.
No, what really got me so caught up was her fierceness. Her ruthlessness. Her fearlessness. She stood for herself, against anyone and without any problems. There were so many obstacles in her path that I cannot quite remember all of them, from betrayal over loss over heartbrokenness, but she managed it all. She stood, each and every time, and I was so fascinated by this. How could someone be so strong? It wasn't her powers that made her mighty, but her mind. Of course, it had affected her. She has suffered, lived through torment and pain and all that, but she still stood her ground.
And ever since I heard that story, I wonder how I might become at least a little like her. If there were some rules to follow to become as astonishing.

But I just never will. Nova is stronger, next to the fact really celestial, and fictive. Everyone can be anything they want in fiction, but in real life? Most of the people would suffer from a stroke or a heart attack before they throw their first weapon.

Nonetheless, she is an idol to me. Somehow. She, too, struggled with two identities, some times more, some less. And she managed it.

So, why can't I? All I have to do is playing their little doll until I'm close enough, and what happened? I almost killed fucking James Barnes just because he mentioned my mother. I really can't risk anything like this again, and especially, on anyone else who isn't so... lenient about it.