Can I Call This Home? (discontinued)

☊⊑⏃⌿⏁⟒⍀ 3

TW - Burns and broken ankles

I carefully walked behind the group as they entered the living room, sitting down in their chairs surrounding where Phil was sitting. There was a chair left alone, the farthest chair from Phil,  and I was sure it was for me. But I didn't sit. Instead, I stood away from them, my fist held tightly that my knuckles were turning white.

With a tired sigh, Phil sat back in his chair, obviously trying to figure out how to start this. I knew that face from the few foster homes I had been in where they would always try and send me off nicely, acting as if I hadn't been locked in a closet seconds before.

"You know, I was going to start this huge speech of how we got our powers and why we were hiding them from you, but I don't know why I should when you are over there hiding your own power" I froze as I made eye contact with him. How did he know? I hadn't used it yet, and I knew for a fact that I don't show when I use it.

With the fear that was going through me, I could feel the feeling of my power rising up again in my chest, but I pushed it down, noticing the knowing look that Phil had on his face. It wasn't any signal I was giving him. It was his power.

"You have a power too? Can you show us?" Alex asked, leaning against the edge of his chair, with the only reason that he hadn't fallen was Karl holding on the back of his shirt.

I didn't respond, only shaking my head. I couldn't use my power. I wasn't risking my memory just for a fun party trick. I had done that before. It had been worth it for her, but I wasn't doing it for these people.

Alex groaned in disappointment, but Phil sighed and looked at his watch.

"Boys it's time for bed. Go get ready. But Ranboo, stay back for a moment please" Everyone else groans at this and they stand from their seats, racing up the stairs as they hurried to get to the bathroom first. Even though each room has its own bathroom.

Just as Phil asked, I stayed behind, frozen to the spot, my hand still tightly holding the knife. I was scared about why he had asked me to stay. Was he going to attack me? Force me to use my power? Lock me in the basement?

He stood from his chair and I flinched, swinging out with the knife as he approached me. But he grabbed my hand, stopping it before I could scratch him with it. Carefully, he took the knife from my hand as I tried to pull my arm from his grip.

Then he let go of my arm and I nearly fell back from being released so suddenly, but I caught myself on the wall as he inspected my knife.

"Your blade is dull. This wouldn't have cut us unless you swung it with lots of force. But your stance was weak. You wouldn't have even been able to break skin" Phil closed my knife, and then held it out for me to grab.

Hesitantly, I reached out and took the knife back from him, slipping it into my pocket again.

"But that isn't what I wanted to talk to you about" He said and pulled a notebook from his pocket, sitting back in his chair. "If it is ok with you, I would like to know more about your power. I do this for every special kid who I take in so that I can help them improve their power anyway I can" He clicks his pen once, scribbling on the page he had opened to, "and from what I can tell, you have a very strong power. It would be wonderful to help you improve it" He seemed so kind, so genuine, but I shook my head.

"I'm sorry, but I would rather not" I said quietly. I wasn't sure what he would do with the information that I would give him. And improving my power wasn't something I wanted to do. If I did that, it means that if they manage to catch me, they could do more. Hurt more people.

Phil sighs once more and closes his notebook slightly, making eye contact with me "If that is your decision, then you don't have to tell me." He checked his watch again "I would recommend going to get ready to sleep now, as power goes out at ten and I'm not sure if you would enjoy brushing your teeth in the dark"

I nod, and walk towards the stairs, every step on the wooden floor making a loud creak. I could feel Phil's eyes on me as I climbed, and I walked faster, letting out a sigh of relief when I turned the corner and was no longer in Phil's view.

Once I reached the top of the stairs, I walked faster towards the room I was staying in, locking the door behind me. Then I grabbed my backpack, making sure everything was still there before zipping it up. 

I could still run tonight. It would have to be late, but I could do it. I could leave. I had to leave. If these people somehow weren't working for him, when he found me he would take them. He would use them for experiments. He would kill them for fun. I couldn't let him do that.

I swung my backpack onto my back and investigated the window locks, noticing how easy they would be to unlock. Either Phil was stupid, or this was planned. I'm hoping it's the first one.

But the locks weren't the only thing that was making me uneasy about my plan. Outside, the clouds were gathering, turning the sky grey as it blocked the remaining bits of sun. It looked like it was going to rain. And my relationship with rain isn't too good.

I set my backpack back down and searched through it, grabbing the yellow raincoat from it. The coat would be quite bright. They would see me. With even more hope that it wouldn't rain, I put the jacket back. I couldn't let them stop me because of my allergy to rain.

I pulled my headphones from under where my jacket was, plugging them into my phone before putting in the earbuds. There were 4 hours before I wanted to leave, meaning I had lots of time to waste. But Phil wasn't lying about the power going out at 10, so I spent most of my time waiting in the dark, fighting against sleep as music played through my headphones.

And then the hour came. I pulled up my hood, stuffed my phone in my pocket, slung my backpack onto my back and opened the window easily, climbing onto the roof. We were quite high up, but I had dealt with a broken ankle before. I could deal with it again.

I ended up finding a tree close to the main road, and I grabbed onto one of it's branches, lowering myself closer to the ground before I let go and fell to the ground, my ankle cracking just like how I expected it would. Pain rushed up through my leg, but I ignored it and stood, grabbing some tape from a side pocket on my backpack and taping a stick to my leg, forming a small splint. Once that was done, I hobbled away from the house quietly, flinching every time something crunched under my feet.

When I had left the tree perimeter, I finally let out the breath that I had been holding and started to hobble faster, quickly pulling up google maps to make sure I was going the right way. And I was, so I continued walking, my make-shift splint working so far.

When I could no longer see the house, I was tired and my legs hurt, but I felt better. I didn't bother stopping to rest my throbbing ankle. Instead, I continued on my way, turning on music.

Everything was going fine. So of course, something went wrong.

A droplet of water hit my nose and I hissed slightly, feeling the burn forming. I pulled my hood up quickly as I felt the rain get stronger, hitting down harder and faster.

I quickly opened my backpack and pulled out my jacket, throwing it over my hoodie, leaving only my face and hands bare. After the backpack was back on, I stuffed my hands into my pockets and turned my head to face the ground, before starting to walk faster, trying to find anywhere I could get shelter.

But the jacket was old, and I could feel water seeping through the threads, burning my skin everywhere the water touched. Why did I do this? I knew that it looked like rain, and now I was sitting here with my neck burning. I should've stayed there. I could have escaped another day.

And since life has a way of proving that things can get worse, this was the moment my splint gave out on me, the stick snapping in half, sending me and my broken ankle to the ground.

But I couldn't stop. I was in the open. The rain could get me. They could get me.

But I couldn't move. Everything hurt. Maybe I could just die in here. Nothing would be lost. I wasn't important.

My eyes were getting heavier and I gave up on standing up, letting myself stay on the ground tears leaking from my eyes and tracing burning trails down my eyes before landing in the already wet floor.

There was nothing I could do but die.