𝐓𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐄 / umbrella academy - ᶠ.ʰ.

𝐢. THEY SAY HUMANS HAVE THREE LIVES

AREQUIPA, PERU 1994

DEEP IN THE WHITE CITY, AREQUIPA, STOOD A COLONIAL HOUSE. The fervent fuchsia walls were just about peeling under the sun's brutality, revealing the taupe walls amongst the bleached pink. The windows, gated with corroded metal bars, not bearing subject to the peril which may try to set foot in the house. The sun was just beginning to rise over the horizon, casting a golden spell across the city. The door enclosing a brimming family within.

Inside, a family, comfortably accustomed to the vast tiled floors which had danced around the entire house in its deep rose song. A mother, squat, but despite her size she was at large with love and overflowing with an undeniable warmth. Her hair was an enviable pure black, falling into plaits on either side of her face. The lines in her skin were craters and canyons, aged but experienced- when she smiled the lines would deepen into an abyss of joy, splitting her skin like it was dry land. Her eyes, portals of darkened honey, swirling into a golden brown storm. Despite the affability and approachability which wandered in her eyes, her gaze was sharp- she was quick-witted and she always saw everything. She would whisper consoling words to her loved ones but her tongue was a blade laced with venom, poisoning anyone who dared to hassle her.

Running wild within the walls were six kids, five of which were planned. One, however, was not planned in the slightest. The mother knew there was something unique about their miracle baby- apart from the part where she was born without being conceived at all- she felt something coursing through her blood and she knew the child was destined for great things, or could achieve so. This was mainly fueled by the fact that an aberrant man dressed in leather and goggles came to their doorstep offering to barter the child for any sum of money of their choosing. So there was definitely something peculiar about her. Her mother was yet to see what, however. Family devotion is just culture in Peru- blood will always be thicker than water for them, so when the man had asked for a price, best believe he was kicked by his ass out the door.

The girl's father was the provider- they managed to rack in a good income, they had a nice house for their large family and it was all very desirable. When then man came asking for his daughter, her father already had the money they needed, selling his daughter wouldn't do the family any good but merely a year after, he had been put out of a job. Money soon became tight and dirty work was really the only way the Mendozas could get by and keep the house.

It was a relatively temperate night- the sky was an amalgamation of ceruleans in the abyss, stars dotted around, polluting the sky in their beacons of light. The moon hung like a luminous pearl, a galleon tossed in the rioting darkness, casting a soft glow over the city. Despite the harmonies materialising within the night's symphony, within the house was a different story. Adriana Mendoza was a tempest, turbulence erupting with her screams, protesting against the fated bed-time. "Adriana, por favor"  her mother pleaded, trying her best to place the unruly girl in bed but in her arms the girl thrashed and screamed, eventually weaving out of her grasp.

"Adriana, escucha a tu madre!" her father was only adamant that she listen to her mother but even his blaring baritone wasn't enough for the girl to listen. It was times like these that her mother wished she had given the girl away- she was just as disciplined as the rest of her siblings yet she was always stubborn in disobeying her parents. The two had had enough of trying to force her into bed, even using the slipper to scare her but she seemed unfazed. So with a final "Y tú qué te crees? La última chupada del mango? ¡Multa! Vete a dormir, no te vayas a dormir. Buenas noches," (Who do you think you are? Fine! Go to sleep, don't go to sleep. Goodnight!)

The woman had followed her husband out, slamming the door behind them as Adriana's tantrum had multiplied tenfold- her cries tore through the building, shredding her lungs as she made her house practically cave in on itself. The yelling between her parents were muffled, it didn't last too long because after a few minutes it had quietened down. Silence. This might've inspired something within the girl because she was only down to sniffling, now. The seemingly tepid air now sent shivers across her skin. It was eerily cold, nights were never so chilling so the girl had rushed to her bed, grabbing her stuffed alpaca plush, holding it close to her quivering body, her eyes trickling with the salty brine of her tears which had glazed the rosebeds upon her face.