Heart of Flame: Freshmen Year

Chapter 15

Throughout the weekend, I was dreading Monday. And not for the usual teenager reasons.

On Saturday, some kids from my school had walked by my house, and whenever I looked out a window to see if they were gone, they would pelt the window I was looking out of with rocks, making me jump because of my enhanced senses. Later in the evening, while I was trying to relax, I heard someone pull up to our driveway. At first, I paid them no mind and just hopped they would go away, but then I heard they were playing something, so I opened up my window to see what they were playing. ".... Thousands of KADT soldiers had sacrificed their lives, D.C is in ruins and there is no sign of the Kaiju King or his army." I heard the speakers play. I felt a lump in my throat grow. I knew what they were playing. They were playing the documentary about the D.C attack my father lead fourteen years ago. My history teacher back in eighth grade had made us watch it since we were studying American History, and trust me, it wasn't pretty. I slammed my window closed, and, determined not to listen, I grabbed my phone and my headphones, turned on my music player and I started playing some songs.

      Sunday was pretty bad, too. A different group of teens had pulled up in our driveway, and they started pelting our house with silver and blue paintballs from paintball guns, probably ruining mom's hard work at repainting the house. Why silver and blue? Silver and blue is known as the KADT's colors, since they are the opposite of red and gold (my dad's "colors"). I tried to go outside to try and clean up their mess so mom wouldn't see, but whenever I tried to step a foot outside my house, people would start shooting me with their paintballs. Now, I may have thick scales for skin, but they are apparently not thick enough for speeding paintballs coming my way. I would run back inside the house, and I looked on my arms to see the damage. Underneath the paint, there was bright red marks from where they hit. I sighed, toughened the pain out and went to go take a shower. When mom saw what they had did, she got mad and called the police on them for property damage and hurting a minor, but the police didn't care, so they didn't do anything.     

"Don't worry Sorcha, if the police don't do anything, I certainly will." Mom reassured me as she treated my marks, since apparently whatever paint they used was not good for scales. "If you do that, then you'll just get thrown into prison." I pointed out. Mom rolled her eyes. "Who says the police will find out?" Mom teased. I smiled a little, and I flinched as I felt my wounds sting. "Damn, what kind of paint did they use? It's corroding your scales." I heard mom mutter. I just shrugged. "Whatever they use in regular paintball guns, probably." I muttered. I heard mom sigh and felt her pat my shoulder. "Sorcha, I just want to let you know, none of this is your fault, okay? Some people are just massive dickheads." Mom said, trying to get me to smile. "Like dad?" I half muttered under my breath. "What? Sorcha, no! Your father loves you, he's just..." Mom was struggling to find the right word. "Uncaring? A Tyrant? Psychotic?" I asked, feeling bitter about the whole situation. "Sorcha! That is no way to talk about your father!" Mom scolded me. "It's a free country. I can talk about him any way I like!" I said, getting angry. "So?! You can't just blame him for everything that's happening!" Mom said. I sensed she was getting angry, too. "Yes I can, because if he had never attacked in the first place, I wouldn't be in the situation!" I yelled back. Letting my anger simmer for a moment, we sat in silence for a bit before I heard my mom sigh. "If only you knew..." I heard her mutter before she left. I just sat there, angry about the whole situation.

      When I woke up on Monday, I realized my alarm clock hadn't gone off. I looked up, and I saw mom was the one who had woken me up. "Mom? Aren't you supposed to be at the Base?" I asked, rubbing my eyes sleepily. "I asked if I could be a little late today so I can make sure you don't skip school today." She said. "Now, get up, I made you breakfast." She said before leaving. I smelled the air, and sure enough, I smelled the aroma of breakfast coming from downstairs. Mouth watering, I got up, got dressed and rushed downstairs.