The Civilian

II

You were staring at the pale green walls of your room for what seemed to be like forever, the conversation from the previous night felt more fresh then the memory of waking up from the nightmare. It was a crazy idea of you being able to replace Denzel, then that would mean your mother would be left with him, trying to be you.

The thoughts began to run around in a forever like circling thought process, one that you couldn't seem to grasp and understand. Groaning loudly, you sat up in bed and stared at the indent in the wall where more family pictures rested along with a glaring clock.

6:03am.

An ungodly hour, but an hour that was too familiar. Palms roughly mushed your face together in order to wake up completely. There was no reason to attempt and try to fall back to sleep, this was normal. After rubbing your face to the point where it began to ache, you halted your actions and stared down at your hands. [Colour] eyes traced every inch, curve and indent that the lines created, the swirls of your fingerprints and then focused.

The covers pushed back down towards the bottom of the bed, long gangy legs touched down on the wooden floors. Before you knew it, you were staring the reflection of your brother in the mirror placed in the corner of your bedroom. You brushed away short auburn locks, blue eyes staring back into blue eyes. You held the true focus of a Mimic, no need to remember each aspect of the person you desired to transform into. You just could, because you had the ability to.

Turning away from the mirror, you felt the fullness of your own body returning to it's correct appearance. The questions subsided when you were thirteen about the reason why both you and Denzel had the ability to do these things, your mother mentioned something along the lines of that it was in your blood. Chewing on your bottom lip, you figured it had to do something with your father's side of the family. No one knows much about them, no one seemed to care to know about one of the Hero's parents, only their offspring.

The morning ritual suddenly began, the act of dressing, brushing your hair and teeth. By the time you managed to finish, it was only fifteen minutes before seven, and you frowned. It was still way too early to do anything, it was the weekend after all. Your mother was probably sound asleep, having worked all night and coming home most likely at forty thirty, or five.

There was absolutely no reason for why Denzel would be up at all at this hour. No one would ever be awake this early, expect for.. yeah. You tried not to think back that far, there wasn't a reason to after all. Deciding to do something in order to get your mind off of that, you decided to slide open your closet door and began to rummage between the sad mess of both clean and dirty clothes.

You had to refer to deeply inhaling each smell to decipher what was clean and what was agreeable to wear on a run.

Music filled the empty thoughtless space in your mind as you ran along the road out towards the nearest lake to the city. It was only a couple of miles out of the small city's limits, the run was nothing to compared to the time you decided to race Denzel to the Village of Mist, which was a laugh and a half.

Your mother had to pick you up at the 2/3rd mark, more mad about the fact that you had ditched Denzel at the 1/3rd way mark.

Eventually the smell of the lake began to fill into your lungs, it was as if you were at Port Royale. Just without the sea salt air, something that you actually wished that you could smell at that minute.

The sunrise began to peek over the horizon by the time you finally managed to reach the shoreline of the lake. The sight of how the rays bounced off of the small cresting waves was a sight to behold that you felt lucky to be able to see at that moment.