Battlefield ✪ s. rogers

✪chapter zero✪

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TEN YEARS AGO

     I sat in a diner, alone, with a hoodie over my head and my face turned down to look at the table. My hastily copped blonde hair was a mess as it hung down my cheeks. It was long enough to reach my shoulders and I never tied it back, unless I was sleeping somewhere well hidden. My face couldn't be seen or everything would be over.

I was on the run with hardly any money left in my pockets and I was starving.

When I escaped, I snatched up as much cash as I could stuff into the pockets of the dingy old medical scrubs that I was forced to wear. It turned out to be just over a grand in cash that I had grabbed, but now, it was already down to about $50.

I took a look at the menu, hoping to find something to curb my appetite and still leave me with some cash, my legs were bouncing with anxiety. I knew they were looking for me. I had overheard once that I was pretty valuable to them. And now that I was gone, there was no doubt in my mind that they were looking for me everywhere. That's why I cut my pretty and long blonde hair to be short and I always wore the hoodie; which I stole off of a chair outside of a little coffee shop in D.C.

Every time that I heard the door of the diner open, I felt like I may have a panic attack. And when I would lift my head just enough to see the doorway, I'd find that it was just another smiling, happy, laughing group of customers hoping to get a nice, hot meal to eat.

Just like me. Just...not the smiling, happy, or laughing parts.

Once I ordered my food with a cup of cold water to drink and the waitress took my menu, I kept my head down so that I was looking at the table and I just sat there, fiddling my fingers underneath the table while my leg bounced up and down anxiously.

A buzzing noise suddenly appeared close to me and my head starting turning on a swivel. My alert and fearful gaze searched the diner for any big, scary-looking men with guns and taser wands. But I didn't see anything strange, though the buzzing sound was still there. There were just no big and scary men were staring at me or coming toward me.

I looked back down at the table top and when I let my hearing focus on the buzzing sound, that was when I noticed that the sound was coming from right underneath my table.

Slowly, I started to lift my hands from under the table. I started shaking and sputtering to catch my breath when I saw electric sparks emitted from my fingertips.

"Here's your—" I heard someone near me start before they interrupted themselves with a gasp. My head snapped up sharply and my eyes widened when I saw the waitress, whom had just taken my order, standing beside my booth. She held my glass of water in her and staring at my hands with her eyes open wide in a fear that matched my own. The glass of water fell out of her hand and the sound of the shattering glass made many customers turn toward us.