Skylar gets weather powers because she was struck by lightning trying to save her truck from a group of thugs who were after something that her father had stolen from his boss. The lightning was fabricated and not natural. Skylar getting powers was...
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Last summer I was struck by lightning while trying to save my truck from getting jacked by a group of lowlifes. It was the worst storm I'd seen in my 22 years as a Wistonville, Kansas resident and the storm alarms were blaring all across town. My roommate had been screaming at me to get in the basement but before I could follow her down I needed to get a tarp wrapped around my truck before the storm could beat it to death.
My '93 Dodge Ram 1500 was the last vestige I had of my family. Her faded red and charcoal paint job was nothing special to look at. She had unexplainable dents and scratches and plenty more that I had given her myself. But she was my baby, for better or worse. She had been at the mechanic - as usual - when the fire came and took my family away from me.
When the smoke cleared and I was released from the B.I.C.U. where I'd been treated for severe burns and excessive smoke inhalation I had nothing to call my own. My parents had not been rich. Everything we'd owned was now nothing but a pile of ashes. So when I found out that the truck had survived I insisted on keeping it for myself. Technically the bank owned it but I cleaned out my measly savings to pay off the loan and get it in my name. It had been put into storage because my social workers wouldn't let me drive it until I was 17. And even after 5 years I could still smell my Dad's favorite aftershave when I climbed into the cab.
I had been desperately searching the small shed behind the house we rented for my heavy duty tarp - bought for exactly this reason - when a burst of lightning revealed a group of guys coming down the alley. At first I thought nothing of them, but in between throwing old planters and shovels out of my way and before they noticed me, I saw them stop running and gather around my truck. The thunder rolled, shaking me to my core as I watched one of them take his shirt off and wrap it around his fist.
My breath caught in my throat and I abandoned my search for the stupid tarp, running outside without thinking of the consequences to save my truck from a different kind of danger.
"Hey!" I screamed at the thugs. "What do you think you're doing!?" My anger made me brave.
Four sets of wide eyes turned to stare at me in shock. I took some pleasure in the fact that they were scared of me. That is, they were scared only until they realized what they were looking at... I'm not very intimidating - especially in my pajamas. I'm all of 5'5" and only 110 pounds soaking wet. My scariest feature is my striking green eyes, and these guys weren't close enough to see the fire in them.
The one with his shirt off, obviously their leader, smirked at me and fearlessly smashed the window in with one punch.
"Nooo!" I screamed, falling to my knees in shock. I couldn't lose my truck! It would be like losing my family all over again. It's all I had left!
They unlocked the door and two of them piled into the cab and began trying to hot-wire it while the other two looked on.
I was still dramatically sobbing into the pavement - my heavy tears mixing with the falling rain - when I heard the guys cursing at each other. Apparently one of them was trying to wuss out. He didn't like stealing from "some little girl." The others apparently had no conscience and told him to "grow a pair and finish the job."
I lifted my head and uncurled myself from the ground, curious to see who would win this fight. They were out of the truck now getting in each other's faces as they argued louder and louder. I gasped as the leader of the group, still shirtless and full of adrenaline, threw a punch at the slightly bigger than him sympathetic guy screaming profanities into the wind and rain. The bigger guy somehow managed to dodge and tackle, gaining the upper hand in the fight. They wrestled on the concrete until the bigger guy managed to sit on the leader's chest. Then all I could see was smears of blood as he beat his leader relentlessly. This fight obviously went deeper than just different opinions on stealing my truck.
Horrified, I looked up to see that the other two guys were still trying to get my truck started while mostly ignoring the beating going on mere feet from them. I took a few steps closer unsure of which group to stop. I wasn't thinking straight. Should I try to help the guy who was standing up for me, or try to take on the ones huddled in the driver's seat assaulting my console? The choice was made for me as I heard the whoop of victory alongside the roar of my old dodge engine.
The sound sent me running as fast as I could to the cab of the truck. I tried helplessly to pull the man away, grabbing ahold of his long hair and jumping on his back. Full of rage and seeing red, I hit and scratched wherever I could manage. I had no idea what I was going to do against four big guys but I would never forgive myself if I lost my truck without even trying to put up a fight.
I somehow managed to get the long haired thug away from the driver's seat. He twisted and grabbed for me but I held on tightly to his back as I tried to scratch his eyes out. He was almost three times my size and soaking wet from the rain, I knew I wouldn't be able to hold on for much longer. He was shouting at his buddy in the truck to help him out but the other guy couldn't stop laughing at the spectacle we made.
"I'm done with this shit! Let's get out of here!" I heard their leader yell angrily as another set of hands suddenly - roughly - pulled me off of the man I was trying to maul and threw me to the ground where I hit my head hard enough for me to see spots. He had managed to escape the sympathetic guy and was now determined to flee the scene.
I looked up, squinting into the falling rain, at my assailant and gasped. His face was swollen from bruises and cuts worse than I'd ever seen - which was saying something because I worked in a bar. Without a second thought, for me or even for his friend, he ran for the cab of the truck and soon all I could see were my taillights fading away in the rain.
The thunder rolled loudly and the lightning cracked viciously close to us but I hardly noticed. I was numb. The last physical remnant of my family was gone. I felt so alone all of the sudden. But I wasn't. A groan sounded to my left and I was reminded of the guy who had stood up for me, for my truck. I glanced behind me and saw the man curled into himself clutching his stomach. And just as our eyes locked, a mighty burst of lightning shot down from the sky and straight through my chest.
