Prolouge

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I walk down the rainy alleyway, twisting the ring that I made with my best friend back when things were normal. I blow my wet strawberry blonde hair out of my eyes and pull my coat on tighter, making my way back to my so called house. It's really just an abandoned attic on top of an old market place that sells fruit. I have to climb through the window if I want to get in. But it's home, it's all I have. At least I don't have to pay for it, because no one knows I live there. It's located in a alley of a sketchy neighborhood in Manhattan, New York. I make money by working at the local Subway on Park Avenue, I'm the youngest worker there, at fifteen. Got the job as soon as I could, started working on my birthday.

I turn down another alley, and hear voices coming from the far end. Stopping, I squint my eyes in that direction, keeping to the shadows and trying to make out the dark figures at the end. I see the sillouettes of four people, by the looks of it in their late teens. My nose catches the strong smell of tobacco and cheap whiskey. I scrunch up my nose and look for another way to my place. I see an alleyway that turns off just a few meters from where I am and hope to God that I make it there before these people see me. 

Holding my breath, I creep forward one step at a time, listening intently at the sound of drunken laughter coming from the group. My feet hardly make any noise as I get closer to my turn-off. Now I'm close enough to see the people better, and hear what they're saying.

"Did ya see the guys face!? "One guy who appears to have a cigarette in his mouth speaks with a thick Scottish accent, like mine. Everyone laughs at his comment as he then turns to another guy and says,"Eh mate, gimme da baccy." The guy hands him another cigarette and the Scottish guy replaces it to his old one. Then the only girl speaks,

"Wimp ran away after one go! Damn bastard." She speaks and they all laugh, I have no clue what they're talking about.

"Eh, but 'e had to 'ave nee'ed another!" A guy with a Jersey accent speaks up, sounding the drunkest of them all. Now I really have no idea what they're talking about. I am so close to the corner, just a few more steps and I'm bound to make it. They all start laughing again and my head darts up, not looking where I am going. I hear a clattering and look down to see that I've kicked a small metal can on accident. My eyes widen and I look up to see if anyone noticed. They've all quieted down and are now looking in my direction, squinting their eyes.

"Hey, you there!" 

Oh they noticed all right.

I bolt out of my hiding spot and rush around the corner I was aiming for, radiating slightly because of my glitching problem. My hands begin to give off pixels of rainbow and I feel my strawberry blonde hair getting all staticky. 

No no no, please not now.

Unfortunately, my body doesn't like to listen to me, so before I know it, I'm back in the alleyway that the gang is in. They seemed to have been about to run after me, but now I'm right in front of then and their mouths are hanging open. Scottie's cigarette falls from his mouth and to the ground, and I start sprinting again, and they chase me. I try to use my powers but I can't concentrate hard enough on my destination and all that happens is a burst of pixels from my body, causing me to fall over. I feel two pairs of hands gruffly pick me up and slam me against a wall. I hold in my whimper and glare hard at the guys who are holding me. My heart starts racing as I thought of the things they could do to me.

I'm in for it now.


~STEVE ROGERS POV~

I'm walking down Park Avenue, which is still pretty bashed up from the Alien incident that occured almost a month ago. Construction buzzes everywhere while rain patters on people's umbrellas. It's a wet night, but that doesn't stop me from walking around the city, the city that's hard to believe was the same city I lived in before the ice. I'm definitely not used to it, how can you be used to all these gadgets and gizmos? Whozits and whatzits. 

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