Aspects of Hope

"They say a person only needs just three strings to be happy in this world: someone to love, something to do, and something to hope for." - Tom Bodett

Prologue

Brooklyn, New York, 1919

"I saw it first!"

"No you didn't! I had it first!"

"Oh really? Then why is it in my hand?"

"Give it back you big-"

I've always been one to hold in my emotions. I never took down my walls, just in case I were to hurt someone. Inflicting harm on an innocent person is never my intension, though to them it always seems like it. But there are times when I just can't hold it in. Usually, I'm not in public when this happens, but I made the stupid mistake into coming here and now my top is going to blow.

These two women have been fighting over a stupid cardigan for five minutes, and no one has bothered to break them up. Well, I intend to do just that. I could feel the heat numbing my hands as I spun around on my heel, glaring daggers at the women who paid no attention to me whatsoever.

I advanced towards them, a small flame growing in the palm of my hand, becoming larger as my anger and agitation increased for the bickering women. As I stopped only a foot away from them, they stopped their rambling and stared straight at me, then their gaze flickered down to my hands which were now completely on fire.

"Will you so kindly as to please shut up?" I spat at them, pulling their attention from my burning hands and into my rage-filled eyes. Both of their faces contorted into one of fear as they let go of the fabric, letting it glide down to the floor like a leaf in the autumn.

One of them with brown hair and dark brown eyes started at me with such horror, I thought she might pass out just from the sight of me. She muttered only three words, words that I have heard many times before: "what are you?"

I wanted to answer, I wanted to tell her that I was not intending to bring them any harm, but my mouth just wouldn't say a thing as I slapped her with my right hand. In the back of my mind, I found a voice. This small voice was screaming at me to stop, to just turn and walk away and find somewhere to hide. I pushed it further back into my brain, where the voice was only a mere mumble that I could no longer understand.

The woman let out a squeal of surprise and shock as my hot hand came into contact with her cheek. Her skin was black, scorched from my touch, and that just made me hate myself more than I already did. The other woman gasped, stepping back and away from me. By now, the other people in the store had taken notice to the scene taking place. In a sickening way, I almost enjoyed seeing the fear flash across their faces, knowing that they are afraid and that I finally have the advantage. But I shook it away.

I stopped my gaze on a little boy, looking no older than five clinging to his mother's hand, holding a small figurine in his other hand. He stared at me in shock, his bright blue eyes sparkling in wonder at my hands which were now cooling off at the sight of him. He had blonde hair, eyes the color of the sky and a face full of life that it made me envious. I wanted something like that. I didn't want this curse set upon me.

After cooling down, I could start to hear police sirens blaring on the block. They were coming for me. With one last look at the boy, I flashed him a small smile and began to run. Bursting through the back door, I heard the owner scream at me to stop and to come back. I scoffed at her idiocy as I ran down the alleyway.

I couldn't get lost here. I knew this town by heart and every alleyway had one dead end, obviously, but I had my own ways to make these dead ends something more.

As I approached a large brick wall, the heavy footsteps and loud shouts echoed down the alley, making my heart beat rapidly in my chest. I took in a deep breath, faced the palms of my hands toward the cement ground, and used the element of air to lift me up onto the roof of a building.

I watched from my perch on the roof as the police searched behind every dumpster and in every crevice, but never being able to find me anywhere.

I almost laughed at them, finally giving up on me and leaving the alleyway with confused features set upon each of their faces. Leaning my back up against an air conditioning machine, I let out a sigh.

Half of my life has been like this: running and hiding. When I was little, I was normal. Just a girl with a father and mother going to school everyday with a smile on her face and a teddy bear always tucked under her arm. Well, when my mother passed away, that little girl's life changed so much. Every single day was something different yet totally the same.

My father began to use me for his experiments, which later on I found out that's how my mother had died. He used her for the same thing, but during the process her body couldn't handle all of the power that he injected in her. How he thought that I could was a mystery to me still, but somehow I could. At first, I had just my powers, but soon he gave me immortality. At such a young age, I didn't know what that meant, but soon I stopped going to school and I figured out that I was unable to age.

He gave me something so terrifying to me, I didn't know what to do besides run away. I ended up first in Washington, then gradually making my way across the country where I am now. Brooklyn, as busy as it is, it seems so unlikely for a fugitive to turn to, but I love the city. There is so many places where you can hide, and that's what I have been doing with my life for so many years.

I have made the mistake of showing off my powers out in public many times before, and I should be running to a different city, but I can't bring myself to do that. I love Brooklyn too much to just leave it behind like I had done with every other place. I've made a connection with this city, which was sentimental and weak of me, but I couldn't help myself. I can't just leave now.

Perhaps I should explain my powers. I have the ability to control all four elements: fire, water, air, and earth. It's both a curse and a blessing. More or less a curse than a blessing, though. My father put this in me when I was merely six years old back in 1907. He worked for a government department called the Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistic Division. SHIELD for short. That's where I'm thinking he got all of his special equipment and the idea of giving his only daughter immortality and powers. Such an idiot. And even though SHIELD was nothing but this kickoff idea that slowly went into effect, it seemed that my father was always a busy man and always caught up in government affairs.

This one time I went through some of his files when he was out of the house and I found something the department was working on. It was called the Avengers Initiative, and I was intended to be the first Avenger. I was supposed to be apart of a group of highly trained super heroes that would save the world whenever it was threatened. I think that was one of the main reasons why I ran. I didn't want any of that. The Avengers Initiative didn't seem entirely logical, given that there hasn't been a biologically enhanced being that I've ever met, so why would the government feel that gathering such people would help anything?

I run now from my father, SHIELD, the police, and anything that is new and could threaten my new lifestyle. I live in fear, I admit, but I would rather live in fear than give into their needs. They are selfish and I do not intend to give them the satisfaction they are seeking for.

I will not nor will I ever be an Avenger. I shall stay in hiding, where I belong.

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~ Mikayla (mikaylaTommo57) x

(Edited)