Becoming Human (A Voltron Fanfic)

Identity

Alarms blared as she sprinted down the halls, clutching her bag tightly. She could hear people shouting behind her, yelling at her to stop. She smirked confidently and picked up her speed. They're getting slow, she said to herself. She rounded a corner, briefly running on the wall as to not lose momentum. As she approached an archway, a heavy metal door began closing from the top. In one fluid motion, she slid on the floor, slipping gracefully underneath the door just as it shut with a heavy thud. She stood and chuckled smugly to herself.

"Will they ever learn?" she said aloud, patting her bag of stolen goods.

Suddenly a strong pair of arms shoved and pinned her against the wall, causing her to drop the bag, the contents spilling onto the floor. She struggled against the strength of her male attacker, her slender frame not helping her combat. She attempted to kick her way out but her at fourteen years old, her legs were not strong enough to fend off a full grown man, who spun her around, binding her wrists to her back..

"Let me go!" she shouted, only now noticing his officer uniform.

"Not this time, you little brat," the man said, yanking her to walk in front of him. "This time, you're in big trouble."

She huffed as she was walked out of the building, the alarms finally subsiding. Outside, more officers were waiting. I guess they do learn, she thought to herself, observing the back-up. She was roughly shoved into the back of a police pod and it took off to an all-too-familiar location. She had been unofficially labeled as a juvenile delinquent. "Unofficial" because the charges were always dropped whenever she committed a crime, which was quite often. No one ever told her why, so she kept acting out, becoming very familiar with the police.

Her mother was already waiting at the station when they arrived. She looked worried and scared, but not mad. "Hey, mom," the girl mumbled when they walked in the door. She kept her head down, avoiding eye contact.

"Korrin, are you hurt?" her mother asked calmly. When her daughter shook her head, she breathed a sigh of relief. Looking at the officer, she nodded her head and they undid Korrin's cuffs.

"You can't just let that kid walk away from something like this! Again!" the one officer shouted.

The one in charge of her release held up a hand. "Trust me, it isn't worth all the trouble of keeping her. Yula is Korrin's mother; she can handle it."

"That's what you've been saying the past several times she's committed crimes like this!" the other officer raged. "How long are you willing to let this go on?"

Yula took Korrin by the arm and gently walked her daughter away from the police station and to the her small flight pod, leaving the men to their quarrels. The afternoon sun was beginning to set as the pod glided smoothly through traffic, neither of them saying a word until they reached home. It was a small and isolated house located in a rural part of the area. Quiet and lonely, the way Korrin liked it. Making friends had always been next to impossible for her. There had been several public incidences where the unexplained would happen: her glass cup would go flying across a restaurant and shatter against the far wall; she had even flipped a couple police vehicles. The worst was when she had been in school. The school bully was picking on her and had pushed her to the ground. She returned the gesture but instead of him falling, he went flying through the air, landing on the teacher's desk. He recovered, thankfully, but it was then that her mother decided to pull her from school. Now, people would often stare, and whisper comments when they think she couldn't hear them, calling her a "freak" or worse. When Korrin confronted her mother about what happened at the school, she would dodge the question and tell her she was just special, and no one could understand that. That was the reason she started acting out. She couldn't figure out why no one else wanted anything to do with her. Her confusion turned to frustration and frustration to anger.