The Team Of Ten

Part Three

The chime of the small bell sounded as the girl walked through and let it shut behind her. The door lead to a small room with small trinkets, charms, books, cards, figurines, and a smoky atmosphere. Red carpet lined the floor, plush cushioned seats, cloth laid over tables with candles placed in bowls and glass cups lit the dusty store. 

A doorway was blocked off by beads hanging down making a kind-of door. Behind that door is an even smaller room with a huge circular table with a crystal ball in the center on top of a purple cloth. But at the back is a stairway leading up to the second floor. 

The second floor is a small apartment with two beds, one of which is a futon for a couch as well, a fridge, stove, about three things of counter space, and a small TV. 

The girl wasn't a customer of this small physic shop, no she was the daughter of the woman who owned the small building. Her frizzy cinnamon colored hair shook as she tried to get all the rain out of her curls. Golden eyes searched the small room for signs that her mother was up and about. Her hands ran lightly over the back of one of the chairs in the main room as she took her scarf off followed by her coat. She caught a glimpse of her caramel skin in one of the many mirrors in the back room as she passed it on her way upstairs. 

Creaking of stairs was the only sound in the stuffy apartment as she made her way up. She placed her bag, a purple one-strap book bag that she had found in a Goodwill, by the door and made her way to the fridge. A post-it note stuck to the door of the fridge told her that her mother wouldn't be home that night. 

The girl bit her lip as she crumbled the note in one hand and opened the fridge with her other. A second later she was warming up a can of soup in a pot on the stove, the can had been in the cabinet but it was less work than trying to make something from what was in the fridge. 

With a bowl of it she sat down on the futon and turned on the TV. News about another string of burglaries was the top story that night. The girl grit her teeth as she heard the death toll, this was her city, how dare these people make Supers out to be blood thirsty Villains. 

The calling card of the Jaguars was even clawed into the side of the banks. 

The girl slammed her bowl down on the counter as the news caster's voice echoed in her ears. 

How could people do this? She had enough trouble with people knowing who her mother was, the thought of registering and dealing with everything that would mean . . . The girl pushed her hair back from her face as she walked to the bathroom. 

With a splash of cold water her thoughts cleared slightly. How could she help? How could she get the city back from those . . . Villains? 

The girl held her hand up to her face, how could her power help against people wanting to do harm? She moved her fingers slightly and a blue stone flew to her hand from the bag she had put by the door. One sapphire that she always used to practice. 

This girl could call precious metals and jewels from the ground, from others, from anywhere. Her mother always used the girl's power to buy things, but never enough to get caught. Her mother would spend the money on spirit things, booze, and men. Oh her mother was usually gone at nights, not that she was complaining about that. 

The girl set her alarm before setting up the futon for her to sleep on. She had school in the morning and an AP Chemistry test. But she looked at the wall, at the whip hung up by a picture of a horse. The girl had always loved horses, had learned how to use a whip while training and a lasso. 

She ran her fingers over the handle, her name was engraved in the braided leather. "Hazel." 

The girl shook her head, no she couldn't do anything. The glint of her sapphire caught her eyes, she tossed it up and caught it, that would hurt to be hit with if it went fast enough . . .