Once upon a time

It happened on a friday. I just finished eating lunch. Rice and fish. The frying pan still next to the sink, eager for me to do the wash-up (not that I would do that anywhere within the next three hours).

Eager for a distraction I went into the living room. I skimmed over the titles of my favourite books before I settled down on the blue back of one of my favourites. Taking it into my hand I walked over to the corner of the room. There was an alcove-like niche, full with a mattress in the form of a quarter circle. It was the perfect place to read and forget about the world and the fact that I was trapped.

Trapped in an appartment that was neither small nor luxurious. Trapped in an appartment that I could only leave three times a week to go into another enclosed room full of sport equipment, wich, I guess, was suppodsed to even out my limited moving space.

Trapped by the very people that somehow managed to erase my entire family except me from the face of the earth. That tried to kill me. Trapped by the people the world celebrates as heroes.

Trapped by the Avengers.

I opened my book and read the familiar letters, quickly diving into stories I already knew.

A few chapters in I suddenly heard a loud thud. Instantly alarmed I jumped up, crossed the half of the living room with the books and took a halt at the doorframe, from where I could see across the hallway- and froze, mucles tensing up, and took in the scene through the glass front door.

Oh I am so dead.

There was a tall man in the hallway in front of my appartment. he was broad and his entire being reeked of aggression. His dark hair went down to his shoulders and he wore completely black clothing, leather probably. I couldn't make out most of his face due to the black muzzle that covered everything from his nose down, but even from my spot, more than eight meters away, I could see the piercing blue of his eyes.

For a small moment we just looked at each other, his dead stare send shivers down my back. Not the good kind, the 'oh crap- there's absolutely nothing I can do to survive this madness'- kind. Despite from the fact that he was a grown adult and i was a child, he also was fit and had a scaring amount of dangerous stuff on his body. He moved his left arm and now I realized it was covered in, or made of something completely silver. It had a big red star on his upper arm and consusted of many little plates that seemed to constantly shift with his movements.

My thoughts raced. Red stars. What does a red star mean? Turkey - no, that was a white star on a red ground.

North korea, maybe? Something inside me said no. He didn't look very north korean, or any koream at all. Then an old memory from a history essay popped up- the red army. Didn't they use red stars in the second world war?

My thoughts were interrupted by another loud thud. The man had tried to kick the door open. It didn't work.

Of course it didn't work. It hadn't the past three years that I was here and tried to get out, so it made no sense that he even bothered to try.

The man looked up again and determination flooded his eyes. it impressed me, that although I could barely make out his features, I was able to distinguish between his moods so easily. He then swung his arm back and let it crash into the glass. Little cracks appeared.

Oh, nonono. There shouldn't be cracks.

I tried to escape this hell a total of 107 times. I tried cutting the glass, the lock the frame, hell, even the wood around the frame. I threw about every heavy objekt I could find against the transparent little shit. In a rush of blind anger i even flung my own body at the door and it never did as much as shudder.