unDone - unOrdinary Fanfiction book 1

Prologue: unDeath

It was never going to make me sane. I had just hoped that writing down my first really traumatic memory would help. At least some of the pain was going to go away. Gods help us all. What have I done?

Johnathan Anthony Doe's PoV
Random Street, New Bostin, Texas, CSA
16:27:49.15, 5/13/2221

Me and my sister, Josephine, were walking down the street together. My twin was happy, despite neither of us having an ability, and our mom being absent, we were happy. I had her, she had me. Our dad, William, was happy with us, despite others trying to push him around. He was happy, even missing the love of his life, Jane. Whenever we asked, he would tell us about how "she was in a far away place". He didn't know where she was, or even if she was alive. Despite this, he always told us he was happy with us.

Losing myself in thought, I almost didn't notice her screaming.

A bunch of older teens had ambushed us. They looked about 17, we were just eleven. What do they want from us? They had Josephine up against the wall. She was afraid, and the teens had lecherous grins on their faces. I was too young to understand what they actually wanted in that moment, but I knew it wasn't good. I will not let you take her away from me! I thought as I charged at them, despite knowing that I would do absolutely jackshit against them, and their abilities.

"Oh? You want in on the fun? You could have just said so!" One of the bullies had asked me. Undeterred, I had kept up my advance, hoping my own body would be enough. It was not.

I had to watch, helplessly as they stripped her naked, raped her, and knocked her unconscious. I had been beaten half to death by that point, but just enough that I could keep consciousness.

"Stupid cripple." I had never understood that word before. more of the kids had come to finish their job with me. I was on the ground. Why is this universe so cruel? I had wondered as my consciousness faded.

I had woken up in . . . what looked like a hospital. I was on life support. What happened . . . ? My memories came back to me. I started to breath heavily, my surroundings swam. I managed to get out a "Is she okay?" My voice was scratchy, and husky.

They told me to breath. They put their hand on my hand. My breathing slowed enough for me to hear them say "Physically, she is okay." Only physically?

What was left unsaid was the trauma that she would suffer through as nightmares every single night. It was fucking awful to deal with. But I hoped I could be there for her. I would later learn that I was only exacerbating the issues she already dealt with. That they were one of the reasons she was ready to . . . move on.

This wasn't my first time in a hospital, by any means, but it certainly was one of the worst ones. Mainly because instead of me, it was my twin. While these doctors had abilities, they still had their Hippocratic Oath forsworn, and unfortunately, had lots of work on their hands.

I didn't notice how much pain I was in until I drifted out of my panic. My throat had hurt, like it was dehydrated, and crushed. My ribs felt like they were tearing apart my insides. My arms felt like they were burning, despite them being cold from lack of blood flow. My head hurt like a motherfucker. I didn't have long until I was unconscious.

When I woke, I was feeling much better. But Josephine wouldn't talk to me.

We used to be inseparable, but this was too traumatic for her. I ended up swearing to every power I could think of that I would make those rapists pay for their crimes.

Jonathan Anthony Doe's PoV
Josephine's Shelter, New Bostin, Texas, CSA
13:53:38.81, 05/20/2221

Josephine had decided to run away from us for reasons I still do not know, but have guessed. I had managed to trace her tears to her shelter—this was kind of sad when you thought about it—but I didn't hear her. This was concerning already, as I had been worried that something else happened to her. Nothing could have prepared me for what I found in her makeshift shelter of cardboard and plastic.