Chapter 2: "Two Idiots"

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Disclaimer: There is mention of cutting in the chapter. I'm not trying to offend anyone or romanticize cutting. I just want to warn you.

"Go to hell." 

"It's a shame. Your power was beautiful." The man appeared behind her mother and stabbed her in the throat. She fell, the blood spurting out like a hose. She could tell her siblings were going to cry.

"Hey guys, go." Ali shoved them away. "I'll distract them."

"We're not leaving you here!" The girl stood defiantly.

"Go!" Ali snapped before walking in front of the view of the group. She turned to face the group.

"Donald." The man at the door turned to face the man in the weird helmet. "Take them." He nodded and began walking, the clang noise coming from his metal limbs. Ali began breathing heavily. Her mother was dead and she was going to die.

The shield formed and she pushed it forward, throwing them back a few feet. Her siblings took the chance and began to run. The man with the metal arm got up as fast as she had knocked him down. He drew a knife with a cruel smile. Ali began taking deep breaths to calm herself down. Just breathe, that's what Mom used to say. She looked back up to face the man staring at her like.. like a psycho. Fuck Mom then. Ali turned and began to run. Her power was drained.

"Not so fast, you little bitch!" The man yelled, pounding behind her. Within a few seconds he grabbed and pinned her to the floor. "I think it's time someone taught you manners!" He plunged the knife into her side.

She screamed, screamed at the blood seeping into her white shirt. The man pinned her arm down and began making a series of cuts through her skin, each seared in her skin. The pain was hot, unbearably long. 

"Leave my sister alone!!" 

Ali gasped, pushing herself forward. Her heartbeat was racing, widely beating. Her breaths came out in short puffs, and she began taking slow, deep breath. 

In. And then out, darling. In. Out.

"In." Ali mumbled, "And out." Sighing, she pulled her feet off the bed and placed them on the floor.

Making sure that no one could hear her, she walked to the bathroom. She grabbed her bag and searched it for a change of clothes. Thankfully, she had some clothes, but it was her last pair. She had to burn her current clothes because she was caught wearing them. And her shoes. Her combat boots were some of her most prized possessions and it would be hard to let go. She stripped and took a two-minute shower, reveling in the warm water wiping away the past few days' harshness. She rinsed the tattoo on her arm, of three birds. She then saw the thin scars on her wrist. A reminder of what she had been through. She then saw the scars on her left arm, thin lines in a row going up. She grabbed her metal bracelet, the one with razor wire, and added another, savoring the feel of the blood.

She stepped out and dried herself with a small towel that she had stolen from a store a few days back. She pulled out the change of clothes. An overshirt, tank top and ripped jeans shorts. Great. Hopefully, no one would be an ass about her outfit. She quickly changed, drying her hair quickly, and ran her fingers through her hair in an effort to make it flat.  She quickly put her hair up in a ponytail before throwing her clothes away. She grabbed her stuff and opened the window to sneak away.

She ended up paying for a sandwich from a gas station against her better judgement. Stupid guilt over shoplifting her meals for the past six months. She probably owed like 5 grand by now. Well, they didn't notice or care. The girl rode through town on the bike, looking for a payphone. She needed to make a call to get out of the state fast and try to stay out of site preferably. That is, if the mafia hadn't convinced all her contacts that she would turn them into the cops.

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