The day that my worst fears were realized started off just like any other. I woke up, got dressed, and headed out into the city to go to class. An early riser, I usually managed to avoid my mother and the guilt that I harbored for her condition. Yet, if I had known what was awaiting me, I would never have left the house.
It was a typical Tuesday, and while today just happened to be my birthday, I lost the right to celebrate a long time ago. How could I be happy after what I had done? What right did I have to being anything other than regretful and repentant? My mother should have the love of her life beside her when she woke up, yet I had taken all of those future mornings away from her.
With tears threatening to overwhelm me, I did my best to repress the knowledge that I was going to be alone for another birthday. There would be no party, no joy this year or any year to come. I just wanted to get through the day without anything bad happening. With what I have done, I don't deserve to have anything nice. All I could hope for was that my life would continue on without ruinning anyone else's future.
On my way to school, I couldn't escape this weird feeling that something wasn't quite right. Yet, try as I might, I for the life of me couldn't figure out what it was about. While my powers didn't come with any sort of sixth sense, I wasn't oblivious. Something wasn't right. This was more than just a carry over from a bad dream. I was sure of it.
Scientists have long since proven that animals have an innate ability to sense danger. Currently at Olive University in Quil City there were a group of profesors that were trying to prove that the altered gene that gave many superheros their powers is actually the same one that controls the level of sensitivity to danger found in animals. Whether their research bears any fruit, was anyone's guess at this point. Regardless, I had a feeling that this gut instinct was correct. With the intensity that my mind was feeling danger there was no way that this was just a fluke.
Luckily for me, the world didn't immediately explode into chaos around my general vicinity every time that I walked out of my house. Though I couldn't help but wince whenever another hero would go rushing by going about their daily business. If they only knew that the greatest threat to their beloved metropolis was the scrawny little girl walking down the street things would never be the same. Yet despite how close I was to insta-death I made it to school unmolested.
Making it to my seat with plenty of time to spare before class was set to start, I couldn't help but sigh in despair. While I couldn't figure out what was wrong, my senses were tingling off the charts. It was almost a relief when Mr. Dancer got approached the front of class to begin his lecture which was saying quite a lot.
Out of all the teachers at Thadeous Connell Middle School he was known simultanously as the strictest and boringest instructor for a student to be stuck with. With my complete and utter misfortune, I had not only been stuck with him in my first year, but he had also been assigned as my homeroom teacher which meant that I had to spent double the amount of time with him than your average student. By the time that the first hour with the Professor of Pain, as my classmates called him, ended one would be willing to submit to any sort of physical torture to avoid the second.
Deep in thought about what was going on with my mind, I lost interest in his montoned droning after barely five minutes. I mean how could anyone focus on the differences between a legislative power and an executive order when there were more pressing matters at hand? My mental radar was blowing up and I couldn't figure out why. Something dangerous was coming and I didn't know what.
"Miss Carson will you be joining us today?" said Professor of Pain asked me. His annoyed voice dragged me from the deep contemplation that my mind had sunk to. I was so stuck within my own mind that I hadn't even seen him approach.
Embarassed that I had lost control, I gave him a sheepish look. "Yes, Mr. Dancer. Sorry, about that..." my words trailed of as I met his furious gaze and realized that there was no way that I was getting out of this unscathed.
"You can be sorry when you are done with life, Miss Carson. This world is not a nice one. It will chew you up and spit you out if you aren't careful. Try to be more aware of your surroundings."
"Yes, sir. I will do that." My reaction was obviously not what he was expecting. Whether my tone of voice came off slightly sarcastic, or he was just in a bad mood, I don't think I will ever know. But the next thing that I knew, I had a very ticked off teacher six inches away from my face.
"Do you think this is amusing, Miss Carson? If you find matters of life and death to be appealing, perhaps you should try to pass your hero exam. Perhaps you think that as soon as you find out what amazing new ability you will have when you grow up you won't need something so mudane as school. Do you think that this class is beneath you?"
"No, sir. I don't." My face could not get a deeper shade of red. At this moment I couldn't help but with that I was somewhere, anywhere else but here. If not for years of self-restraint, I might have accidently triggered my curse on my furious but innocent teacher.
"Of course you don't. Why ever would you think that?" Mr. Dancer said with a sarcastic tone of his own. "Fine, whatever. It is your loss if you fail this class and end up as one of those basement dwelling psychopaths." By his off hand comment, it was clear that he didn't think I had much of a future outside of the cold, unwelcoming path of a supervillian.
If only you knew how hard I am concentrating on keeping tragedy away right now, Mr. Dancer. You wouldn't be so quick to judge me if you knew what I was going through.
"I will do better, I promise" I said instead of what I really wanted to say to him. The struggle deep within me made it so that it was all I could do to hold back.
"Perhaps you will live up to your promise, perhaps you won't, only time will tell. But until that time, I expect you to at the very least pay attention. Who knows, you might even learn a lesson."
Fully embarassed by my mistake, I hung my head in shame. My pencil started taking notes at a million miles a second to try and show him that I was serious about learning. I could tell from the way that he was walking toward the board with a sense of foreboding doom that he was about to erase the information that would most likely make its way into the next surpise pop quiz.
Somehow, I managed to get most of the essay on the quantitiatvie differences between a capitol and a capital building in post modern Superian society before he reached the eraser. Famously long winded, Mr. Dancer was very clear when it came to his assessments. Anything that he felt important enough to place on the board was fair game for a quiz or test. He had told us at the beginning of the school year that he wouldn't waste our time on memorizing useless information but in exchange he expected us to keep copious notes on what he covered.
Since I had been caught red-handed breaking said agreement it was only a matter of time before he punished the class with a pop quiz on said material though. I could feel the death glares of my fellow classmates on the back of my neck. How dare I cause them more heartache? Now we would all have to study for hours to make sure that our grades didn't suffer from my indisression.
With my entire class resenting my very existance, I was momentarily freed from my fear that something was about to go horribly wrong. After all, this could hardly be considered a victory. Perhaps this is what the feeling was trying to warn me about and like some self-fulfilling prophecy, I had walked right into it this time.
With an explanatinon for what had been bugging me all morning I found my groove and got back into Mr. Dancer's lecture. While the topic wasn't exactly the most exhilarating in the world, right now boring was perfectly acceptable. Sometimes boring is exactely what the doctor orderd.
When the final bell rang setting me free, I bolted. There was nothing good that could come from sticking around. With my next class in five minutes, I didn't want to spend the inturlude in a room full of furious classmates. I would rather withstand the shame of being the last one in my seat than feel the tension boiling out of this room or hear the intentionally not quiet enough whispers of nasty disapproval for being caught.
Storming out of the classroom, I didn't care what anyone thought of me. I was going through much more than any of them could ever imagine. If they were mad about their ruined afterschool extracuriculars they could just shove it. I never asked for any of this. They could afford to miss one karoke session or late night hang out. A bit of responsiblilty wouldn't kill them.
Yes, I do appreciate the irony of those statements, but as I was currently embarassed beyond words, i wasn't thinking as clearly as I could. Speaking of irony, it was exactly because I left the room when I did that what was supposed to be a normal day would become anything but...