February 23rd. The day in Claira Dallan's life that things changed for good.
It was Claira's birthday, and she had just turned sixteen. Her mom had wrapped three gifts, which was more than usual. She normally had just got one, but her mom said these gifts were very important, so she was rather excited to see what she had received.
"Claira, love, it's time for presents!" Her mother had called from the kitchen. She raced from her small bedroom from the back of the house to the small kitchen in the front. She swiftly turned past the counter and slapped herself down at the head of the table, like the birthday girl always did in the Dallan household.
"Okay, unwrap them. I think you'll be pleasantly surprised." Her mother said, smiling. Claira ripped through to the first present. She pulled out something quite peculiar. A mask. an eye mask with eye-holes. it was black with black and white swirls littered over the face, like those things people use for hypnotization
"Momma, I don't want to seem rude, but... what is it for?" Claira asked, holding the mask in her palm on the table.
"Just open the other two, and you might understand more." her mother said. Claira hesitantly opened the next one. Again, she was very confused. It was an outfit. dull orange leggings, a black tank top, and a black and white striped cropped top with long sleeves.
"Mom, I just don't get it. How does this have anything to do with the mask? And you know that I don't wear crop tops." Claira was beyond confused at this point.
"Open the next one, love." Her mom said, seemingly ignoring her daughter's previous statement.
Claira slowly unwrapped the last present. It was a pair of black leather fingerless gloves and short white combat boots with purple laces.
"Now before you say something, just listen, okay?" Hecate Dallan placed a hand on her daughter's.
"This was all your grandmother's." Claira's mom continued, "It was her... superhero outfit. Now before you get even more confused, there is an explanation. She wanted to pass it down to me when I turned sixteen, but I refused, thinking that the whole situation was just some joke she was playing on me. I hid it all under my bed. When she died because of a... a villain that I had refused to stop, I vowed that I wouldn't let that happen to anyone else, but I put on the outfit, I was too big, and I was too old anyway. After that, no more villains ever showed up, so I didn't even need to put on that suit. But lately... the crime rate in Manhattan is increasing... and I'm scared that they're coming back. And I can't do it. I'm too old, and too big. So, I need you to do it. For this city. I need you to be their hero." Hecate finished.
Claira was silent, looking at her gifts. She thought for a moment, and then tightened her copper-colored hair in her ponytail. She looked at her mother, her determined brown eyes boring into her mothers. Her mouth slowly twisted into a smile.
"I'll do it. So... to be clear, what can I do?" Claira said. Her mother laughed in excitement.
"Well, the powers have been passed down in our family for generations. Your grandmother was not afraid of hers. I was afraid of using them, so I never could, even if I tried. But you're willing to, so it shouldn't be hard. You can create illusions and choose who you would like to trick. You can manipulate what they see or feel, and when you grow stronger, you can even control what they do. Your name, like all the others, is Illusion." Hecate spoke so fast, ecstatic at the information that Claira would become her hero.
Claira smiled solely to herself, thinking of all the good things she would do. She didn't know how hard it would be when monsters showed up to terrorize her city.
Hi! I'm Jane. I edited this chapter, and I did the best I could, but I'll admit, I'm not the best writer, and I do want to get better, so I appreciate constructive criticism, if you have any (which I'm sure you do) let me know. I'm sorry if I missed any mistakes while editing, If I did and you notice, feel free to let me know and I'll fix it. I want to make this story the best story you've read, which will be insanely hard, considering you've probably read stories ten times better than this, but therefore (I don't know if therefore is correct, but MS Word said it was, so there.) I want constructive criticism, so I can make this story exactly the way you would like.
I wrote the same story on Wattpad, so if you're on there and happen to stumble across this story, give it a vote and a comment or something like that idk how self-advertisement works
Love your severely lonely friend, Jane