-1How You Live When There's Nothing Worth Living For
Lynn Ordali
It's surprising how mere moments can be so significant. In one moment, your enemies could finally find you. In two, your house could explode into fiery flames. In three, your family could be burned alive, their bodies transformed into mere ashes. And within four, your life could become a living hell.
Four seconds. That's all it takes. Four seconds to turn your life from bad to worse. And four seconds of heart wrenching pain takes over a lifetime to heal. And worse, I've tried to live through those bad moments in the deep, dark shadow of a fear: a fear that I will someday be consumed by that darkness that slumbers in me. A fear that soon I will have to face my personal demon; that foil of myself who seeks, over everything else, to lay my life and very existence to waste…
THE SCRATCHING of the pen in his journal ceased as the slim faced boy of 15 stared up at the sky, which at this point was greyer than his hair. Not the best weather conditions for your typical nomad, and he frowned as he tightened the bandages on his left arm and right leg. He pulled a "missing" poster off the alleyway wall to his left. It had his picture on it, and beneath his worn and tired profile, bold letters spelled out the name that the first reporter on his story had given him: Blaze. Mere weeks later he had been taken to an asylum, and a research one at that. Blaze had forgotten his real name through all the hypnosis therapies the crackpot scientists had submitted him to…He folded and tucked the poster into his journal, then shut the leather bound book. Reaching down with the key that hung on a cord around his neck, he locked it swiftly and placed it gingerly into a drawstring bag. Thunderclouds loomed overhead, and the moisture in the air was so thick that he could have held up a glass for a drink. He looked over at his 'house' aka a large cardboard box, only to see that some jerk had flattened it. Everyone in the alley-way community of Jump City knew him: con artists, thieves, drug junkies, beggars…he had had a run in with every one of them; whether it was good or bad depended on the person. Apparently, someone had been a little miffed at him; probably was one of the several people he had put in jail.
Rain started to fall softly from the sky, and he ran down the road towards the bay, knowing it would only get worse as time progressed. He was well in sight of the cliff, yet his pace did not slow. There, about 700 feet of cold sea water away, lay a small island. However, as his older brother had always said, "Do not judge anything by size; the strongest are the most unexpected." In fact, it had been one of the last things Blaze had heard him say before the accident…as he reached the cliff, he ran straight over it, the determination to reach the island flowing as heat through his body and to his feet. The heat expelled itself from the soles of his shoes in a most unusual manner, not that the shoes themselves were common. They bore a strong resemblance to a pair of dark brown Ugg boots which his tattered hemmed jeans covered, but had strangely crafted metal soles. The insides were plated with a thin lair of metal as well, and it was only his thin socks that kept him comfortable. Anyway, the heat from his feet shot from the bottom of his shoes and jetted out in a burst of flame hotter than Krypton's sun that not even the light rain could extinguish. The moist air molecules easily stiffened from the extreme heat and gave the appearance of flight. It was in this way that Blaze began his traverse to Titans Tower.
THE DARK HAIRED, minded, and clothed girl sat with her legs crossed in a common meditation position. This normality was shattered by the fact that she was gently levitating three feet above the floor. Through meditation, she was connected to everyone and everything on the planet: their joys & their pain were as real as hers. However, her inner darkness forced constant vigilance over her own emotions. Even with the power of foresight, the girl named Raven never could have envisioned what would happen next.
"Azarath…Metrion…Zin-ah!" pain like lightning lanced through her, knocking her to the floor. Almost simultaneous with her painful cry, four teenagers arrived in the large living room of the Tower as if on cue. First, a biotech colossus named Victor Stone, aka Cyborg, ran into the room; his heavy footfalls resounding throughout the Tower. Next a panther bounded in. Although it bore the appearance of any other panther, this one was a deep green instead of black. As it morphed into a human-esque form, Garfield Logan, more commonly known as Beast Boy, wore the least serious look of the group. Third flew in a red haired girl, Koriand'r of Tamaran, called Starfire by the masses. The leader of the Teen Titans, Dick Grayson; the third Robin to bear the title.
"Trouble?" The latter asked as Starfire helped Raven up.
"I'm not sure." she said, "But whatever it is, it's coming."
Blaze touched down on the now soaked ground, his knees barely strong enough to stand. His left arm was throbbing with pain. Nonetheless, he reached up and, with a clenched fist that made his knuckles shine white through his skin, banged on the pair of iron doors three times. The doors slid open after a few breathless moments and he found himself staring into five pairs of eyes: one pair shocked, one concerned, one impassive, one glowing half red, and one interested. Blaze stood as straight as his pain would allow and murmured the only words of imploring he knew:
"Please…help me…" he said, his voice faltering as his knees crumpled and he fell to the muddy ground. The last image he saw before he lost consciousness was five faces standing around him, and one metal arm reaching to lift him and carry him inside.
TO BE CONTINUED…