Just spontaneously magicked this into existence. Just take it and enjoy it, hopefully.
In another one of the normal, generic suburbs of New York City, on another normal, generic street, atop the roof of a normal, generic house, a not so normal silhouette stood, looking to the horizon.
From afar, one can tell that this silhouette belongs to a short person, with hair cut just before the bangs. Any more is impossible to decipher - It was late at night, or rather, early morning, and the streetlight that should be casting light like all its brothers was broken.
Although, I'm not quite sure you could consider it broken. After all, it's absence of light was deliberate.
The short figure opened an oiled window, silently entering the room. This person easily found the switch for a desk lamp, and after a slight click, light flooded the room, it's energy bouncing off the surfaces of several objects and travelling straight to the eyes of Hit-Girl. These objects included a bed with purple sheets, a dresser to its right, as well as a closet and a door at the far wall, and a desk to the left, right in between the window and the bed.
Hit-Girl looked at herself in the mirror propped on the wall opposite to the desk. She wore a dominantly purple jacket and pants, a utility belt packed full of tools separating the two. On her toned shoulders hung a cape reaching to her upper thighs, and atop those shoulders were a mask covering the area around Hit-Girl's eyes and a purple wig, both of which she promptly threw off.
Mindy heaved a sigh as she sat on her bed, stretching legs that had spent the whole of the night walking, running, climbing, or executing much more complicated maneuvers. The reason for this physical exertion is complicated still, but Mindy didn't linger on the subject.
She replaced her dirty apparel for a more comfortable cloth, purple pyjamas, switched off the lamp, and slinked into bed, relief spreading through her body. Her mind, however, finally had time to think, and that it did.
This young girl has been through so much, it was abnormal to not be traumatized by all of it. But she wasn't. While Mindy thinks about all the deaths she's dealt, she never regretted a single one. It was more likely to see her smirk as she re-lived a particularly brutal execution of a man she found guilty. This in itself would be enough to have her classified insane, not to mention the fact that she executed them clad in a purple jumpsuit and cape.
If that wasn't enough, she had watched her father burn alive, whilst killing several men without remorse. That day, an emptiness had filled her. Mindy had lived her whole known life with that man, and found him capable of anything, but that day, she realized he wasn't invincible. And neither was she. Even that has yet to push her over the edge.
To this day, without fail, she's donned that mask and risked her life, time and time again, for the greater good. But she was unsure that's the reason she went out. Rather than a selfless vigilante, Hit-Girl was a sadistic psycho, cold heartedly killing people for her own pleasure. Hit-Girl was raised training to become the killer she was today, and she knew nothing but that.
She's strong, but she's also smart. That was probably the only reason she wasn't in a straight jacket. Yet.
But she couldn't take all the credit - there was one person that helped shoulder her burdens, her urges, her instincts, someone who supported her through everything. After her Daddy died, that man took over, and she trusted him almost as much as her father. She knew it was irrational, and that she shouldn't let him into her heart, that nothing but her feelings told her to open up to him, but she had. Because her feelings told her that he had nothing but good intentions for her. Now they were a team, and Mindy harboured a strong love for that man.
She wasn't yet sure what kind of love it was. But she knew it was there.
With these heavy thoughts weighing down her very existence, the demented killer Hit-Girl and Mindy Macready, the girl with a complicated childhood, both drifted into a dreamless sleep.
Anyone notice the amount of purple in her room? Apparently it's her favorite color. Who knew?
Anyways, there you have it. If you liked it, review. If you didn't like it, review. And answer me this: why would you not like this?
I can think of several reasons.
Have a great life. Who knows when I'll see you again.
