1. Breaking
Natasha's first memory would always be of glass.
She doesn't even know how old she is; she is sitting in a car, with her mother, on the way to a gala.
Or so she thinks, later.
Still- she's dressed in warm furs, and is dolled up prettily, and then something jerks, and her mother shrieks something into the night air, and the world explodes into red-blue-white-white-white.
Crews scatter around her, taking no heed of the child who has survived miraculously, and she stumbles to her knees beside the wreckage of the car. Red soaks her vision; a head wound is bleeding profusely. But she still gathers, painstakingly carefully, the glittering cubes of glass from the side of the car.
(Her mother had told her, once, to hold onto the prettiness of life.)
They're tucked away in her undercoat's pocket, little pieces that come together to form a glamorous whole.
She doesn't know the man who takes her away, but he shakes her slightly and the glass tinkles down against the concrete of the road like a waterfall.
They gleam diamond-bright in the darkness.
Will be updated once a day for a full week. This one is actually compatible with another of my Avengers stories- Wings of Angels.
Reviews inspire me!
-Dialux