Disclaimer: I don't own Sky High.

WARNING: This chapter contains the suggestion of rape. If you are not comfortable reading it, then please don't.

It was sunny that day.

Ivy shut her eyes and tried to forget what the sun looked like. It was too painful to remember the sun.

It was sunny that day.

Ivy's head suddenly exploded with a rush of images and an unwelcomed groan escaped her throat. They were memories, made hazy by time, but memories all the same; a cloud in the shape of a rabbit; three cracks in the pavement; the school bus, like a safe haven to her now, disappearing over the hill.

And suddenly, she was there again.

It had been quite the average Tuesday. As she walked back to her house from the bus stop, Ivy was, as always, left to revel at the amount of mediocrity she had put forth into her schoolwork that day. This always seemed to leave her slightly frustrated with not only her classes, but with herself, and she couldn't seem to escape her unwarranted feelings of insecurity because of it. Ivy was smart, and she knew it; however, her lackluster performances in the classroom had led her peers to believe otherwise, and this had left Ivy feeling quite badly about herself. She didn't know how much longer she could continue to surround herself with classmates who found her less than intelligent.

She sighed when she realized the route her mind had taken, and immediately attempted to rid herself of the thought altogether; she didn't want to dwell on things she couldn't change, and she wasn't about to go around feeling grim because of them.

It was then that she heard the faint echo of footsteps trailing slowly behind her. At first, Ivy brushed off the notion of someone following her, carelessly assuming it was her own footsteps she heard; but as they quickened in pace, so did Ivy's heart. She saw the faint light blue of her house peering out from behind some neatly trimmed hedges about two blocks ahead of her and sped up a little.

"Hey," a man suddenly called out.

Ivy thought about making a quick dash toward the house but stopped; she hesitated for a split second then turned around.

"Hm?" she said, trying to look surprised.

She took this little window of opportunity to observe the man who had been following her.

He was young, maybe 26, and he was tall, with short sandy hair and a spattering of freckles across his cheeks. Ivy noted that he was wearing a cardigan sweater, even though it was uncharacteristically hot for a Tuesday in September.

"You dropped this," he said, smiling. "I thought you might have heard me following you and turned around. Sorry if I scared you."

Ivy looked down at his extended arms and felt the strangest rush of relief. Cupped inside of his hands was a golden chain. She touched her neck and felt nothing but smooth skin.

"Oh," she said, feeling silly. She took the necklace gratefully. "Thank you," she continued. "It must have fallen off when I got off my bus."

"It's no problem," said the man, continuing to smile.

Ivy felt silly. This man was nice. She forgot why she had felt scared in the first place. After all, it was a Tuesday afternoon, and it was sunny. She had nothing to worry about.

And it happened so quickly, it might not have happened at all.

Ivy looked up and saw the nice man standing before her and he didn't look so nice. She saw him pull the reflective piece of metal out of his pocket; and then she understood.

"Don't scream," he said.

Ivy felt a set of rough and calloused hands grab her wrist with such unnecessary force that she let out a small cry of pain; she felt herself being dragged into a nearby hydrangea bush; she felt her shirt being torn; she felt the cool breeze against her bare skin; she felt the bile rise up in her throat; she felt the tears sting her eyes; she felt the stab of the knife against her breast, and just as the man was about to enter her, she felt something else.

The oddest feeling of happiness washed over her. For a moment, Ivy felt completely whole, the way she had always wanted to feel; and then, she felt her hands grow warm, and she heard the man cry out, and she looked at him, and he looked at her, and she watched as he fell to the ground, twitching and writhing in pain.

And then—

Ivy opened her eyes. She did not want to remember anymore.

She did not want to remember the day she became someone else, the day that changed her life forever.

The day she got her powers.