Author's Note: Hey guys! This is BreeBree12345 with another chapter of, "Process the Progress." So the beginning of this chapter is a flashback, giving us a little insight of Static Bomb's life before prison. It's is pretty much going to show you a little about her childhood, up to the events where she was thrown in a cell.
Ok, let's get this party started!
December 20, 2012; 11:57 pm.
"Hey dad?"
Silence.
"Dad? You home?"
Sighing, I put down my neon orange back pack before heading towards the staircase.
"I'm home! I actually made it back by curfew!" I waited for a moment, but after not receiving an answer, I shrugged and dropped myself onto the couch. "Stupid curfew. I'm eighteen years old, for crying out loud." I mumbled, my eyebrow twitching in annoyance.
I feel stupid for not realizing that something was wrong sooner. My 'father' never left our home, choosing instead to work on experiments he never let me see. Except for one. A… pill. Something that my younger mind overlooked, and saw as a useless pain medication. How wrong I was.
Grabbing the remote, I switched the television on before relaxing into my seat.
Ugh. MouseKat.
Why anyone would watch those, I have no flippin' clue.
MouseKat. MouseKat. Fact News. MouseKat.
"What's with all the Mouskat episodes?" I sighed, and looked at the clock.
11:59 pm.
Weird. Dad's never out this late. Scratch that, he never leaves the house. Ever.
I shrugged, settling myself deeper into the couch, closing my green eyes slowly.
I shifted, trying to make myself comfortable, when a large tremor caused me to fall off the couch.
"What the hell was that?" I shouted, jumping to my feet and looking out the window.
The once pitch black sky was now an eerie red; the ground shook underneath my feet, causing me to stumble. Large explosions could be heard, though I could tell they were a few miles away.
"Stay away from the window, Aurora."
Whipping around, I rushed towards my father, "Dad! What's going on?"
He held out a hand to stop me before sitting me down on the couch, "We are safe here. The bomb's effect will not reach here."
The color drained from my face, "Bombs? What bombs? Dad, what the HELL is going on out there?"
He tilted his head, searching for a way to answer my question, "A… revolution, Aurora. A revolution."
If only that was all it was.
"A…revolution, dad?" My voice shook as I forced the question out, looking at him fearfully.
He smiled. It wasn't the small grin that always made me feel safe and warn as a child.
No. No, this one was different. It was cold, cruel almost.
"Yes, my dear. Soon, we will be living in a world without violence. But of course," he paused glancing at the window across the room, "Things must first get worse, before we can hope for a better, brighter tomorrow. After all, the aftermath is secondary."
I hesitated, before forcing myself to relax. It proved a futile effort, as every explosion made my hands shake, my eyes to shift nervously, and my back to straighten painfully. This wasn't right. This was murder!
I tried my best to look at the man I called a father. But, he would never look the same to me, not in my eyes.
"You understand, right dear? The world is filled with filth, and soon, everything will be… normal." I shook a little. That definitely had a double-meaning.
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I shakily sighed, "Of course, dad. After all, the night is darkest just before the dawn."
He smiled gleefully, putting an arm around me tightly. "I knew you would, darling."
I knew I would never be the same. This man wasn't my father, and the world would, no doubt, never be the same. It was something I quickly realized, and accepted. However, I knew I would never accept this new 'society'. I would take no part of it. I made a promise to myself and all those who had died that day. Whatever this better tomorrow was…
It was a few hours before I fell into a fitful sleep, my mind filled with nightmares. Every once in a while, my eyes would snap open, and I'd see my father grinning, his cruel gaze locked on the window.
I would fight it until I took my last breath. Of this, I swear.
I looked at myself in the glass coffee table. I didn't like this feeling. This one of… grief, anger, pain, and defeat. I felt so helpless.
All those people. Men, women, children. All dead.
My reflection scowled, my eyes alight with a fire I've seen in every true killjoy; The ones with the determination to keep on living, even if it meant walking this world alone. The fire that would push me and so many others to the very edge of death and back. The fire that refused to be put out, to be stepped on, or to live as someone else's puppet.
I was, am, and forever will be…
A killjoy.
I grinned at my reflection, whispering under my breath, "Killjoys, make some noise."
Hey, guys! What do you think? Idk about you guys, but I'm kind of proud of this chapter!
By the way, If you caught the 'Famous Last Words' and 'The Dark Knight' reference, I applaud you my fellow MCR nerds! APPLAUD YOU! Aha! Oh and the 'Look Alive Sunshine' reference. Can't forget that one!
Read and review? Or…don't, I guess. Thank you for reading!
-Breebree12345
