My room, in short, was just that, short. Call it what you will, small not very big, pantry like, but to sum it all up, it was not big enough for me. I wasn't really growing, the scientist said something about the cloning process had flaws; these 'flaws' were basically making me young forever. I guess that's a pretty awesome flaw. Except, it meant I wouldn't get taller. I was stuck at my fourteen year old, five foot eleven figure. Good thing I was tall.
Guess I shouldn't be complaining, I mean after all, I wouldn't get wrinkles and such right? I sighed as I sat down on my bed that took up half the room, it was a twin bed, and it literally took up half the room. Yeah, wasn't kidding about my room being small. Then, one fourth of the room was taken up by the very small wardrobe that contained several of the same outfits. Black shoes, black pants, red long sleeve shirts with the S symbol, and black sleeveless hoodie. The last little one fourth of the room was walking space to the door.
I felt like I was living in a pantry. I wished I had a bigger room, I mean, I know we have some empty rooms here that are about three times bigger than this. Guess they just didn't care about my living conditions. The small part of my brain that was free of their control wanted to leave.
"Leave?" I asked myself out loud, "Where would I go?"
Doesn't matter; go to Star City, Gotham City, Metropolis, even Small Ville for all I care, we need to get out of here, before they have us killed! Said that little voice.
The rest of my brain shoved that thought away, and I groaned, rubbing my head. When I had gotten back to the facility, Dr. Carter was angry, not with me, but with his boss, something about me not making enough progress. So he took it out on me, screaming at me and saying I wasn't good enough, that I had failed at being the perfect weapon.
Then he had just sent me to my room, and I was trying hard not to cry. Emotions were spilling out of that small part of my mind. I curled up into a ball, hugging my knees to my chest. I was a failure, I was made to be used against the Justice League, and I wasn't a real person. I was just a bad copy of a real person. I had no right to live this stole life. I looked down at my hands, these hands; they were the hands of a clone. That's all I was, a clone. Why was I created? To be a weapon to take over the world. That's the real reason. They might tell me that I was a precaution incase Super Man or Super Boy went rouge or a replacement if one of them died, but I knew the truth. I was a weapon that was created to help them rule the entire world.
I sobbed quietly, giving into the small emotion in the back of my head, and just cried. Then, after a few minutes, I heard the little voice again you wanna be your own person? Then defy them! Let them know you're in charge! Just do something crazy, just because you can, and make sure they know not to mess with you! You're the clone of Super Boy for crying out loud! So stop acting like a loser, and start acting like a Super! (Really cheesy line!)
I stood up, and walked out of the cupboard they called my room, and down the hall, and to the teleporter, and turned it on, and then wound up in the bad side of town. I didn't care, I was nearly indestructible. I wasn't afraid of a bullet or a knife wielded by a petty thug.
I walked down the street, fire in my eyes and lightning in my sole. My shades on and hoodie zipped up nice and tight. I had walked down several streets, when I tried to cross the street. I nearly got run over. I jumped at the lat minute, and hit my head on the concrete hard. I groaned, rubbing it, and I heard someone ask, "You OK?"
I looked up into a heavily pierced up face, with a green mow hawk. I couldn't help but widen my eyes, when I saw how many ears piercing she had. She also had a nose ring on her right nostril, and snake bite lip piercings. She held out a hand, and I took it, and dumbly asked, "What happened?"
"You had to jump out of the way of a truck, do you walk much weirdo?" She asked, laughing.
I frowned, "I walk a lot, and I've walked every day of my life! And my name isn't weirdo, it's... SB2." It was true, since I was a clone, I had pretty much been born at fourteen. Fourteen years olds aren't toddlers, they walk.
She laughed harder, probably thinking the name was a joke, "You, you're alright." She said, "My name's Valiant, and you are my new friend. Come on, my friends are having an alley party."
She took my hand and pulled me along with her, and then looked at my feet, and laughed, "But maybe we should get you some shoes first."
I looked down at my shoes, just plain black leather shoes, no laces, and since my pant legs covered the top half, you couldn't tell if they were boots or sneakers, and I liked them. "What's wrong with them?"
She smiled, "Listen, my friends and I, if you haven't guessed, yeah, we're big supporters of the whole 'stand out in the crowd' idea. Why do you think I have my hair and clothes like this?" I looked at her clothes; they did stand out a lot. Her outfit was a green corset, black skinny jeans that looked like they were leather, but probably weren't, and old, beat up, green converse. The girl was tall, had broad shoulders, and she was really skinny. Not a flat stomach, but pretty close, her arms were skinny to. She obviously didn't have much muscle. Work out much slacker? OK, that was mean, and you can tell me that the only reason I think little about people who can't lift at least a hundred is because I have super strength, but with the work outs Cadmus puts me through, even if I didn't have it, I'd still be pretty built for a girl my age.
"What's that have to do with me?" I asked.
"They won't really like you if you show up looking like an average girl." She said, and walked me over to a car, and took out a pair or red and black converse that looked even older than hers. They had dark blue paint splatters on them, and I'm pretty sure she didn't buy them that way. I slipped them on, and she put my shoes in the back of her car.
"I'm gonna get those back, right?" I asked.
She laughed, "Yeah, you will, now come on."
She led me down a few streets, and I asked, "Why do you call it an alley party?"
"Because, we have it in an alley." She answered.
She turned into an alley, and I saw about ten to fifteen people, most of them had black, emo or skater hair, but some had odd colors like hers. "Hey guys, this is some kid I grabbed along the way, no worries she's cool."
I soon found, that to them, I was not cool. Valiant might like me, but in this crowd, I stuck out like a sore thumb. My hair blended in fine, I just trimmed it myself every other month, but I wasn't to good, I always thought my hair looked weird compared to most. Apparently, in this crowd, thin black hair with uneven bangs was the latest thing. My clothes were dark, like theirs, and my Shades weren't pushing it that much, but there was one issue. Everyone here had piercings. Piercings on the nose, piercings on the ears, piercings on the lips and who knows were else. I had none. I don't even think I could get them, because of me being kryptonian, and hardly anything can go through my skin.
However, after a few songs, I found out that I really liked this kind of music, and Valiant was kind enough to tell the artists and the titles of them. She taught me how to head bang, and I learned from one of the boys there how to scream with the music. One of the girls offered to die my hair sometime, and I told her I would think about it. I honestly did, I almost caved that very night and asked her to die my hair some wacky out of place color. But my sanity kicked in and I realized that if I came back looking all punked out, as they called it, I was likely going to get a shaved head. I was not in the mood to be bald, though with this crowd, bald seemed acceptable. Anything odd and original was accepted. Guess I found one place I could 'hang' as they said, and feel good about my clone self.
It was all over when my communicator rang, and I was called back to base. I told Valiant I had had the night of my life, and it was the truth. When I got back to the facility, I felt sure that he would yell, but he couldn't hurt me, because I was a kryptonian after all.
What I didn't expect was a piece of kryptonite.
As soon as I walked in, he threw it at me, it hit my forehead, and bounced off in front of my shoes that Valiant had given back, and I felt all the strength drain out of me. I had never felt so weak. I crumpled to my knees, and watched as Dr Carter walked right over to me, and pleasantly kicked my face. I curled into a ball, holding my bruised face, and listened as insult after insult was thrown at me, the kryptonite was making me so weak, it was a struggle just to breath. Eventually, he saw my state, and smirked.
"You see, you think you're indestructible, and the nothing can hurt you, that you're in charge here, but your wrong." He said, as if he were explaining something to a five year old. "I can kill you whenever I see fit you see, this kryptonite, I have more of it, now, it that little pebble hurts you this bad, imagine how two would feel; or three."
He smirked, nudging me with his foot slightly, "If this behavior continues, I will throw them at you, and watch happily as you die slowly. Do we understand each other?"
I couldn't even nod, I was just that weak. He smirked, "I'll take that as a yes."
He picked up the small piece of kryptonite, and put it in a test tube, and then put that test tube into a cabinet. "Don't forget, any time I wish, I can kill you. Never forget that."
The small part of my brain faded away, and I was completely under his control. I stood up, and nodded to him. He smirked, knowing that I was under his control, and gave my head a pat, and sent me to bed. As my mind was controlled, and I laid down in bed like a robot an closed my eyes, the other part of my mind was feeling more and more like a toy that Dr, Carter was playing with, one that he could 'throw away' once he was bored of it.
OK, second chapter done. What do you think?