~~~~~~~~~~~~Chapter 6~~~~~Stormy News~~~~~~~~~~~~
Gotham City
August 18. 1208 hrs
I open the newspaper and leaf through it. Sometimes it's nice to read the paper. To catch up on all of the news in Gotham. On the front page there's a huge headline about a Bruce Wayne Charity ball party. Something about a fundraiser for the local orphanage. In honor or memory of something for his ward Dick Grayson.
I didn't really read it thoroughly. I flip the page to the smaller columns. There's a few articles on arrests that Batman's made this week. That's weird. No signs of Robin with him all week. I read the articles. You know it's funny how familiar these arrests made by batman sound like the guys I've taken down this week. I keep searching through the pages when I cross this headline:
"Man Rescued by New Vigilante."
"David Huges was checked into Gotham General Hospital last night. He was brutally beaten, and has the wounds to prove it. A dislocated shoulder, a broken nose, two black eyes, and a cracked rib. The men who attacked Mr. Huges were found in Gotham City Jail, with bat-cuffs on them.
I questioned Huges about being saved by Gotham's Hero and his answer was quite astonishing.
"It was a girl who saved me. She was very young. She wore a pink and purple suit, and told me her name was Plasma Girl. She fought the guys who beat me. Then she brought me here, to the hospital. Whoever she was, she saved my life." I quote from Huges.
Plasma Girl? Is she the heroine of Gotham City? Is she just a sidekick? Who and whatever she is, Huges owes his life to her. More to come on this Plasma Girl; if she makes another move. You'll hear-read- it first, from Vickie Vale at the Gotham Globe."
I grab the scissors from the knife block and run to my room. I hit the door and struggle to push it open quickly. Once it's, open I rush to my desk and pull out my journal. I open it to the first clean page. Cut out the column and paste. Wow! My first hero recognition! This is so exciting!
"Marie? Can you come down here?" Dad yells from the basement. Of course, ruining my moment. I walk past the kitchen and to the basement door. Standing on my tippie-toes, I feel for the key on the frame. When I touch it I grab it and unlock the door.
The lights are on, and dad's basement is so much different from mom's. Her lab is dark, dingy, and small. Dad's lab is quite large. The stairs divide the room in half. To the left is all of his experiments and research. The right, is just open space.
The floor, ceiling and walls all have rubber padding ."A non-conductible material so we don't cause another neighborhood blackout Marie." As dad always says, cupping my chin. Under the stairs is a small computer desk, with a portable laptop. This way he can move the computer, and it doesn't get fried.
This, this room, is where he does his 'tests'. To figure the limits of my powers. How they work, and what they do. This room is where I've stayed any time he or Allison gets sick. This room, I despise this room. This was the room in our old house where I was struck by dad's machine.
Although he'd never tell me, I know I'm his greatest 'discovery'. Invention, at that. Every time he does one of these 'tests' he files a report of it. He hides the reports in two places. One is on his laptop, in a file that has been fire walled by professional hackers. The second is in a safe behind his nightstand.
A safe that has a ten number sequenced electric combination lock. I have hacked and cracked both of these. It wasn't easy, yet it wasn't hard. Somehow, with electronics its different. If I try and I push myself, I can sort of connect with them. I've only done it three or four times, each time I've gotten a bloody nose.
"Are you ready?" Dad asks, clapping his hands together. I nod, but say:
"Dad, I really don't want to." He shakes his head. "What does that mean?" He's quiet and moves the small computer desk to the wall in front of me. He's already taken the computer out into the hallway.
"I want you to use your, what did you call it? With the vision?"
"My E.M.P. vision?" He nods. Then stands behind me, with a clipboard. I'm sure his report is attached to it. I focus on the desk and everything else in the room goes grayscale. The desk however has a blue pulse around it. Waves emanate from the top of it at a constant pace.
"It's an electromagnetic pulse." He scribbles something down.
"Remarkable!" I sigh.
"Dad? You've already run this test before." He nods. "I want to go." Silence and scribbles. Suddenly I don't feel good. My head aches, and I feel nauseas. "Dad! I want to go." He stops and looks me in the eye. After a second he nods.
I run upstairs. I run into my room, slam my door, and lay on my bed. There must be a storm coming. I can always sense them, since the accident. I remember dad's report on it.
I've seen Marie cry more today than I think I ever have. I think it may be related to the weather. She has always been afraid of thunderstorms, it's been worse since the accident. Since that day she's been able to- detect a storm before it arrives. She gets very emotional and wants to stay in her room. I've never denied her this comfort she takes in that spot.
I believe, also, that the lightning affects her on a physical level. The positive and negative electrical charges of a thunderstorm or a lightning strike are very intense. Her blood is electrically charged. This may very well be connected to her fear of the storms. I would love to conduct more research on the topic, but on days such as this she is very touchy. Often times she will not even allow me to do a test or conduct and experiment if a storm is within twenty or so miles of us.
I cry and cry into my pillow. I have to stop, and get up. I find my trash can next to my desk; just in time to. I move it next to my bed. Then I curl up under the covers. Ready for the blow of the storm to hit. There's no way I'm going on patrol tonight.
I'm just tired of being a lab rat to him. It's not who I am anymore. I help people with my abilities, not allow myself to be poked and prodded for having them. Dad doesn't get it, and that pains me. It's one of the reasons why I can't tell him. Lightning strikes, thunder rumbles, my body begins to hurt. I cry more and more. I don't want to cry though, to feel bad for myself. Still, I can't stop. The rain begins and hits against the window.
I burnt down the house once. The old house. It was cold and rainy, thundering and lightning, as it had been for a few days. I was tired, cranky, crying, sore. I just wanted the storm to be over. I was angry that is wasn't.
Then there was a white surge of pure light. All I felt after that was an immense heat. Then black, everything went black. I woke up a few days later in the hospital. Allison was okay, and so was dad. I had let out a charge so strong that I blacked out and set fire to the house. I suffered from smoke inhalation.
Now I cover my head as the lightning strikes again and again. Each time with a loud rumble of thunder and body pains following. I knew a storm was on it's way.
