Chapter XI
Pride disgraced the layered depths of her happiness. It was too weak a word, too confining a space to faithfully describe how she felt. She had earned this, all of it. By right, she reveled in her accomplishments.
Like she had done so many times before, Cissie returned home on a visit from boarding school. In many ways, things had forever changed. In her gleeful stride through the door she wore a smile that shimmered with confidence. It was a confidence that for her had long been absent. Along with her head held high, in her hand, she also held a first place certificate from her archery club.
Admittedly so, she had been apprehensive of boarding school, but as time wore on, she found herself genuinely falling in love with it. The unfamiliar had become the definitive aspect of her life. There she had blossomed into a person, her own woman. No longer was she a mere appendage of any costume or forlorn dream of another. She had friends, accomplishments.
She had a real, normal life. She had good days and bad days, but she valued each one the same. They meant something, especially to one such as herself who had never known the simple pleasures of life. She thirst her entire life for but a glimpse and now she saw how life was meant to be seen, not from behind a mask, but with eyes wide open. Normalcy, the humble state of living was so extraordinary that it surpassed anything she had ever known or wished for in life.
Cissie cheerfully called out, "Hi mom! I'm home! Mom?" Curious as to where her ever eccentric mother was, the dull, but alluring glow of the television highlighted her mother's presence in the den. Cissie peered in and saw her mother seated in her chair watching the news.
Eager to share her achievements with her mother, Cissie began, "Hi mom! There you are; I'm home! Look at my award, I got first place in my school's archery competition! I was so happy when I won, aren't you proud?"
Her mother did not turn around as she spoke. Readjusting her glasses, her mother prepared to speak, "Proud?" The air in the room tightened as she spoke, "I am supposed to be proud that my daughter, with her limitless potential, is squandering her talents with archery club? Have you seen the news, or are you too giggly at school to even care about things that are really important."
Like the kiss of a rusted blade, the sharp emphasis on the word "really," tore into Arrowette. Discouraged, Arrowette quietly responded, "…Yeah, um, a bank and museum were robbed."
"That's right," her mother quickly followed, and sternly continued, "How can you just stand there so, so uncaring knowing that? There are people lying in the hospital, teetering between life and death. There are actually brave people who have willingly risked their lives to stop these crimes and protect the innocent, and none of them have your spit's worth of power. You are blessed with gifts that can change the world. But no, you would rather selfishly show off to your snobbish friends than use your powers to help others."
Both women were on the verge of tears. Cissie neared tears for the crushing gravity of her mother's speech, and her mother likewise out of sheer passion. Inhaling, she left her daughter with, "Cissie, you are a disgrace, such a damn disgrace. Go. Do whatever the hell you want. I don't care."
Between words she exhaled deeply as if severing herself from her kin, and said, "It's your life. You don't have to do the right thing."
Enveloped in the dull radiance of the television light Cissie learned, painful as it was that no arrow, or archer for that matter, could pierce a heart as deeply as did her own mother's words.