A split second memory flashed across Shiris' eyes that seemed to take an hour. She could see it all like it was happening right in front of her all over again. The day she left her father's house, the day it had blown up, killing all inside of it. Except her.
She had been about to leave, her bags already packed and in the waiting car, and she was heading down the grand staircase. Her father was in his room and had no idea she was to be joining the Alliance. But the Federation knew. And the Federation thought her father was now a liability, since his daughter was a leading member of the Alliance. And they were not going to stand by and let it happen. Oh no, they were going to destroy him and his daughter before anything could happen that could jeopardize the organization.
Shiris was going to leave out the back exit, so no maids or butlers would see her departure and tell her father. Going to the laundry room door she had been whistling and almost skipping in her relief to be doing something to stop her father's madness.
Then the explosion happened.
It came from upstairs, in her father's bedroom, but it did not stop there.
She was thrown to the ground by the first blast and then pitched forward by the second, closer one and crashed through the window and onto the grass of the backyard.
Frantically she heaved herself up and stared at the flame engulfed house, hearing the cries of her father from his bathroom. He hadn't been in his room and so hadn't died immediately.
"Daddy!" she screamed and raced back into the house, her hands in front of her and her eyes closed against the smoke. Flames licked at her skin as she made her way thought the kitchen to the living room. Her goal was the stairs and then her father, and she fought with all her might to reach the stairway.
Finally she made it and collapsed on the rug, under the smoke and away from the worst of the flames.
It was there that she had seen him, the one man who had caused all this, the man who was standing on the last stair directly in front of her.
Blinking, she crawled to her knees and peered at him, unsure of who he was at first.
He looked about 17 and tall, his hand on the burning railing. He was staring at her, his eyes glaring and menacing. The trench coat snapped around his slight frame, and she could see striking blonde hair reaching to his ears. She almost reached out a hand for help until she saw the smile on his face and the lighter in his hand.
He was flicking it open, shut, open, shut, open, shut. As she stared at him, her anger rose up within her. He was just standing there, flicking the damned lighter, as though he had no idea he had just killed a man.
Screaming, she threw herself at him and she and the surprised boy collided and rolled down the stairs, she clawing at his hair and face and he trying to shove her off.
"You! You did it!" she shrieked, gripping his throat and staring into his eyes. They were gray and misty, swirls of nothing, and they frightened her.
He put his hands on her stomach and shoved her off and into the stairs.
"I'm surprised your still alive," the boy muttered, wiping his split lip, "and am sorry, but I do have to kill you. I apologize now." He flicked open the lighter, the mad smile coming back to his lips.
Growling, she stood up and balled her fists.
Suddenly she heard shouts and looked towards the kitchen. When she looked back, the boy was gone and Jane was in front of her, gripping her arms and pulling her forward. Feeling the strong arms around her, her strength gave out. Shiris coughed weakly and let Jane carry her out of the burning house, barely missing being crushed as the second floor gave way.
Shiris looked over Jane's shoulder at her old house, one that she would never see again. And she thought of the boy, the one who had done all this. And she made a secret vow to herself that she would use her newfound abilities to get her revenge.