Choices
April held the syringe in one hand and the instructions in the other. Frowning, she had second thoughts, but the idea of having a superpower would be so much better than this crappy life, or so she thought. With the latest business with Ben, she was definitely ready to give up on men. Even hearing that Maia had predicted that Ben and Diana would end up together didn't help matters all that much. She was in her apartment, sitting at the couch, feeling confused.
She sighed, and laid the instructions down. It was memorized. She could recite the entire thing in her head, as she had reread them over and over. She hadn't considered Diana's work with the 4400 and all it entailed quite that important in her life. She loved Maia as a real niece, but had decided to keep away for the most part because she felt that everything she touched turned to crap, and now here she was looking at the syringe as if it'd solve everything. She had alternated between nervousness, anxiety, and resolution. The latter won out. She put the needle down gently, so it wouldn't roll around and accidently break.
Hmm... Is that what a druggie really thinks? That the next shot will help solve their lives? No, it's running away. This isn't running away though. I have nothing to lose. This will either kill me, or give me a 4400 power. I hope Diana will forgive me if I really do die.
She wrapped a rubber hose around her arm, and tapped the inside of her arm for the main vein. After finding it, she picked up the promicin-filled syringe. Taking a deep breath, she aimed the needle at her arm, and injected, wincing at the sting. Removing the syringe, she laid it down and waited. Her eyes were shut tightly, as the promicin coursed through her system. Several hours passed, as she sat in the living room, and waited anxiously, trying to relax. Nothing seemed to happen for an eternity, then she felt nausea overcome her, and she ran to the bathroom just in time to flip the toilet lid up, retching the contents of her lunch up. She groaned and leaned back, wiping bile from her mouth, and sighed. She could still feel bile at the back of her throat, but she didn't feel like getting up at that moment. Relief flooded through her as one thought popped into her head.
I'm not dead! It's been more than a few hours and I'm still here.
Stumbling to her feet, feeling giddy now, she splashed water on her face, and took a sip or two to wash the bile away. She stared at herself in the mirror, and frowned. She didn't look any different. She looked at herself from every angle as she could as possible. Thoughts ran through her mind, as she contemplated her physique.
I suppose you wouldn't look any different if you had a 4400 power. I haven't heard about any 4400s with physical deformities caused by the Promicin... Still... I wonder what it is.
Fin.