The Descent

Chapter 5: A Week On

7 June 2011, Tuesday

Deer Diary,

Dad bought you for me so that I could write down my feelings. When Dave left for skool today, dad brought me shopping in the supermarket, and he found you there. He said you would help me. Thanks dad! And thank you too, diary.

I found out from Dave that I'm 11 years old, and my birthday was just four months ago. He said since I dont remember my last birthday party, we will celebrate it again. I'm so happy!

Goodnight, diary!

8 June 2011, Wendsday

Deer Diary,

Dave brought me to his skool. He said that I will need to go to skool. I can't remember how skool was like. But why do I feel sad when I think about skool? Was it so bad there?

…

I knocked on the door to the principal's office. I didn't know what to think, but at least it had little to do with behavioural problems – I was never really a part of that, other than those few times when I got into fights and lost, and I didn't even start it. I didn't know what to think or what would happen, bringing Mindy in like that. Would anyone recognise her? I know she looked very different from how she was back then, but would it be enough? The only good thing I had going for me was that I was on good terms with the principal. Depression had its uses, and it gave me an obsession with school. That obsession with school gave me my good grades, and my sudden improvement in school grades'd put me in the principal's good books, "Come in."

"Morning, Dave. Interesting to see you! I wasn't expecting you here!" The principal was a woman in her forties, still quite hot, even in her business wear. She was different from the other educators I've met. She was livelier, more colourful. The others were either dying of boredom or overexposure to hyperactive children or angsty teenagers.

"Good morning, Mrs. Dixon." I greeted her formally. I didn't feel like being accused of reverse-paedophilia. For some reason, my mind's alarm for anything to do with that kind of stuff became dad's me-as-a-paedophilia joke.

"And who is this fine young lady you brought in?" She beamed and gazed at Mindy with an enthusiasm that even I found off-putting. Her piercing silvery-blue eyes didn't help – they looked like they could peer right into your soul. I could never tell if it was just part of her professional behaviour or if she was for real. Predictably, Mindy could never meet her eyes, choosing to look at a wall instead, and of course, she was hiding behind me, afraid or shy, or a combination of both, if I'm lucky.

"Oh, it's Mandy Lizewski." I introduced my adopted sister to the principal, gestured for her to stand on her own, to greet her.

"G-good morning, Mrs. Dixon." Mindy repeated what I said. For a moment, she met the principal's gaze, but then she turned away again. She couldn't find anything for her right hand to do, so she placed it over her left arm, an unconscious gesture of insecurity and nervousness. It wasn't the first time.

"Good morning, Miss Mandy Lizewski." The principal returned the greeting, trying to be as nice as possible, smiling wide, but Mandy wasn't looking at her face anymore. "Is she a relative? Cousin?"

"No, she's my sister." I said, trying to be as flat as possible, make it sound like old news. I was never sure how successful I was. The principal hardly changed her demeanor, "My dad wants her to study here." I was hoping that she'd pick up the home-school or other-school subtext I was trying to fabricate between the lines.

"Where's your father?" The principal asked, slightly toned down a bit. That was when I knew she's going down to business, or if she sensed something was up. I was desperately praying that she didn't recognise Mindy. Mindy didn't exactly have a very good reputation either in my school. In the final months before she went totally batshit insane, she became cold, unstable. She'd started bullying her schoolmates. I knew I should've seen one form of mental problem lining up or the other, but then again, who'd have realised she'd go full-blown insane months after? I'd bet anything that even Mindy didn't know she herself was going nuts. Her father'd trained her to be strong, I saw that in her when she didn't stop after he was gone, but continued on until Frank was killed – It was only a while after that that she broke down.

"Oh, that. He's on double-shift today." I explained the moment she asked, as I didn't even want a hint of doubt over Mindy. I didn't want to give the Principal time to remember her face, "Here's his letter and application form." Putting down my bag, I took out an envelope and a few papers stapled together and put them on her desk, "Could she sit in for today? To get comfortable?" It took her a few minutes to read through everything, to get them in order.

Mindy's situation was all explained in my dad's letter, everything except that she was once a student here called 'Mindy Macready'. When the principal was done reading, she was leaning back – never a good sign – and taking a good, hard look at Mindy. Mindy made eye contact again, only to regret it and go back to the wall or floor again. I couldn't help but to hold my breath and scramble for the best line to use. For a moment, I thought she'd call Mindy Macready out.

"Have I seen her around before?" The principal finally said, but it sounded rhetorical. Looking at Mindy and comparing her to her past, healthier self, I thought she looked very different myself. For a dreadful moment I thought I was mistaken, somehow too biased to judge, "Huh. Nevermind, sorry about that. I've been on the job for over two decades. I've gone through thousands of kids. I guess it's starting to show." Slowly and silently, I let out my breath and figured that if the principal can't tell if it was Mindy, everyone else won't.

Then the principal stood up. It caught me a little off-guard. And came towards Mindy, bent low so that she was at about her eye level, taking her hand, "I'm sorry about what happened to you, Mandy. We'll try to make sure you're comfortable here while you recover."

"Is it okay if Mandy sits in on her classes today?" I continued my negotiations, "My dad's on double-duty." I'd discussed this with my father – Mindy would need to work hard to catch up, and she'd need all the time she could get. I had an utterly dreadful feeling that she'd need to catch up quick, or she'd remain dumbed down forever – call me irrational, but it felt like the risk was there.

When we were out of the principal's office, I could sense that Mindy was afraid of being in class. As a first, a hint of annoyance entered me, but then again, was this how everyone started out? Being afraid? Doctor Paul had stripped away not just Mindy's years of training and experience, but also the confidence that came with it, plus 1 or 2 years of 'basic development', leaving behind a child even younger than 11. It was sure as hell how I started out, and it'd affected me since. Just look at my circle of friends. It was never really that big. Mindy had finally begun to take a step in that direction, as a normal child would, although I was beginning to wish that she didn't have to, not especially when…

"Dave, I'm scared, I- I don't want to go to class!" She'd said, pulling at my hand, refusing to move on. Class was almost starting, and there were a lot of elementary students around, some of who were bound to be Mindy's future classmates. Upon hearing what Mindy'd said, a few girls were already giggling past us. It didn't bode well for her. I shot a murderous look at them to get them to stop, and sure enough, they did. After all, I was in highschool.

I stopped, and bent low to regard her on equal grounds. At first, I didn't know what to say. What could I say? Don't be afraid, it'd all be fine? I wasn't my father, and I knew very well that it'd be a tough journey ahead, especially for Mindy – she had her independence to lose when no other elementary school kids did. What the other students had was a past, a past that could give them a measure of strength, however short at a few years it was. Mindy was down to 2 or 3 days after Dr Paul was done with her. What could I say?

"Mandy." I said firmly, trying to catch her attention. At the very least, she could look me in the eyes; others were too tough for her to look at, "Before you lost your memories, before the… bus accident, you were strong." I remembered Hit-Girl taking punches and kicks that no girls could take. "You were smart." I remembered her outmanoeuvring a whole gang of criminals, "You knew how to laugh." I remembered her lines, full of vulgarities as they were. It was the best I could come up with. I remembered Dr. Paul's instructions, but I figured these were general enough.

"You knew how to make friends," Which was a lie of course, but that's up for interpretation. The old Mindy could have theoretically made friends – anyone could, just that she chose not to, or couldn't find the right crowd (though it wasn't so surprising that there weren't a lot of children like Mindy around). Eventually, it wasn't even her choice anymore, "It's all in you even if you can't remember. Okay, Mandy?"

Mindy smiled. That was a start, though somehow, it felt like I botched up somehow. It was a realisation for me that it wasn't exactly easy doing things that dad had to do with me.

…

Skool School was horrible. Now I no why I feel so sad, being in school. I stuttered when I introduced my name, and they luffed at me.

In English class, some of my classmates threw paperballs at me! They were so mean!

When I told Dave about it at lunchtime, he told me to 'just make friends' and ignore the paperball throwers. Lunchtime was the WORST. No one wants to sit with me. I feel sad and lonely.

I'm scared of tomorrow.

9 June 2011, Thirstsday

Deer Diary,

Math was hard today. I had trouble with division and multiplication, but Mrs. Davies was kind to me. She was patient and taught me how to do it on the board. Does she no about my memery memmery memory loss? Becourse Mrs. Davies was always angry at all the others.

But I am happy! I met friends today! Dave introduced them to me.

…

"Remember what we talked about, guys?" I said to my old friends, Marty and Todd. Just the previous day, I brought them into the loop, except that they knew about just as much as Mrs. Dixon and the teaching staff.

"Yeah, no superheroes, comic-books, action movies, sports, errr…" Todd started listing off everything, but ended only about half-way. He'd just discovered another way to frighten me.

"And no guns, sex, violence and profanity?" Marty finished it off. To be fair to Todd though, I wasn't even sure if that was everything. I was taking this one step at a time, improvising as I go. It was just like my Kick-Ass ordeal all over again. This time I had the gift of foresight, waiting for a car accident to happen. Except this time I won't let it happen.

"Then what are we going to talk about?" Todd complained. It ticked me off quite a bit – Mindy's sanity was on the line for crying out loud! I'd explained it to them not too long ago!

"I still can't believe you have a sister I didn't know about. I've been your friend ever since, like, fucking 5, man." Marty said. My ears, at this time, was oversensitive, so I shushed him when he used the famous four letter word, "Why the hell was she in Canada again?" And again, I shushed him, much to his annoyance. I couldn't help it, and they didn't know. I felt isolated from my buddies all of a sudden because of Mindy.

"And the fact she lost all her memories up to a few days ago? That's some Wolverine shit right there, Dave! That's awesome!" Todd continued. By this time, I was freaking out, as I could already see Mindy going around the corner into the cafeteria. I nudged Todd in the kidney, perhaps a little too hard. I didn't even have the time to get offended by his idea of what is awesome.

When we sat down for lunch, it was even worst. I was always looking out for whatever disaster that could be coming out of Marty and Todd's mouth, not that a lot was coming out. For the first few minutes, we were just eating. Todd was right for once; comic-books and superheroes were the staple of our discussions and bonding.

Then Todd looked like he had a bright idea, "Have you guys seen the trailer for Winnie the Pooh?" His question was met with silence. Marty was leaning his head against his hand, trying to look interested against his wishes. I could tell that it was difficult for him. I didn't care, heck, it seemed like a good idea at the time.

"Yeah, it was… awesome. Totally." Marty said, this time playing along well enough.

"It's coming out in theatres this month right?" I contributed, hoping to keep milking this thread of discussion long enough. Mindy looks up from her plate, and seemed interested.

"Next month. Dude, we should all go when it opens." Todd continued. Marty looks tortured, but I didn't care.

"Sure! Wow, I didn't know you had it in you, Todd!" I said, gladly. Better this than them fouling up and uttering a four letter word or two. I was hoping for Mindy to say something, make a break for my friends.

"Can I come too?" She exclaimed – she had many reasons to be interested. From what she'd told me, she wasn't doing very well in class. Even without her killer stare and bully's complex, no one would befriend her on her first day. Marty and Todd would be the first.

"Of course you can, Mandy." I readily agreed. Then there was another few minutes of silence again. Revisiting our childhood wasn't our thing. We were the type who's always looking forward, looking forward to the next issue of X-men, or the next Hulk movie. Looking forward to the next hot chick, or the next running gag between us.

"Have you guys been watching Playhouse Disney?" What came out of Todd had Marty rubbing his temples, and me questioning his childhood – Playhouse Disney was beneath even Mindy, or at least I hoped so. Still, it was a better idea than talking about The Punisher in front of her, "Is it still broadcasting Barney the Dinosaur?" Was Barney ever on that channel? Vindicating Todd, I never knew myself.

…

10 June 2011, Fryday

Deer Dear Diary,

School was tough today, but I think I'm better at math. I can remember some of it from before the bus accident. It's scary, to suddenly no things you never did.

I met a friend after class today. His name is Pete. He said that I was kool because of the words I used in composition. But I don't even know what a mag-lite is.

He loves comic books. Dave told me befor that they are bad and I should avoid them.

I love Dave. He was always with me right from when I woke up at that scary place with Dr. Paul. So I didn't look at the comic book he brought with him to skool school.

Anyway, Dave told me he's taking me to the park for jogging, so bye bye diary!

…

"Will we be running very far, Dave?" Mindy asked as I was getting on my bicycle, waiting for Mindy to get on to the backseat. Taking a quick look to see if she was sitting properly, I noticed that she was looking a little better. Less pallid, less depressed. I could barely see any eyebags at all. She was still thin, but not frail. Things were working out after all.

"No, not even a mile, at least for you." I replied. Doctor's orders. I couldn't allow her to do any rigorous exercises, I've called to even ask him. A mile, in fact, was pretty much the limit specifically set by the doctor, plus no other exercises after that.

"Why not? I feel so much better, Dave." She said with a wide smile. Good things have been happening, as she had told me. The paperballs weren't a bother to her anymore. Or at least, they were overshadowed by her meeting a new friend on her own and solving complex elementary math problems, "I feel like I could fly!" Now, ordinarily, you'd want to encourage a kid when she said that, or stick a Superman in their hand. With Mindy though, it had the opposite effect on me.

"Now where did you get that idea from?" I asked, feigning calm. I was getting good at it, lying. It bothers me a bit that I was, but whenever I thought of Mindy, the uneasy feeling of lying to a kid goes away quickly enough.

"A dream. I dreamt that I was flying from one building to another." Mindy replied, and immediately I knew it was another residual memory. I remember Hit-Girl doing that sort of stunt, jumping from one rooftop to another. Specifically, after saving me from getting castrated by Rasul and his gang of crackheads.

"It's just a dream, Mandy. People don't fly." I lied, sort of. Admittedly, this one took away the comfort I'd built towards lying.

"Okay… Can I still run with you? All the way?" Mindy persisted. An alarm was sounding in my head, a red alert. Perhaps I was overimagining things, but it really felt like she was reawakening like Dark Phoenix or something, "It feels like we're a… team, and we should run together as a-"

"I said NO! Stop asking before I turn around!" Before I knew the best way of handling it, I was already freaking out. It was a knee-jerk response like no other. I guess down inside, I knew that it was a survival situation, a game of chess, with everyone's health on the line. I stopped the bicycle, in case I was too distracted to keep peddling. I turned to face her. She was crying, and it melted my heart, "Oh gosh, I'm sorry Mandy." I hugged and cooed her. It took her a bit of time to calm down. My guess? She was shocked that I would jump at her like that – I can't remember the last time I did that. It was a first.

"Mandy… it's important that you listen to me, okay?" I said, making sure that I spoke my words carefully. I needed a good reason to stop her from exercising too much. This time though, lying seemed different. This time, I was taking her athletic potential away, I was taking away her strength, her speed, her dexterity, everything that'd made kicking mafia ass possible. It was awesome when she did, but it had to be over now. Even as a stake was getting driven into my heart, I went ahead with my best idea, and it feels like I was getting good at coming up with excuses too, "You can't do things like that. You were born weak, Mandy. You were always sick; we nearly lost you a few times, plus the bus accident."

"But I feel better!" She was pleading me. It stung. Her stubbornness was a worrying trend, but I tried not to worry – reading online about parenting helped. Most kids were hyperactive by nature. They'd want to do a lot of things. Still, somewhere inside me, I knew that Mandy's stubbornness was a part of Mindy's stubbornness.

"No, no Mandy. It's happened too many times." I feel like a dirty, compulsive liar. Sometimes I wondered just how long I could keep the act up before spilling the beans out of guilt or getting tired. "You won't know it when you've run too much, then you'll get sick and go back to the hospital. Do you want to go back to the hospital?" Worryingly, I'd always try to comfort myself by thinking of it as the truth, resynthesized.

"No…" Her reply was immediate at the bare mention of the hospital. I doubt anyone would enjoy being in a hospital after getting back into the outside world. I bet Mindy was no different. Deep inside, I bet the real Mindy absolutely hates being in a hospital.

"And whenever you're in a hospital, everyone's going to be very sad. Do you want everyone to be sad?" I structured my question methodically, making sure there was no way out except for my way. I feel detestable, like Hannibal Lecter or Jigsaw.

"No…" She repeated her answer. I flashed a half-genuine smile, made it as real as possible. I was glad that the danger of her memories resurfacing was averted, but I was wrecked that I'd destroyed a frickin' highway of possibilities for her in life. Down the pipe went the possibilities of her becoming an athlete, a police officer, a soldier, a firewoman – anything really that required good fitness. If it goes really well, she could even forget about being a surgeon, a doctor, or a lawyer – Hey, you can't be wheezing while you're performing an arterial bypass or fighting a case. I felt like a low-down muck-dwelling crook. At least this way, I knew for certain that I was no Lex Luthor.

"So be a good girl, and don't run too far." I'd never believe I was capable of this a week ago. I sounded completely different, lecturing Mindy like that. I would never have figured that I would be in position this soon, or in the next decade for the matter.

"Okay." She replied, visibly upset.

"Good girl." I praised her, stroking her hair, but I was instantly reminded of Dad's me-as-a-paedophile joke for some reason.

Upon reaching the park, we started limbering off, but before we could finish, a superhero walked past us. A huge guy, but not the wrestling type. He was horizontally huge, as in obese, and he was in black tights with grey cape and overpants. A huge 'B' decorated his chest. "Wooow…" Mindy, with all her naivety, was amazed.

"You guys seen any crime around here?" The 'B' hero said. He had the worst opening line yet, reminding me of a hobo looking for thieves instead of coins. I began criticising everything about him with my eyes, I couldn't help it. He bounced like a water balloon nearing breaking point as he walked – he looked like he could barely run. The sweat collecting around his back and chest helped with the impression. The worst part was, he was jeopardising Mindy's memory the longer he was with us, "I'm The Buzzard, by the way." So buzz off, my evil side thought.

"No, not at all, Mr Buzzard." I said instead. It'd get him off our backs, plus, being Kick-Ass in secret, I didn't feel like treating my fellow super-heroes that badly, "Not here, please." But I couldn't help some of the quirks in my language when I'm wishing he was gone. And soon, with a few bounces, he was off.

"Is he a… superhero?" Mindy exclaimed excitedly. Thankfully, the Buzzard was bouncing off faster after someone, though I didn't bother if it was a criminal or an innocent person.

"Superheroes don't exist, Mandy. He's just an attention-seeker." Again with the half-truth. This time, I had to break my personal code, though I wasn't sure if I got through to her. She was still feasting her eyes on the Buzzard running after a person. I had to physically turn her head and get her back to limbering off, "Mandy! Are you listening to me?" I finally caught her attention. I was starting to regret taking her to the park, but investing some money in a running mill would cost far too much for dad to take, "What did I say?" I certainly caught her attention just as much, just not as Kick-Ass.

"You said that superheroes don't exist." She was mellowing out once again, repeating what I said as any kids would do.

"And before that, I told you it's important that you listen to me." I figured out quickly that scolding never was my style. I hated it, "Now, let's limber off."

The jogging cancelled out Mindy's bad mood. She seemed to like it, which made it all the harder for me to take it away from her. It didn't last very long though. She was out of breath and panting not even a quarter into it – a year completely without training had taken away all the stamina she'd worked for. Not even half a mile into it, Mindy tripped over her own foot and fell down. Klutz, you turned her into a Klutz! I remembered my criticism of Dr Paul, of what he'd done to Mindy. She'd bruised and cut a knee on the road. She didn't take it too well, and started crying again as she was clutching her wounded knee. In the end, I had to carry her back to my bicycle – I had a first aid box just in case.

As I was washing it over and applying antiseptic, I had half my mind on the buzzard. It reminded me of my own superhero identity, of the superhero world. I became curious; Was the Buzzard the only one left? Crime was at a low as of late, ever since the D'Amico empire fell. My mind went back to the idea of becoming Kick-Ass again. The last time was months ago, and I hadn't bothered to even wash the uniform at all. I hadn't sweat much in it, and the blood and cuts on it were… sacred to me somehow, becoming as integral to the uniform as the fabric was.

"Dave?" Mindy's voice brought me back to reality, and I realised I'd zoned out for a while. Returning to her wound, I wrapped a bandage over it and started driving her back home, much to her dismay.