The Descent

Chapter 22: Aftermath

"Today on the WNRD Superhero Feature." An unseen narrator said, his voice hammy. Two logos flashed by, the WNRD then followed by a relief of some Superman look-alike. Lights and vague shapes flew about, "A boy saved from drowning by the unlikeliest of costumed heroes." A shivering boy covered in sludge appeared, wrapped in multiple towels by paramedics.

"A string of mysterious deaths – A new breed of superheroes, or… Supervillains?" This one interested me vaguely. It showed two crime scenes in two alleys, and the talking head of a detective investigating the sites. The talk of supervillains wasn't as old as superheroes. This particular news headline attracted me.

"Another gang take-down on Bastille Street." A familiar sight greeted me. Dozens of gangsters on the road with numerous police officers taking over from a whole squad of costumed vigilantes.

"And a special report on the Real Life Superhero movement." The unseen narrator finally ended with some interesting looking charts that were interesting only because of the superhero words written all over them. "Now on the WNRD Superhero Feature, James Steel and Vivian Lane."

I tried my best not to think about Mindy, kept my eyes on the television instead. The first piece of superhero news was about another group of superheroes. More were forming every week. We were just one of them, the one that happened to be the first, and so we were used as the role model. This particular group was different though – for one thing, they consisted mainly of the homeless, the destitute and hobos. What do I do with you, Mindy? The leader was a wrinkled but middle-aged man who wore a tattered brown jacket and a tattered strip of mask likely cut out from an old pair of shirt. He calls himself The Refuse, not a very flattering name, but I'm sure it had its story.

They ran on no budget, and depended on the charity of the community. They called themselves the Street Underrats, for obvious reasons, but they saved a curious boy who nearly drowned in the sewers while exploring. They had no headquarters, but they did have a few secret locations where they stashed the little supplies they had. They would normally patrol the streets, and even the sewers, the underground. Mindy, I don't want to do it… Send you back there again… Their main exploits were mainly scouting for illegal activities for the police, acting as contacts, as well as rescue, which they just did. After seeing them on TV, and hearing a summary of their exploits, I knew I had to talk to Colonel Stars and Stripes about forming an alliance with The Refuse and his Street Underrats.

The next bit of news involves three dead punks in alleys in the space of a few days. The first dead man was a serial rapist, and the only witness to the killing was a hooker, and she had been in a coma from head injuries ever since. Why did you have to torture me that way? The other two stiffs were a man and woman, both thieves, robbers and rapists whose MOs reportedly involves the most sadistic tortures possible. They were linked to the murder of a college student and even a cop. The only evidence found on the scenes was a throwing knife. I thought the knife looked familiar, but I was secretly glad that the victims were all criminals, and they seemed to belong to the worse kind.

Then we appeared on the small screen, Justice Forever. Footages of us fighting was caught on camera, the angle largely from above, in the apartments. Only a single angle was street level. It was only from the top that the grand scale of the fight itself could fully appreciated. There were only 9 of us, with gangsters swarming around us, quickly surrounding us, a sea of jerseys pushing against costumes. I saw myself bringing down my batons on one or two, everyone else fighting the way I remembered. It was a strange experience still, watching what happened to you from someone else's point of view. Why did you have to force my hand like that, Mindy? At the end of the news, I found out that the gang's leader and his lieutenant was arrested, along with more than half their gang, and we did most of the arrests. But I had to hand it to the police though – they did capture the leaders, after all, something that was mainly the domain of superheroes, the way… Mindy and I took out Frank D'Amico, the way… Mindy took out Chris D'Amico in her Demoness alter-ego.

I pushed my thoughts of Mindy away. It was getting difficult. I followed the numbers and charts that accompanied the next superhero news feature. Apparently there was a larger superhero group out there, but their numbers were swollen by non-superheroes. It was the Real Life Superhero Movement, which began in the 90s, but consisted then of superheroes who were largely off the radar, non-crimefighters (or at least crimefighting was out of their league) sort of superheroes. Today, it'd grown bigger, and they'd declared themselves the 'union' of Superheroes whose responsibility was to safeguard the interests of Superheroes, and even to fund them. Was Colonel Stars and Stripes ever in contact with them?

Meanwhile…

After turning my room upside-down, I couldn't think of doing anything else but to lie down in bed. I couldn't take my eyes off the ceiling. I was starting to count the cracks on it, and as I was watching the ceiling, I was remembering things. It was so much easier now that Dave told me everything. I watched the ceiling like it was the silver screen in a movie theatre. I could see my life unfolding on the ceiling.

I saw my real Daddy training me, how we exercised together, doing push-ups, sit-ups, crunches, bridges, pull-ups, muscle group exercises, jogging together, jumping, vaulting, doing stunts, doing manuevers, shooting pistols, rifles, beating dummies, how he encouraged me, how he scolded me. How I loved him, how I hated him. How he prepared my breakfast, lunch and dinner and taught me how to do it. Protein milkshakes, meat slurpees, the exact right fruits, the right vegetables, the healthiest fishes all in the name of fighting crime, and taking down… D'Amico. I still could not understand what a D'Amico was, or a D'Amico Tower. I could only imagine a huge pillar that Daddy and I would push together, trying to topple it.

I saw my earliest days out in the streets, fighting crime. I remembered stuffing a pistol into a Teddy Bear, shooting a child abductor in the eyes after he picked me up. It was fun and cool at first, but it made me cry on the way home – it was the blood, the death, the corpse, the idea of killing and taking away a life. I was trained, but I was still a kid. Daddy was patient and kind to me. He didn't scold me then. I remembered going into a crack den with nothing but a pen knife. I couldn't remember how I got out of that, at least not yet. I remembered 'fishing' with Daddy, the both of us doing what I was doing alone these days, baiting and then taking down bad people. It was both training and routine janitorial duty.

I saw how I was like before I lost everything to grief (Dave said I was so depressed after Daddy died that my mind just dumped everything one day). I was a hotshot who knew the solution to every problem, especially ones involving gangsters and crimes, especially when the solution involves tactics, guns and swift justice. I swore freely and enjoyed it. Daddy, my real Daddy, didn't seem to mind one bit. He swore with me all the time. I was free like a bird, free to do anything I want, with only Daddy holding me back, guiding him with his strong but gentle hands. I was… I AM Mindy Macready, and Hit-Girl.

Yet I want to be with Dave, I want him so much to understand me, to forgive me. Part of me believed what I did was right, that he was fine and unhurt, yet I knew I've hurt him badly. The other part of me was putting me down, reminding me that pain didn't have to be a gunshot wound or a knife cut, or a kick in the face. Shouldn't you know better by now, Mandy-Mindy Macready? Shouldn't you of all people know this, after the lies that hurt you so bad? My conscious nagged at me. Part of me couldn't believe how things flew by like a rocket-propelled grenade. Just a month ago, I was just a girl, and I loved – genuinely loved shopping and teddy bears. And now I got what I wanted, I forced the truth out of Dave. Now I wanted to go back to that time, to just forget everything and go back to being that little girl again. I wanted to be Mandy Lizewski again.

Who am I? I knew everything now, and yet I knew nothing at all. I found out everything to do with how I was like, and yet I didn't – couldn't go back to how I was. I still hated the way people swore. It sounded bad, and I felt dirty myself after finding out how I was like. Who am I? Who am I? What have I done? The movie projected on the ceiling stopped as hot beads of tears welled up and rolled down my face. Mindy wouldn't have cried like this, not even when her Daddy just died. Who am I? Who am I? Who am… I? Who…

"My name is… Mindy… Macready." I struggled to say my name. It didn't come as readily from my mind somehow. It was bright, too bright to be normal. Then I realised that there was a lamp above me, and I couldn't move my head. I couldn't move my arms and legs!

"You are mistaken, child." A voice corrected me from somewhere I couldn't see. I looked around with my eyes, moved the little I could my head. I saw an aging man from the corner of my eyes. Interrogation. The word occurred to me.

" My name is… Mindy." I repeated. I was trying to free myself, but I couldn't. All my toys were taken away from me, not just whatever I had scrounged up around the hospital, but the ones in my head – The doctor's been fucking with my head! "My name is Mindy! Mindy Macready!"

"You are mistaken, child." The voice repeated. I saw something glinted around the corner, coming in with another man, this one in white. An orderly, "you're very ill, sweet little girl. I'm going to give you an injection for your… disorder. You'll remember yourself. You have my promise that I will help you with that, yeah? Good."

"Keep that shit away from me!" I shouted, and struggled harder against my restraints, hoping that they would tear, so that I could jam that needle into the doctor's eye since he liked it so much, "I'll fucking carve you up!" The needle, glinting as if it was glaring at me, came closer, just inches away from my arm! "No! I'll fucking-! No! Paul, please!" It went inside. Pain. I saw the plunger getting depressed, and my arm grew cold and distant, no longer my own. I could feel the fluid spreading through my arm, throughout my body. Larger parts of me became cold and distant.

I might have blacked out for a while, because the lamp above me wasn't as bright, and the doctor was on the wrong side. The orderly had disappeared, "Darling, I am going to ask you some questions, okay, sweetie? Alright, good, nice. Let's begin."

"Do you remember your name, sweetheart?" The doctor asked.

"M-m… M…" My mouth trembled. Memories trickled out of my mind, but even that little stream was disappearing. I tried playing around with my lips, with different names silently, but none of them felt familiar, "M-Mandy? Was it Cindy? I… Was it… Mindy? I… I can't remember. Doctor, I can't remember my name! I can't remember!" I cried when I realised I didn't even know my name. I even had trouble remembering the doctor's name. The doctor didn't seem to like my answers. He called someone, and then the orderly came again. There was a familiar glint. It was another needle. I could feel my own eyes lighting up. My mouth moved, but I couldn't find the energy to object, or cry, or scream, or swear no matter how much I wanted to. I could only lie strapped on the chair, terrified as the needle dug deep into me again.

When the doctor asked me my name after that, I couldn't even begin to guess. I didn't even know who he was anymore, I didn't even know why I was strapped down to a chair. I passed out after thinking of no answers in particular.

And I woke up again, this time in my room, with no straps around my arms and legs. I looked at the alarm clock by my bed. 4 o'clock. I had fallen asleep without realising it, in my jeans and shirt. Sitting up, I saw that there was something different in my room. It was no longer a mess. Someone else was in my room while I was asleep, cleaning up. It couldn't be Dave, I knew. He would be too traumatised to go near me, not to mention, I had an unpleasant sensation in the gut that he hated me for what I did. It had to be dad. Daddy… Dave's dad… I couldn't feel the same way towards him anymore, not after everything, not after knowing who my real Daddy was and where in the world – or out of this world – he was. Not after what Dave told me – Dave's dad was a liar just as much, all because he wanted a daughter for himself, for his son. A pang of regret – was this what I wanted?

There was nothing else I could do. I didn't feel like going back to sleep, not after the nightmare. I could remember enough to be scared of it – Me, Mindy Macready, Hit-Girl, bane of crime, afraid! Of a nightmare! I sat just outside Dave's door instead. I wanted to just forget everything, to go inside and lie down beside him as if nothing had ever happened, but I knew it was impossible. Dave hates me – it wasn't a nice feeling I had. I could hear music from inside, from Dave's television. One of Lady GaGa's older music videos. Dave might still be awake, but he could have fallen asleep, like how I did. I sat outside his door, leaning against the railing separating me from a fall down to the first floor, the only source of light and warmth was the cold, bluish light from underneath Dave's door. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't even decide between leaving him or entering his room. My younger self would have shaken her head in shame and disappointment. I wasn't the same Mindy Macready anymore, the one who had a solution to every problem. I'd changed.

Hmm, yea, yea… Another song was playing. It sounded like something older than Lady GaGa.

Meanwhile…

Baby, please try to forgive me

Stay here, don't put out the glow

Hold me now, don't bother

If every minute it makes me weaker

You can save me from the man that I've become, oh yea

The 2000s hour again. Backstreet Boys, a band I could barely remember. Barely registered with me. I was falling asleep… finally. Beautiful… beautiful nothingness, here I come…

Lookin' back on the things I've done

I was tryin' to be someone

I played my part

Kept you in the dark

Now let me show you the shape of my heart

Nothingness couldn't come any slower. Kept… thinking about… Mindy. Should I… have kept her in… the dark?

Sadness is beautiful, loneliness is tragical

So help me, I can't win this war, oh no

Touch me now, don't bother

If every second it makes me weaker

You can save me from the man I've become

Tried to be someone to her… Became something else… in her eyes now… Or have I? Mindy…

Lookin' back on the things I've done

I was tryin' to be someone

I played my part

Kept you in the dark

Now let me show you the shape of my heart

Save me… from the man… I've become… Maybe I shouldn't… have… kept her in the… dark… But I… wanted to protect her… I was her… brother… she was adopted but… Was her brother…

I'm here with my confession

Got nothing to hide no more

I don't know where to start

But to show you the shape of my heart

Found everything… out… Mindy did… Got nothing… left to… hide… What do I do, Mindy?

I'm lookin' back on things I've done

I never wanna play the same old part

Or keep you in the dark

Now let me show you the shape of my heart

Should I have… done it? Kept… her in the dark?

Lookin' back on the things I've done

I was tryin' to be someone

I played my part

Kept you in the dark

Now let me show you the shape of my heart

Am I… wrong? Mindy…

Lookin' back on the things I've done

I was tryin' to be someone

I played my part

Kept you in the dark

Now let me show you the shape of…

Show you the shape of my heart

Mindy…

The Next Morning…

Mindy was cooking breakfast again. I could no longer even trust her with something as simple as this. I couldn't even bear to look at her anymore. She did something different today. Scrambled eggs, bacons and toast, plus her special hot chocolate with extra marshmallows. It looked like she was putting a lot of effort into it. But the hot chocolate reminded me of yesterday, of what happened yesterday. It disgusted me. After what happened yesterday, I would have preferred a cup of arsenic – at least a cup of arsenic would have been a more honest beverage.

"You okay, Dave?" Dad asked, sounding very concerned. He was halfway through his plate, but I hadn't even touch mine at all, and I had no intention whatsoever in letting my lips even brush against the surface of Mindy's hot chocolate. I was looking out a window all the while, away from Mindy. I could imagine it as the funnest thing to do, something I would be doing for a while, "You haven't touched your food." The way Dad said it though, I was worried he might have picked up a bit of our argument back at home. We weren't exactly being very discreet upstairs.

"What?" I was looking out the window so well that I was zoning out. Looking around at Dad, I accidentally caught a glance of Mindy, but looked away as fast as I could. I didn't want to even look at her anymore, that girl I used to call my sister, that little bitch who used herself to torture me, made me wet my own pants, threatened to cut off her little fingers, almost did. The little I saw of Mindy told me that she had barely touched her own food. Her eyes were wide and looking at me, extremely upset and worried – and I was hoping it wasn't wishful thinking that she was. By this point, the more upset she was, the happier I would be. "Oh, nothing. No appetite, I guess. Must be something downright awful I drank yesterday." I took a jab at Mindy, and it felt great. "I knew I shouldn't have drunk it, but I guess I was being stupid. Only dead psychos in black or purple would drink it." From the corner of my eyes, I saw Mindy staring straight at me, her eyes unbelievably tender and broken despite yesterday. It felt good. I smiled at the thought. Yeah, how about that for a torture, Mindy?

"You're not referring to hard liquor, are you, Dave?" Dad said gravely, himself starting to look and sound worried. A raised eyebrow on him was relief to me – it meant that he did not understand it the way Mindy would. By now, Dad's misplaced worries were the least of my concerns.

"Oh no, just some new drink that came in store for me." I made sure it was cryptic enough for both Dad and Mindy, but innocent for Dad, and painfully clear for Mindy. I couldn't believe I was this diabolical myself, and it was a guilty pleasure I had no qualms about accepting. There was nothing for me to worry about in enjoying a bit of vengeance – I had no Uncle Ben to lose.

Dad left us alone at the table to prepare for church. He had a new suit that he wanted to try out, made possible by his higher-paying job. We ate in total silence, or rather, Mindy was eating – barely, and I was just waiting for the bus, letting the food Mindy cooked for me get cold untouched. Yeah, that's right, Dave, let her feel the pain, punish that naughty little girl!

"Dave…" Mindy finally tried to talk to me. Her voice was agonised, and it was agonising for me to hear it. "Please, I'm really sorry. Won't you let me make it up to you? It took me a few tries and two hours to get it right…" But I gave her the silent treatment. Even better, I took the glass of Mindy's Fucking Amazing Hot Chocolate with Extra Marshmallows and Probably Something Else Extra and poured it down the sink. Her plate of mouth-watering gem of a premium scrambled eggs, bacon and toast was consigned to the trash. I opened the fridge and walked away with a dented apple in hand, leaving her there. I took a glance at her, and I saw her – stunned, struggling to hold back tears, maybe a tinge of anger. I was smiling wide inside.

Later…

I didn't want to sit next to Mindy on the pew at first. I was hoping to use Dad as a divider, but even he insisted that we sit next to each other. Mindy wasn't as forceful this time. She didn't try anything, but I didn't like the thought of sitting right next to her, this Mindy who'd changed so much, so fast, that I couldn't even understand my own feelings anymore. It was like getting my soul beamed into an alien body from Planet X.

The pastor droned on and I couldn't concentrate. Everyone was smiling and laughing but me, but then again maybe it had something to do with the fact that I was sitting next to a timebomb that only I knew about. The next order of business – how do I deal with the Mindy crisis? I was strategizing throughout Pastor Harkman's preaching. Does Dad need to know? Does Doctor Paul need to know? Is another year in the Jameson Psychiatry Institute the only answer? I questioned myself just as much. Is Mindy still family? Is she still my Mindy? Do I love her? Do I hate her? When Mindy changed, it felt like I had lost someone, but she was still there. I couldn't find any answers within me, only questions, and they were starting to pile up like homework just before the summer holidays.