I approached the door to my house, a sinking feeling settling in the pit of my stomach. My eyes fell on the scattered mess of empty beer cans and cigarette butts that lined the porch. It was like a trail of breadcrumbs left behind by a sinister fairy tale character.
Coming home was never a pleasant experience, especially with Jake in the picture. I hesitated for a moment, my hand hovering over the doorknob when the muffled sound of his voice reached my ears. He spoke in hushed tones, his voice laced with a sense of urgency.
The words 'the boy' and 'that was the deal' caught my attention, and a flicker of suspicion sparked within me. Was he talking about me? I wondered, my thoughts sprinting through a maze of possibilities. To whom? I strained my ears, trying to eavesdrop on the fading fragments of their conversation. It definitely wasn't my mom's voice, that much was clear. Instead, it was this deep, masculine baritone that dripped with authority.
The worn-down door groaned in protest as I pushed it open, revealing the dimly lit interior. The air hung heavy with the pungent smell of smoke, and the oppressive scent of neglect. Wrinkling my nose in distaste, my gaze fell upon the drywall, bearing the unmistakable mark of a fist-shaped hole—a testament to Jake's explosive outbursts.
Considering my own abilities, it was a wonder the entire house hadn't been reduced to rubble. But causing further destruction was the last thing I wanted, despite having plenty of reasons to lose my temper. I could almost feel the silent disagreement of the house's crumpled door handles.
Stepping into the living room, Jake's gaze snapped towards me, his expression souring. "I'll call you back," he grumbled, abruptly ending the call. A twinge of suspicion prickled at the back of my mind. His perpetual scowl deepened as he looked me up and down.
"Creeping up on me now, boy? Jake muttered gruffly. "How long have you been lurking around?"
"Just got back from uni," I replied, aiming for a calm and nonchalant tone, hoping to defuse the tension. "Where is mom?"
Jake snorted derisively. "Like give a damn," he spat. There was a subtle shift in his demeanor, almost imperceptible, but I could sense his initial guardedness easing. My suspicions grew stronger. What was he up to?
I clenched my jaw, shooting him a withering glare. He smirked, reveling in getting under my skin. I resisted the urge to snap back at him, knowing it would only fuel the fire.
"Fine, then. I'll wait for her," I replied coolly. I walked past him, my elbow grazing perilously close to his side.
"Friggin' hell," I muttered under my breath as I stepped into my room, an uneasy feeling slithering up my spine. Something was off, I could feel it in my bones. My eyes scanned the room, and there it was – subtle, but unmistakable. The stack of books on my desk had been shifted slightly to the left, a hair's breadth away from where I left them. The picture frame on my nightstand was tilted at an odd angle, and I could see that a few of my clothes had been rummaged through in my closet.
To most, these might seem like trivial details, hardly worth a second glance. But to me, they screamed a different story. Someone had trespassed into my sanctuary without an invitation. And it pissed me off. Big time.
Damn it, Jake. That sneaky bastard had nosed around in my personal space again, digging his grubby hands where they didn't belong. It was just another reminder of why I couldn't trust him, not even within the walls of my own room.
With a resigned sigh, I closed the door behind me. I inhaled deeply, expecting to catch a whiff of Jake's familiar stench. But instead, a different aroma hit me, one that made my nose wrinkle in confusion. It was a musky scent, a man's scent. Definitely not Jake's signature stench. I would recognize it anywhere. This was something else entirely.
What the actual…? I strained my senses trying to identify the stranger's odor. Hints of expensive cologne, mixed with a faint smell of leather. My mind raced with possibilities. Who the hell was this stranger, and what was he doing in my room?
After the day I had, I felt like I was on the verge of losing it. Each taunt and jab had been a drop in the bucket, slowly filling it to the brim. And now, this violation of my sanctuary, this invasion of my personal space—it was the final straw. Anger simmered within me, rising higher and higher like a volcano ready to erupt.
The nagging feeling of being watched, followed, had been haunting me for days. I brushed it off as paranoia, my mind playing tricks on me. But now, with the foreign scent hanging in the air, fear crept up my spine.
I strained my ears, desperately hoping to catch any telltale sounds that would lead me to the identity of the intruder. But I was immediately assaulted by the jarring sounds of the whole neighborhood. The incessant blare of car horns and screeching tires mingled with the booming bass from nearby clubs, creating an earsplitting cacophony. A never-ending symphony of chaos that drowned out any hope of deciphering the mystery man's identity.
Helplessness gnawed at my insides, like a beast clawing its way out. Power surged through my veins, fueled by my anger, seeking an outlet. It pulsed beneath my skin, demanding release. I grasped my head, feeling the tension tightening like a vice.
The day's events pounded in my head, each insult and humiliation resurfacing with a vengeance. They echoed in my mind, a never-ending loop of hurt and frustration. My temples throbbed with a pulsating headache, heat building behind my eyes. I squeezed them shut and tried to rein it in, but my head felt like it was wrapped in barbed wire.
It was too much to bear. I had to get out. Find a way to release the tension before it consumed me completely.
Without a second thought, I bolted out of the house, the wind whipping past me as I moved at breakneck speed. The feeling of pure, unadulterated freedom was exhilarating. I ran and ran, my legs pounding the pavement beneath me until I found myself in a secluded stone quarry outside Gotham.
In that solitary haven, the world faded away, leaving only the sound of my pounding heart in my ears. I closed my eyes, the weight of the day pressing down on my chest, and unleashed a primal scream of frustration. And then, it happened. The dam burst, and the power I had been struggling to contain exploded through my eyes.
The quarry was suddenly illuminated by a blinding flash of red light. The air rippled and crackled with the force of the released energy. The rocks and boulders that were hit exploded into a shower of dust and debris. It felt as if the very earth was trembling under the sheer force of the impact. I stood there, a lone figure in the midst of the chaos, my breath coming in short gasps as I tried to regain control. The echoes of the explosions rang in my ears, drowning out any other sound.
I stared at the destruction I had caused, aghast. The once-solid stone wall was now a molten, twisted mess. The intensity of the blast had melted and fused the rocks together, forming a twisted, lava-like flow that spread out like a fiery blanket. The ground itself was scorched and cracked, and the air was filled with the smoky scent of burnt earth.
This was another level entirely from the glasses exploding in my hand at breakfast.
My world shattered at that moment. The realization that I was capable of causing so much destruction with just a flicker of my eyes sent a wave of dread through me. The thought of what I could do if I lost control, the lives I could destroy, was almost too much to bear. I stumbled back, my legs weak with the weight of my own fears.
My knees finally gave out and I collapsed to the ground, my hands shaking in front of me. A deep sense of shame washed over me. I couldn't even trust myself to be around others anymore. How many people was I unknowingly putting in harm's way? My face contorted with agony as I tried to come to terms with what I had just done.
I had always suspected that I had this destructive power within me, simmering just beneath the surface. That's why I never allowed myself to give in to my emotions, to let them take control. But today, I had let my guard down, and the monster had broken free, leaving a trail of devastation in its wake.
My journey back home was a silent and solemn one. The bus ride seemed to last an eternity, the passengers chatting and laughing as if nothing in the world was wrong. I could hardly bring myself to look up, my mind still racing with the images of the destruction I had caused at the quarry. The thought of using my speed now filled me with dread.
As I entered the house, my mother was waiting for me in the living room. I made my way inside to see her sitting on the couch. Her red hair, peppered with white, a sign of the stress I had been causing her, was tied back in a loose bun. I tried to keep my composure, but as soon as she saw my face, she knew something was wrong.
She could see the turmoil in my eyes, and without a word, she pulled me into a tight embrace. Her familiar scent, a comforting blend of lavender and warmth, enveloped me. I let out a sob, unable to hold back the tears any longer. She ran her hand through my hair soothingly, whispering words of comfort, bringing me a momentary sense of relief.
I felt drained, emotionally and physically exhausted. But she told me that everything would be alright.
And for a moment, I believed her.