thewritingslut

[thewritingslut]

ABOUT MY ACCOUNT

⟡ — I write original contents mostly.

⟡ — I can / will take requests.

⟡ — I write all angst, smut, or fluff.

BASIC RULES

⟡ — I will not write anything I’m not comfortable with.

⟡ — no homophobia, racism, sexism, or ableism.

⟡ — If you request something, and I don’t see it / get to it quickly please politely remind me. I’ll do the best I can to get to requests as fast as possible.

⟡ — no fandom is off limits, but some may not be completely accurate if I don’t know the show / book / game (etc.) all that well.

[thewritingslut]

STORY — UNNAMED

TRIGGER WARNING — violence, school lockdown, mentions of discrimination.

AUTHORS NOTE — this is low-key buns, please give tips if having any!! first chapter

In a world of discrimination and hierarchy, I somehow managed to break into an industry that works against me.

Powers are common, yet some are not accepted. People are praised for certain qualities of their powers and degraded for others. Some people don’t have powers; they are punished for that by the system. Maybe the system of healthcare, or maybe they aren’t accepted because they aren’t seen as capable. Whatever it is, nothing was made to accept them.

Society isn’t pushing to be more accepting either; people often put themselves down to make it farther in high-paying industries they don’t structurally belong in. People with powers that are seen as villainous or scary, maybe odd or weird, tend to be shunned. They hide away their powers, tending to society’s norms set in place by people long before us.

I’m someone who has tended to society for as long as I can remember, my family too. Powers are hereditary, so if you're cursed with a ‘unique power,’ you are also cursing your kids, your bloodline. Cursing them to be bullied and rejected. Most of society has ‘plain’ powers, going about their lives, their powers being convenient in everyday life. Others have ones that put them on a ‘watch list’ being announced to everyone.

I’m one of those people, and so is my family. I got a mix of my mother's and father's powers, a mix that my little sister likes to call Cheshire, after the Cheshire Cat. I can make certain limbs disappear, disconnect them, split my voice, and make it seem like parts of me are still there even if I’m in a different place. Peers used to think it was interesting and cool; now it’s seen as creepy.

I’m on a watch list like the rest of my family because, according to the court of law, people like us are more than likely to become criminals. We’re seen as outlaws, and sometimes, I want to conform to that stereotype; I want to bring justice to people like me. My mother always said that would only make it worse, make people fear us more. I would be doing more harm than good.

So, I hid that feeling and continued to try and live normally. Although being on ‘the list’ makes it hard, my school knows it's on all my records. Since the moment my powers manifested was the moment it was put on all my lists. People also tend to ask, once I tell them, after being pressured, I get avoided. I watch others from a distance and keep to myself because of it.

—

“Eimi?” My teacher's voice rang out through the loud classroom. I slowly lifted my eyes from the assignment and put my gaze on her. A gentle smile graced her features, her head tilted slightly, making her glasses fall slightly off her nose bridge.

“Yes?” I inquired, my voice unsteady. Yet again, it never really was. I was sat in the front corner of the class, near her desk. My focus only on the assignment in front of me, tuning out my peers making noise around me. Ignoring the snide comments and remarks being made against me.

“You’re wanted in the front office.” She states softly, her tone gentle, just like her gaze. I slowly nod my head, and I stand up from my seat, walking out the door to head to the office. I bury my hands in the pockets of my hoodie, trying to ignore the cold atmosphere around me.

As I walk, I zone out, deep within my thoughts. Paying little attention to my surroundings, until I heard the voice over the intercom ring out throughout the hallways. I look up at the ceiling, listening, looking at the speaker posted above me.

“Lockdown, lockout, out of sight.” The intercom boomed out, and within seconds classrooms were locked, lights off, and I was stuck open and vulnerable in the hallway. I didn’t know where to go, or what to do. I stood, frozen in place. Until I heard footsteps from behind me.

I snapped my head back, quickly pressing myself up against the wall, being hidden by a locker poking out over me. I peeked my head out slightly, to see what could’ve made the footsteps. I’m met with the sight that it was put us in lockdown.

Unauthorized, and licensed ‘criminals’ using their powers in the school. I can see them using them on a classmate, one in my grade. I don’t know his name, but I know his face. The same face who threw food at me in the cafeteria, and destroyed what little reputation I had.

I debated watching, watching them put a possible end to his life. Yet, I do not feel that same burning sense of hatred towards him that I once did. I watch, my eyes tired but a bit wide as I do. My body seems to move on its own as if I’m trained to do so.

Throughout my technically illegal training sessions I put myself through, I’ve figured out I can use my powers to haze through someone's body to grab something, or to shock them for around thirty seconds. It leaves them with an uncomfortable cold feeling and nausea.

From what I can see, the assaulter is holding a weapon to the victim's chest. I can’t necessarily tell what it is though. Slowly, I take undetected steps, not because they're silent but, because they make small noises. I think I’m undetected because the assaulter is so focused.

In what feels like minutes, hours, maybe, I make it behind the assaulter. I haze my hands through the assaulter's body, taking the weapon with a strong tug. Catching both the people off guard, reacting to my instincts, I throw the weapon far away.

Taking my hands out of the assaulter's body, leaving them unharmed but left with an uncomfortable feeling. Although, the small moment of victory doesn’t seem to last long. I’m soon pressed up against a locker, being held up by my hoodie.

My feet off the ground, breath catching in my throat. I finally get a good look at the assaulted, a boy I recognize. One I’ve worked with a few times on assignments, someone also deemed a freak. He seems taken about by me defending his victim.

I look over at the victim, my eyes slightly narrowing at the sight. I guess I didn’t make it fast enough, he seems to be bleeding from the chest. I look at the assaulter, whose name is Inola. I give a grin, the rest of my body suddenly disappearing beside it.

I make it over to the victim, taking off my hoodie to wrap around the wound in a possible attempt to hold off major blood loss. The victim coughs up some blood, landing on my white tank top. My eyes widen slightly at the sight of it.

I look up at Inola, who’s loose at me with a disgusted, almost betrayed look. Although as we hold silent high contact he’s suddenly tackled by security. I watch in silence as yelling is heard around me, but it’s all overwhelming so I simply tune it out.

Soon, the victim was taken out of my arms, and police were around me, seemingly asked me questions yet I couldn't focus on them. I focus on Inola’s body being taken away in head cuffs, and how they’re rough with him. Giving him harsh words and threats. All I can do is stare.

WORD COUNT — 1,252

CHARACTER COUNT — 6,787