ii

~*~

And you do. Well, you were sleeping soundly, until a voice breaks your slumber.

“Hey, chick, you all right?” It's a male voice, and you open your eyes. The man is kneeling over your body, a cigarette dangling out of his lips. He pulls it out, and it hangs from his fingers. His face is older than yours, but you believe he would still be considered young. How old are you, anyways? It doesn't matter.

“Maybe she needs to be taken to the hospital, did you see her hands?” a female voice asks. You shift your vision left, and there is the girl. She is tall, her legs longer than anything else. Her hair is a striking pink, and it is curvy at the top, straight at the bottom. She too, looks older, but there's a softness to her face that comforts you.

“Yeah, those are definitely burn marks,” the man says, rubbing his chin. “Hey, she's awake.”

You stir, sitting up slowly and squinting at the sun hanging high in the sky. Ypu hold a hand up to try to block the light, but with little use.

“Hey, girl, what's your name?” the female asks, kneeling down to your eye level. You rub your hands together, ignoring the pain from the burns. It's gotten worse.

“Thief,” you say, your tongue feeling heavy. The female fingers a lock of your hair, tilting her head.

“Your hair's pretty. Where did you get it dyed?” she asks softly, probably trying to comfort you. Her tongue has a glint in it, a piercing.

“Dunno,” you slur. You rub your eyes with your palm, knowing whatever sleep you got was not enough. Besides, you're hungry again. Great. You don't think you can go back to the Chinese restauraunt, even if you are now the Thief. Maybe you should somehow get money. Perhaps you can steal from these people. “It is natural.”

“I'm Mizzy,” the girl says, outstretching her arm. You grasp her wrist, and shake it. You know that this was the right thing to do, you're sure of it. The girl exhanges a glance with the boy, and nudges him with her elbow. “Introduce yourself.”

The guy smashes his cigarette against the gravel, rolling his eyes. “I'm Jaxx. And you're damn lucky we found you, I'm pretty sure there were cops looking for you. They've been asking around for a 'silver haired girl'. Says something about a theft and destruction of pier property. So, Thief, is that you?” his tone is accusatory, and he glares at you.

You gulp, and nod. “I was hungry. No money,” you say. Your English needs work. You hug yourself, trying to protect your body from these people.

“How old are you?” Mizzy asks, patting my shoulder. You shrug, and a lock of your hair falls back behind your ear.

“I have been asking me that. I do not know,” you admit, feeling embaressed of your stupidity. Mizzy hums, analyzing your entire body.

“I would put her at about fifteen, wouldn't you say?” she is asking Jaxx this, not you. You can't really say anything about the matter, so you pick a thread at your sweatshirt. Jaxx scoffs, pulling out another cigarette.

“Who knows? Yeah, around fifteen or something. Why should we care?”

Yes, you wonder. Why should they care? Appararently you are only a fifteen year old female with polite manners and not so good English, just squatting in an alleyway after burning down a boat with her light powers and stealing some food.

“Because, we're taking her back with us to the Underground,” Mizzy announces, stomping her purple boots against the gravel. Jaxx groans, shoving his black hair back with his free hand, glaring down at you.

“Fine. Take the freaky girl home to mommy her,” Jaxx huffs, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Just don't expect me to fuss over her.”

“Oh, but you will,” Mizzy says, pulling you up and hugging you against her side. You only come up to her hip. “Even if she is four years younger than us, which you hate, you have to admit, she's a mystery. Besides, it would be rebelling against the law. And you loooove that.” She rolls her the word 'love' with a ripple of her body.

Jaxx sniffs pretentiously. “Whatever.” he begins walking further out of the alleyway, staring at the bright sky. “Just don't get her arrested. And look at that burn mark.”

The burn mark is extremely painful. It always stings more when they glance at it, and when you examine it, you notice it's swelling, with puss leaking out of it in a truly disguisting manner. You sneer at the sight, and hope it's not infected at all. Mizzy clucks her tongue in a sympathetic manner, reaching her hand out and touching your shoulder. You take a large step back, shaking your head defiantly. “What if I do not want come to you and him house?” you ask, stumbling over each word. You mentally slap yourself, you know the words you are trying to say, but there's something keeping you from letting them out right. Jaxx tilts his head to the side, and cautiously approaches you, like you are a wild animal in a metal cage. He stares straight into your eyes; his are a striking green, like the bottom of a sea. Your eyes are a boring grey, and you envy his. His gaze is strictly curiosity.

“Can you speak English?” he asks slowly.

“Yes. No. I do not know,” you admit, fidgeting under his steel gaze. Thoughts flash through his mind, you can see the redflection of his thinking in his pupils.

“What do you know?” Jaxx ponders, more to himself than you. Still, you feel a need to answer it.

“Nothing. My memory gone.” You stomach rumbles loudly, and you frown. If there really are cops around, can you steal more? You do not want to go to jail, you just got free. Whatever that means. “I am hungry, though. If...if I go with you, will you feed me? I know that's something big to ask, but please?”

“What can you give us?” Jaxx asks accusingly. Mizzy scoffs, horrified at his question, and wraps her long arms around you. She smelled like cinnamon with butter, and artificial perfume. It stings your nostrils. Her skin is the color of diluted cocoa, also. Like someone poured too much milk in the mug.

“She doesn't have to-” Mizzy starts, but you cut her off.

“I have something to give you,” you burst. “I think. I mean, it might be helpful. But you have to feed me, yes?”

“Yeah, sure,” Jaxx says, eyebrows furrowing together. He bites his thumb fingernail, spittle leaking out down his arm. “Come on, Thief,” he says, and you are glad you picked that name for yourself.

Taking you down twisting streets and gravelling roads in broad daylight was interesting, to say the least. Jaxx fingered the flowers you strolled past, gently brushing the bright petals resting in the brick boxes. Mizzy pushes him along, grumbling about having a schedule to stick to. You peer at the flowers as well, and pull a purple one out of the dirt with a slight tug. The stem breaks in half, and all you're left with is the head.

“It's a lilac,” Jazz notes, nodding his head. “Smell it.” Hesitantly, you press your nose to it and inhale deeply. You gag, tossing the flower to the ground and sneezing several times. Mizzy sweeps you into her arms, pressing your head against her bosom in an extremely uncomfortable way.

“Poor thing must be allergic!” she cooes. You cough, squirming against the grasp and staring at Jaxx in desperation for him to help. He shakes his head, smirking.

“Can we please keep moving?” You guys are making a scene, as passers by stare at your wheezing. You have no idea what 'allergic' means, but you don't care right now. Mizzy nods, grabbing your hand and tugging you along. You feel like a young child, and you stumble along with her as she rambles on about having to be more careful. Jaxx balances on the concrete fences surrounding the partment buildings, stuffing his hands into his pockets and offering no help to your situation. You wander into the more 'cheap' part of the city, with crumbling buildings and coughing civilians surrounding crappy fires. You keep your head down, kicking a stray peddle further and further down the road. Your flimsy little sweatshirt still packs in heat, and sweat pools under your armpits and on your forehead. Finally, finally, finally, they stop you to walk up a sidewalk leading to a short apartment building.

Jaxx buzzes the intercom, on a button labled '-1', and a crackling voice comes to life.

“Password?”

Jaxx sneers, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “F**k that, let us in.”

“Correct,” the voice hums. “But who's the girl?”

You flinch, scrambling behind Mizzy's protextive stance. If you want to be tougher, you're going to have to work on your additude. “She's someone who is in need of help.”

“Uninterested,” the voice said coldly.

“She has something to show us in exchange for food,” Mizzy adds. A loud sigh comes from the intercom.

“Jaxx,” the voice starts. “What do you think of this?” Mizzy seems slightly offended by this, but Jaxx shrugs like this is a common occurance.

“House her, feed her, whatever. She doesn't chatter on all that much about nerdy s**t, unlike you, so I don't really care either way.” A pause. “She also has an injury. You go bonkers over that stuff, man.”

The door buzzes, and they push you down a squeaky set of stairs, with only a single ligthtbulb ahead to illuminate where you are going. Mizzy grabs your hand and leads the way. You roll your eyes, not even bothering to protest this. Jaxx glares and huffs his way down, and you feel like kicking him even if he just helped you out. Mizzy pulls a necklace from her shirt with an array of keys hanging off of it. She shifts through them, finally picking the small brown one with 'O' carved into it with crude precision. She inserts it into the keyhole, that has a piece of white duct tape above it and the words 'ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK' wirrten in sharpie.

Mizzy ignores the warning, and pushes the door open with her shoulder. You all smash in, taking a deep breath.

This is a laundry room. At least, it sounds like one. The rumble rumble in the corner, the hums rising from the floor to the ceiling. Everything is made of concrete, and there's a drip drip in the west corner. There are space heaters prickling at your skin, and you shiver once. It feels...homely. There are desks lined up on one side, with multiple PC computers lined up and powered up. A tall lanky man is typing away on one of them, pushing his black square glasses up occasionally and pushing his hair to the side. He breathes from his mouth, inbetween chews on his pen.

“Cole, tear your eyes away from the damn screen and look at her hand,” Mizzy snaps. Cole jumps slightly, turning in his chair and putting down his pen. He leans forward, and scoots his chair towards you. Mizzy scoffs, and whirls off towards the mini refridgerator in the corner, turning on the cheap stove next to it. “You're getting chicken noddle, that fine with you?” she asks you.

You nod meekly, still watching the man, Cole, with hesitation. She nods, clicking open a can of soup.

“Don't be afraid of him, he's just a nerd,” Jaxx says, sitting down at another computer and opening a word document to type. Cole coughs, glaring at Jaxx before delicately taking your hand. He pushes his glasses up again, turning it over and delicately putting pressure in different places.

“Tell me when it hurts.” His voice is deep and smooth, like a cat's purr. “How old is she?”

“We think fifteen,” Mizzy pipes up, dumping the soup into a green pan.

Cole hums, applying more pressure. You flinch, attempting to tug away your hand. He furrows his brows. “Sorry.” He clicks his tongue, bringing your hand closer to his vision. “Second degree burn, deep partial thickness. Will heal, if I apply the right cream.” He drops your hand, rolling towards the cabinet underneath the desk with his spinny chair, opening the second drawer and tossing a white bottle towards you after rummaging through it. You catch it with your good hand, twisting open the cap and oozing the thick liquid onto the burn. It cools instantly, and you shiver with the sensation.

“Thank you,” you choke out, and you offer it back to Cole.

“Keep it, and apply it twice a day.” You nod, stuffing it back into your sweatshirt pocket. “What's her name?” he queries, turning to Mizzy.

“Ask her,” Mizzy replies. “She can speak, you just heard her.”

“Call me Thief,” you say.

“I'm Cole Nestor,” he says, reaching out a hand. You start to shake with your left, but it's still sticky from the cream, so you offer the other one. You shake his wrist. “Have these two told you what we do here?” You shake your head. “We're hackers.” You have no idea what that means, but you nod your head, attempting to look interested. “We have some name, but it's stupid and we rarely use it. I'm getting my degree in Computer Engineering, but my father was a doctor, and I read all of the medical books. That probably would have been my major, but you know, life's weird that way.”

“Cole?” Jaxx pipes up, still typing.

“Yeah?” he says, turning.

“No one cares. Especially an amnesiac fifteen year old.”

Amnesiac. You have to remember that word. “She has no memory? That's interesting, you should have told me that instead of this little burn.”

“What's more interesting is how she got that 'little burn',” Jaxx says, barely even glancing at you. Your breath hitches, and your eyes bulge. How did he know about your power? About the incident at the docks? About everything?

“How do you know what happened?” Mizzy asks, pouring the heated soup into a bowl.

“I don't.” Jaxx finally turns around, resting his hands on the desk. “But that little reaction she gave at the notion of me knowing says it all.”

Your shoulders slump. You were hoping they would forget about what you said earlier, and just let you eat and move along.

Cole rubs the stubble on his chin, humming softly. “What happened, Thief?” You stare at your shoes, fiddling your thumbs.

“Let her eat first,” Mizzy interrupts. “It was the deal.” Relief washes over you, and you almost gallop to the small card table with your hot bowl of soup on it. She hands you a plastic spoon, and you scoop up a bunch of noodles to shove into your mouth.

“You don't talk much, do you?” Cole asks, standing up and walking over to the chair opposite of you. You shake your head, mouth full of food. You also don't find it polite to speak with your mouth full, so there's that.

“We have a suspicion she doesn't speak much English.” Mizzy opens a crossword puzzle and sits next to you.

“Is it true?” Cole is still speaking to you. You appreciate that, you really do.

“I think I know the words. It's making them in sentences hard,” you say.

Cole nods. “Maybe she has a mental disorder?” this time she speaks to Mizzy.

“Probably not. She's clever,” Jaxx speaks again. You blink. You don't think you are, even a little bit. Jaxx glares at you. “Don't try to hide it, girl. You're wary, and you know when to hide things.”

“And you are nosy, assume too much,” you snap, annoyed that he just says things about you. Cole snorts.

“She doesn't have an accent,” he notes. You gulp up what's left of the broth, wiping your mouth with your sleeve.

“Thank you,” you tell Mizzy. She smiles, looking up from her crossword. You sigh, standing up and squinting at the three older people in the room. “Before I show you, can I ask questions for you now?”

They all glance at eachother, and nod.

“How old?” They always wonder about your age, might as well know there's.

“I'm twenty-two, Mizzy and Jaxx are nineteen,” Cole says. “The others are twenty.”

“Others?” you echo. As soon as you speak, the door bursts open, and the 'others' stride into the room, holding up their hands in a dramatic manner. One is female, you're sure of it, and has many tears and holes in her light blue jeans. Her hair is blue, that ripples in perfect ringles down her back. Her eyes are rimmed with heavy black eyeliner, and there are five piercings on her face. Two in each ear, one in her nose. She's grinning widely, with shows a row of white teeth perfectly shaped. Her nose is crooked, though, as if it had been broken many times. She makes eye contact with you, and her irises have a very fake sea blue color. Not breaking the eye contact, it causes extreme uncomfort in you.

The other is male. With striking black hair with blonde highlights, his hair is greasy and unappealing. The vest over a white t-shirt contrasts the grangy clothing everyone else is wearing, especially paired with formal black jeans. There are swirls of red tattoos going up his forearms, like fire licking the at the skin. No piercings within sight, he by far is the most respectable looking, which doesn't put you at ease. He doesn't look at you, he's staring at your hind. You quietly put it behind your back.

“Ta-dah!” they both cheer, waving their fingers.

“Thespians,” Jaxx snorts, going back to the computer.

“Mercutio,” the male announces. “But call me Tio, please.” He approaches you, circling you and inspecting all of the nurmerous sides. He clucks his tongue. “You seem nice enough. Are you apart of the leftover scraps begging for the work of a computer 'engineer'?” The air quotation marks he puts around engineer is unsettling.

“I'm sorry?” You c**k your head, unsure what he is talking about.

“Ignore him, he's trying to be literate,” the girl says, walking up next to Tio. “I'm Julliet. We were outside of the door for about seven minutes waiting for you to mention us. Took you long enough, you guys are jerks.” She directed the last statement at Cole, who shrugged and waited for a response from me.

“Shakespeare,” you say instantly. Why? You don't know what a 'shakespeare' is, and why you would even mention it at that moment. You're not even sure you care. “Are they trustworthy?” you ask Cole.

Cole nods, smiling slightly. “Go ahead, you can ask questions later, promise. I don't think those two are going to be able to wait, they're known for their impatient manner.”

You nod as well, short and quick. You are nervous. Taing out your injured hand again, you whip your head towards the bare bulb hanging above the card table. You close your eyes, breathing once through your nose, inhaling and controlling your energy flow. You feel your emotions ebb and flow, as you cuatiously reach and raise your hand above your head. The light particles from the bulb tickle your fingertips as the energy senses your presence. Waving your fingers with the gradient of light energy, you coax the light out. Everyone's eyes widen as a stream of light wraps around your hand, escaping the bulb and leaving it empty. It's pure light, and if anyone else were to touch it their hands would be scarred black. Even now, you can feel the heat scald the still healing wound. The dark room illuminating your movements, you exhale, slowly wisking the light in and around everyone's head, at eye level, to let them appreciate the sparks. Your own energy is quickly draining, and your hand starts to burn again. Quickly, you release the light back into the bulb, squeezing your eyes shut and hitting the floor with a thud.

~*~

“Should we wake her up?” Mizzy voice is light and laced with worry. You can barely hear her, like there is a thick fog in between you two and she is whispering.

“Let her wake up on her own.” Cole's purring voice. “We have no idea what this, power, let's call it, does, so perhaps waking her up from this slumber could be dangerous.”

“What's her name?” Tio's voice is deep and rumbling. Murmurs from Jaxx. “Can't remember anything?” he asks, after a few moments.

“Her hand is worse,” Julliet notes. You don't like the name. You think you'll call her Letty. Or Let. There's time for nicknames later. “Look at it, it's almost pulsing red.”

“The pain will probably be unbearable when she wakes up,” Cole notes. “Hey, Mizzy, get the sedative pills from my second drawer.”

Thumps and crashes. Soon a calloused finger is parting your lips open and shoving a small circular thing into your mouth. The fog is growing thicker and you fall into the darkness again.

Author's Note

Unedited, really terrible right now, written in a month, nanowrimo, etc etc etc.

Reviews

[roarke]

I can see this is gonna be huge.