Genesis, Part V
Okay, so I’ve determined that I have superpowers… What now? Do I tell someone? Do I not tell anyone? Do I join some special school and play basketball with a guy that throws fireballs? Cid asked himself as he made his way to his final class of the day.
I can’t believe that I’m even thinking about this! Okay, so two weeks ago, I’m getting decked by King. Flip-flop those roles now. Four weeks ago, I was in a hospital. Five weeks ago, I was the alienated child of two workaholic parents. Just how does this happen?Cid asked himself as he took his seat.
“Good morning class, I…” the teacher began. Cid, however, was not paying attention to what the teacher was saying. He was still perplexed by his current situation.
Okay, so far I can jump really high, flip like a gymnast, and put cracks in brick walls… ow… my hand still hurts from that.Cid told himself.
Before he knew it, the bell rang for the school day was over. Cid was out of the door before the teacher knew it.
As he was walking home, Cid made his best attempt at piecing his life together.
He didn’t have much time before he heard a series of screams coming from behind.
“Outta my way kid!” a man yelled, knocking Cid over as he bolted down the street.
A male voice yelled after the man. “Get back here with my stuff!” he yelled, but the burglar was quickly escaping his pursuer.
Don’t be a hero. Don’t be a hero Cid…Cid tried to tell himself, but he ultimately decided to be a hero.
This is going straight to the top of my bad ideas list. Is it some rule that people with superpowers have to chase after burglars? Cid told himself as he ran after the burglar. He quickly realized how fast he was running, easily faster than he had ever run before. Catching the burglar, he quickly dispatched him and grabbed the bag the he was holding.
“Drop the bag!” the burglar’s pursuer shouted from further down the street. As he approached, Cid quickly noticed the dull silver of a small handgun being removed from the man’s jacket.
“This isn’t what it looks like!” Cid shouted, dropping the bag and throwing his hands in the air.
“You stupid kids, thinking that you can just take whatever you want. Next generation my a**. I’ll show you a next generation,” the man grumbled, stalking towards Cid like a madman.
“This isn’t what it looks like!” Cid reiterated. Too late, he found himself dodging bullets and attempting to get away from the deranged gunman at the same time. Jumping in the air, he managed to land on the roof of a nearby house.
Cid watched quietly as the gunman searched his immediate surroundings for him. Losing track of Cid, the gunman grabbed his bag and fled in the direction that they had come, leaving the burglar laying in the street.
Once he was free from danger, Cid jumped down from the roof. Upon landing on the ground, a searing pain shot up Cid’s side. Instinctively grabbing his side, he quickly noticed that he had not been quick enough to completely dodge one particular bullet.
Wooziness set in as Cid surveyed his shirt, which was quickly becoming bloodstained. Oh s***… Oh S***!!! He shot me! He SHOT me! Wait… did I just DODGE bullets? Why am I actuallysurprisedthat I got shot? Ouch… he SHOT me!!!Cid groaned to himself as he tried to pull the burglar out of the street.
Upon moving the burglar to the sidewalk, Cid began to walk away. Why are the streets always empty when stupid stuff is happening to me? Cid told himself as he noticed the complete lack of people on the street.
Cid slowly shambled onto another street, wondering why no one cared that he was obviously injured. Once he reached a familiar street, he zombie-shambled into a dark alley. Everything that you DON’T do in horror movies.Cid told himself as he propped himself up against a dumpster under the lone streetlamp on the street. “Gotta call King,” Cid stated as he reached for his phone, the wooziness in his head slowly increasing.
Cid only had enough time to press the send button on his phone and mutter a weak “Help…” before he faded into darkness and slumped against the dumpster.
He found himself waking up in a cold sweat in his own bed. Pain shot through his side as he was cruelly reminded of the wound he sustained only hours ago. He once again reached down at his side, and felt a heavy gauze bandage where he had found a bloodstained shirt earlier.
It was at this point where he realized that he also had a major headache. He rolled over in his bed, with a roll that looked more like a butt shuffle than anything else. He checked the clock, 3:03am. At that point, the door opened.
King stepped into the room, carrying a huge plastic box of what were clearly medical materials. “Oh darn, you’re awake. You aren’t afraid of needles, are you?” he asked with a cynical laugh, placing the box on the bed.
Cid shook his head no until he saw the size of the needles. “On second thought, I think I might be afraid of needles,” he stated.
“Too bad!” King shouted as he quickly removed the dressings from Cid’s side, revealing a train track pattern of stitches adorning a gash that ran for about 8 inches in a diagonal direction.
Cid watched as King quickly cleaned and treated the still-fresh wound. “Okay, now I’m going to numb you up again,” King stated as he dabbled a clear liquid onto a towel. He pressed the towel against his side, which sent a dull, throbbing pain throughout Cid’s entire body. The pain slowly subsided as the sharp, searing pain returned around the scar.
King removed one of the larger needles. Cid’s heart stopped as he saw him fill the chamber with a clear liquid. Cid found himself instinctively retreating from the needle as King finished prepping it.
“Don’t be a child, Cid,” King said as he deftly grabbed Cid and slid the needle into his side with minimal effort.
Cid felt his side erupt with a burning sensation for a brief second before all the pain in his side disappeared and was replaced with a dull numbness. “Wow…” Cid muttered as he began vigorously poking the gruesome scar on his side without fear of causing more pain.
“What the F*** are you doing, Cid? Really? REALLY?” King asked as he slapped Cid upside his head.
Cid recoiled from the blow. “Ow! I was just poking it, man! What was that for?” Cid asked.
King shook his head. “Do you WANT it to start bleeding again? I’m not replacing those stitches if they come out,” he stated as he began to replace the bandages that he had removed earlier.
“Hmmmmm… I guess I didn’t think about that,” Cid said.
“And you probably weren’t thinking before you got shot either,” King stated.
Cid reflected over the events that led to his waking up in his own bed with several stitches and bandages adorning his wounded side. “How did I end up here?” Cid asked.
“How did you get shot?” King asked in response.
Cid scrambled to make up a story. “Well I was walking across the street and this guy mugged me and then shot me,” Cid stated.
“Cid, you are a terrible liar,” King stated, finishing the second layer of bandages. “What really happened?” he asked again.
“That’s what really happened,” Cid asserted.
“Cid, if he was mugging you, he would’ve been shooting you at point-blank range. You would not have received a grazing wound from a mugger. So what REALLY happened?” King asked.
“I tried to stop a burglar, but he shot at me before I could catch him,” Cid stated, still trying to avoid telling his guardian the truth. The partial truth seemed to be enough for King, however, as he finished the last layer of bandages and began to leave. He stopped at the door to say one last thing.
“I’m not your father, Cid, so I have no intentions of trying to get the truth out of you. However, I would like to suggest moving a little quicker next time,” he stated, leaving the room.
Cid found himself staring at the now empty door. What did he just say? Did he just ask me to ‘move a little quicker next time’? How did I even get here? Wait… HE NEVER ANSWERED MY QUESTION!!!Cid screamed in his head, frustrated that he didn’t press King for an answer.
Cid’s outfit the following school day consisted of the only shirt that he had that was three sizes too large and the only pants that he had that were three sizes too large. Ronnie quickly noticed the blimp clothes, and immediately dropped to the hallway floor laughing his head off. Celine seemed to immediately see that something was wrong, and did her best to try to find out what’s wrong.
“Cid, why are you wearing those ridiculous clothes?” she asked as she tried to ignore the snickering idiot rolling on the floor at her feet.
Cid avoided her intense and critical glare. “Nothing’s wrong. I felt like wearing some comfortable clothes today,” he stated.
Celine’s eyes narrowed. “Cid, you are a terrible liar. And the fact that you are lying only makes it more obvious that something’s wrong,” she declared.
Meanwhile, Ronnie was catching his breath and picking himself up off of the floor. Dusting himself off, he appraised Cid’s ridiculous appearance a second time. “He’s hiding something, Celine,” he stated in a rare moment of insight.
Celine shot him a puzzled look. “What makes you think that?” she asked.
Ronnie frowned, “One of my foster siblings did the same thing when she was cutting herself. She would wear clothes that were too large, cover up all her skin, and avoid eye contact when we asked about it,” he said.
Cid felt the air around them become tense.Uh oh… My friends are getting suspicious…he told himself as he slowly retreated. “I’ll see you guys afterschool!” he shouted, already halfway down the hallway, despite the fact that his pants were falling down, and leaving his friends with suspicious looks on their faces.
The walk home consisted of Cid deflecting questions from his friends about his outfit. Celine and Ronnie even followed him to his house instead of remaining at their own respective houses as they passed them.
“I don’t cut myself, you guys,” Cid stated.
“Surrrre ya don’t,” Ronnie said.
“Then what is it?” Celine asked.
“It’s nothing,” Cid reasserted.
“It’s not,” Ronnie countered.
“Is that guy hitting you, Cid?” Celine asked, referring to King.
“No! King is the only reason I’m alive right now!” Cid screamed. At that moment, he realized that he had made a mistake in saying that because now his two best friends gave him shocked and suspicious looks.
Ronnie grabbed Cid from behind and put him in a full nelson. “What’s going on, Cid? I’m your best friend, for Pete’s sake. If you aren’t going to tell me what’s wrong, then we aren’t moving any further,” he stated.
Cid had been in this spot before, but for whatever reason, Ronnie’s grip seemed surprisingly weak, like he was barely touching him. Cid began to break Ronnie’s grasp. Ronnie’s frustration and shock was evident on his face as Cid broke his hold for the first time ever.
“Dude, when did you get so strong?” he asked, a wary stare in his eyes.
Celine shot Cid a concerned look, and at the same time tried to avoid Ronnie’s stare. She knows why I’m stronger…Cid told himself, remembering the encounter with the thugs in the alley.At least she THINKS she knows…
Cid ultimately realized that he had yet to respond to his best friend’s statement. “I’ve been working out with King,” Cid stated, lying to his best friend. He smiled, another lie forming in his head. “As a matter of fact, I just have a really bad bruise on my side from my self-defense training with him,” he continued with a wide grin.
Ronnie seemed to buy the story. Celine didn’t, but she shrugged and accepted the story, at least for now.
They dropped Cid off, and they went back in the direction of Celine’s house.
When Cid opened the door, King was waiting for him with the tray of medical supplies in his arms. “Sit,” he commanded, motioning to a chair at the kitchen table.
Cid groaned. “Do we have to do this again?” he asked.
King sighed. “If you don’t want to get that wound infected and DIIIIE…” he responded, emphasizing the last word. He approached Cid with the box of medical supplies.
Cid groaned again. “I’m never getting shot again,” he declared as he slowly removed his shirt, revealing his blood-soaked bandages.
“Don’t move around so much. You’re reopening your wounds,” King stated as he quickly removed the bandages and prepped the scar for the new bandages.
Cid wasn’t about to forget to ask his question. “So how did I end up in my room with a perfectly stitched up gunshot wound?” Cid asked.
King chuckled. “How did you get shot?” he asked for the umpteenth time.
“Why do you keep asking me thi--- YEEEOWWWCH!!!” Cid screamed as King stuffed the needle into the wound, causing the burning sensation to return to his side.
“If you really must know, I retrieved you from your ill-chosen hiding spot and stitched you up myself. The patchwork was simple enough, 23 stitches in total. Now I wouldn’t suggest that you actually get hit by the bullet, as I don’t actually have too much practice with that type of surgery,” King stated.
Cid was awestruck. Of course it was King… How else would he know how to treat the wound? He told himself, smacking himself in the forehead in the process.
“So now you’re a doctor? Where did you learn to do that?” he asked King.
“Where did I learn to do what?” King asked in response.
“Where did you learn to treat wounds like this?” Cid asked, poking at his side.
“You learn a lot of interesting stuff in 54 years of life, kid,” King stated, finishing the bandages that once again adorned the wound.
“But HOW did you learn that? Were you a doctor or something in the past?” Cid asked.
King gathered his medical supplies and prepared to leave the room. “We all have pasts, Cid. I’d rather not talk about mine,” he said as he began to leave.
Cid watched as King opened the door to a special elevator and disappeared behind it. Cid eyed the big steel door as it closed. Where does that elevator go?He asked himself. He had never opened the door nor dared to ask about it.
He stood up and walked towards the door. He grabbed the large steel handle that seemed so very foreign and menacing to him, and gave it a tug. Of course it’s locked…Cid stated, as he applied more pressure to the handle in a vain effort to make it move. At least he THOUGHT it was a vain effort.
After the fifth tug, the twenty pound dead bolted door handle flew off of the door. The handles inertia carried it and Cid’s hand over his head. Upon reaching the apex of his arm, the handle went flying, smashing into and obliterating the defenseless microwave where it stood.
Cid screamed in shock as he ran over to inspect the situation. Ohhhhhh mannnnn… ohmanohmanohman…Cid muttered to himself as he tried to piece the microwave back together, failing epically in the process.
At that moment, he began to hear the elevator returning from its unknown destination. “Oh s***...” Cid moaned to himself as he heard his impending doom approaching from the basement.
He grabbed the door handle and dashed across the room to try to replace it on the door. Once again he failed epically, as the handle fell from his hands and onto his foot. Cid screamed in pain, but stifled it as the elevator reached the top of its path.
In a final desperate attempt to avoid capture, Cid grabbed the handle and broken microwave pieces and limped as fast as he could to his bedroom. Upon entering his room, he hid both under a pile of clothes that he had pulled from his dresser, effectively creating a conspicuous mountain of crap on his bed.
The second he finished creating Mt. Cleverless, King appeared in Cid’s doorway.
Upon entering the room, King immediately noticed Mt. Cleverless. “I’m going to go ahead and assume that you just tried to hide the microwave and elevator door handle under those clothes right there,” he stated. “So why the f*** would you try to hide that stuff under a pile of clothes like I wouldn’t see it? More importantly, how did you even break the handle in the first place and why were you trying to get into the elevator?”
Cid wasn’t sure what scared him more, the idea of telling King about his newfound enhanced strength or King’s complete lack of concern for the mutilated microwave. He smiled as a brilliant idea formed in his head. “We all have pasts, King. I’d rather not talk about mine!” he stated with a confident smirk.
That smile was quickly erased when he found himself in a headlock. Cid tried to fight out of it, but he could quickly feel the strength leaving his body. “There’s no point in fighting!” King screamed with a crazed chuckle. “I’m applying pressure to your pressure points. You can’t move right now. Just tell me how you broke the handle,” he stated.
Cid, realizing that every escape effort failed miserably, decided to tell the truth. “I… have superpowers!” he grunted.
King released Cid and he fell to the floor in a limp heap. “Ya know, you’re a bully,” Cid stated.
King cracked his knuckles. “And you are a disrespectful teenager that doesn’t know how my rules work. And the whole superpowers joke wasn’t funny. Learn to tell the truth Cid. It could save your life someday,” he said as he left the room.
Once again, Cid found himself with another question left unanswered. Why did he just leave like that? If he thought I was lying, then why did he release me and leave without another question? He asked himself as his body came back to life and he pulled himself to his feet.
Cid found himself waking up with cold sweat for the second night in a row. He dragged himself out of bed and quickly found out that he was wide awake. I won’t be sleeping anymore tonight…he told himself as he changed out of his wet clothes and into the clothes that he knew he would be wearing to school, a black thermal style shirt and blue jeans.
He tried watching TV, but he found that his room was unbearably hot for some reason, which ruined his interest in the TV. He removed his shirt, which accomplished nothing, and decided to look for a better climate. He tiptoed through the house in an attempt to find cool air while trying his best to ensure that King remained asleep. Upon realizing that theentire housewas hot, he stepped outside onto the roof. Frigid air assaulted his face as Jack Frost gave him a brutal welcome to the Crystal Springs cityscape. However, the air felt oddly relaxing to Cid as he put his shirt back on and went back downstairs so he could take a walk in the city.
What am I even doing here?He asked himself as he walked amongst the bustling city-goers, despite the fact that it was well past 1 a.m. in the morning.
He looked at the roofs of a series of shorter buildings amongst the skyscrapers. His thought process dragged him into an alley between two of those shorter buildings. He found himself thinking the unthinkable. I’m going to jump on top of that roof…He told himself, the fire of determination in his eyes. I’ve done this once before. I don’t remember how, but I did it. Now I’m actually going to try.He told himself as he did a couple of practice squats to test his leg strength.
With a wry smile, Cid squatted and pushed off from the ground. A scream of elation briefly escaped his throat as he realized that the frigid wind stabbing at his face and the disappearing ground below him indicated that he had accomplished his goal. He instinctively tumbled in the air to break his ascension and assure that he hit his mark. As he descended to the roof, he attempted a smooth landing by somersaulting, but he instead flopped like a fish and crashed into a pile of conveniently placed cardboard boxes. He grunted as the wind left his lungs and a stinging pain reverberated through his side.
Undeterred, he quickly pulled himself to his feet. Okay, I’d give myself a solid five out of ten for that one.He told himself as he sprung into the air towards a second, slightly taller, building. Instead of landing, he propelled himself off of the second roof and onto the third roof in a complicated series of flips and somersaults. This time, he stuck the landing, and rose to his feet with a celebratory screech. “THAT was a ten!” Cid screamed as he fist-pumped the sky.
Cid was beginning to get the hang of this. He flipped and jumped and somersaulted over the roofs of the city buildings, even daring himself to jump from skyscraper roof to skyscraper roof. He laughed with elation excitement as he effortlessly jumped from roof to roof. Upon returning to his starting point, he allowed himself to plummet into the alley, easily reaching a safe landing upon his return to the ground.
After thirty more minutes of useless wandering in the city streets, Cid decided that he had had enough late-night fun for one night. He began his trek back to the penthouse, but a disturbing fumbling sound in his stomach forced him to stop at a gas station for food. As he was searching for a drink, he heard the shrill cry of a woman in peril. He turned around to see that several hooded figures had entered the store, and one was aiming a gun at the store cashier.
Cid frowned as he surveyed the situation. Why does this always happen to me? Why does this type of stuff always happen to ME?He told himself as one of the figures approached him.
“On the ground,” the figure commanded, pointing his own gun at Cid.
This command angered Cid. He instinctively narrowed his eyes as he felt the excitement produced by the adrenaline beginning to course through his veins. I’m not going to let this happen again. I’m tired of being the victim. I’m tired of the bad guys winning. I’m tired of people getting hurt. You’ve been given gifts Cid. At some point we all have to grow up, and your time is NOW.He told himself, the fire of determination returning to his eyes.
“I’m going to ask you one more time,” the figure growled.
Cid didn’t give him a chance to ask again. A punch to the jaw, followed by a punch to the gut quickly disarmed the man. The two other guys in the store, hearing the commotion, moved to find out what happened.
Cid removed the first burglar’s ski mask that he had been wearing and placed it over his own head. He gagged as the smell of must and sweat assaulted his nostrils.
At that moment, the lights in the store went out. The immediate darkness caused the remaining two burglars to panic and fire several rounds into the darkness. Cid heard people scream as glass and plastic shattered around them. Move your fucking body Cid or someone’s going to get hurt,he told himself as grabbed the nearest standing figure.
Success! He had grabbed the second burglar. In a brief panic, the burglar tried to fire off another round, but Cid knocked the gun out of his hand before he had the chance too. Another body shot disabled the second burglar.
Two down. One to go.Cid told himself as a confident smirk formed across his face. Fighting, just like skyscraper parkour, was becoming natural to him.
The last burglar was in a fully fledged panic. Upon seeing his second comrade lying unconscious on the floor, he screamed and ran out the front door, fleeing into the night. At that point, the lights returned. Cid found himself staring at the terrified storeowner. “Just take the money, man,” the storeowner moaned, throwing the cash in the cash register at Cid.
Cid ignored the cash and started towards the door. “Something had to be done. I would’ve wanted someone to help me if I was in trouble. It’s about time someone took a stand,” Cid stated. And with that, he dashed out of the store himself.
Cid still felt the effects of fresh adrenaline coursing through his veins when he returned to the penthouse. Upon entering the house, he noticed that he was still wearing the mask he had stolen from one of the burglars. He removed it and tossed it behind his bed when he entered his room.
I stopped those guys! I saved those people in the store, just like I saved Celine that night.Cid told himself as he finally returned to his bed at 4am. For the first time in his life, Cideion Rogers had taken a stand against the misfortunes of his life. As he fell asleep, he quickly realized that he had answered the call of duty. For at least one night, he had become more than a teenage boy.
For at least one night, Cideion Amadeus Rogers was a hero…
TO BE CONTINUED