🥇🥇Winner of the Indian legion awards
"With great power comes suicide attempts, social anxiety, and the itch to live as a normal black teenager."
Mitch Palmer started college as an attempt to live a normal life but that mistake brought back secret...
If I ever got out of this weird ass story and asked you to define me, what would be your response?
Would you say that I'm a load of horny garbage who doesn't even know if she wants her former twelve year old life back or just wants to be free of mommy issue trauma and super power shits.
Maybe you'd probably just say I'm a wannabe druggie weirdo who's sitting on a pile of dirty grass in front of her father's ghost in her own head and is too afraid to open her eyes and face reality. man this sucks.
"Open your eyes Mitchell." I heard that soothing voice I missed so much.
"I can't." my voice broke and I imagined how my ugly-crying face would look so much like Andrew Garfield.
"Why?" he asked.
"Because once I open my eyes, you'll be gone." I sniffed like a spoiled child who lost one piece of her candy.
"Silly Mitchy," I chuckled when he called me my baby nickname, "I'm always with you, even when you stick your fingers up your-" now that got me to open my eyes.
In which I had regretted because my gaze had collided with her,
She,
Me-birther...
"You're awake." she rubbed her fingers on my face and I watched in confusion as she smiled with her palm resting on my face.
"You're real?" a mixture of pure joy, confusion and hatred clouded my senses and I stared deeper into her eyes. Slowly, I realized that the simple genuine-looking smiles she had always given me were fake.
"I was never dead, Mitchell." she clarified and I nodded, still unknown of what to say and how to act around her. Also unknown of how to not acknowledge the memory of that same but extremely genuine smile followed by her falling off the roof.
"Is it true? Did you really steal serums and put them in my body?" I asked her, roaming my eyes around her familiar body for any injury and found none. Surviving the suicide fall proved she was just like me. "Did you put them in your body too?"
She ignored me and stood up. I sat up too, not surprised that I still felt the magnificent pain from the broken nose that wanna-be kingpin gave me
"Why am I not healing?" I asked, pretty damn sure that she had something to do with it.
"Isn't that what you wanted? I gave you an antidote, freedom from deathlessness." she she sat on the dressing table, giving me access to scrutinize her body. She was always the model-figure type. Nice bigger boobs and thin body like Jada Pinkett but with nice curly hair unlike my greasy one.
