Deathday || Marvel

one.

Sunday, May 8th, 2011

"She's waking up!"

"Doctor!"

"Someone get Dr. Evans!"

Twyla groaned as she slowly blinked her eyes open. The dark room that greeted her was startling; this wasn't her room. No, her room would never be this boring. The dark concrete walls that surrounded her were disconcerting compared to the pastel yellow that she was used to. Plus, there were cracks in the walls and her neat freak uncle would never allow Twyla's room to fall into such disarray.

There was a single light that swung as people swarmed around the room. Apparently, there was a miracle happening. Was Twyla that miracle? Her mother always told her so, but her uncle was very clear. Tilda Evans wasn't to be trusted. Twyla loved her uncle. Dr. Tobias Evans had taken Twyla when she was a very small child, he had treasured her. Sure, he was little eccentric, but he never belittled or told Twyla that she couldn't do something.

They were going to a carnival; Twyla was going to win a stupid goldfish from one of the games. That had been her fascination for a while and Uncle Tobias had promised her that he would take her the next time a carnival came to Harlem.

There was commotion around her. Twyla blinked at the people swarming the poorly lit room. There were five people in the room with her and she didn't know any of them. They all looked very sciency. Twyla's uncle was a chemist, she had grown up around spontaneous explosions and too many emergency visits to count. So naturally she wasn't afraid of doctors, but these people didn't look very friendly. There was a small woman with sharp eyes that was staring at Twyla with a look that Twyla imagined vultures got while circling their prey.

But Twyla wasn't prey. Even if she was, she felt more like roadkill at the moment than anything edible. Though vultures eat roadkill so her metaphor kind of falls apart at this point. The point is Twyla wasn't some miracle. The girl wasn't sure which was worse, Vulture Girl or the tall man who stared at her as if she was the most intriguing thing he had ever seen. Which was silly, Twyla was 12 and failing math.

She wasn't anything special.

She wasn't anybody to start a fuss over.

Twyla was probably the calmest middle graders in her school. That was what Ms. Clancey said anyway, and Ms. Clancey was the smartest person that Twyla knew. Second only to her uncle of course.

Twyla let out a breath that she didn't know she was holding when her uncle pushed his way through the doctors in the room. He was wearing his round glasses that he only bought because Twyla thought they made him look like Harry Potter and his white coat with his badge clipped crookedly on the pocket. Twyla always liked that badge; it was the reason octopuses were her favorite animal for most of her childhood (did you know that octopuses have three hearts?). Under the white coat he had a loosened tie, which was odd. Everything about his appearance was odd. Her normally neat freak uncle looked haggard, like he hadn't slept in a week.

The only other time that Twyla had seen him like this was when she was nine and had cracked her head open while falling out of a tree.

"Twyla." He breathed her name out in a gust of air and visibly relaxed. "You're awake."

Twyla blinked at him. What a silly thing to say, of course she was awake. Why wouldn't she be? She was only sleeping.

What bothered her was that she was in a strange room with strange people staring at her. Her uncle the person she had relied on for everything was acting weird and she didn't understand. She wanted to go home.

Twyla hiccupped; her breath was coming out in shuddering gasps.

"Oh, Twylie." Her uncle stepped closer to her. "Don't cry darling. You're going to be alright."