Burning Bright: An Avengers Fanfiction

Taking a Stand

I was in a house that I was certain that I would never see again. It was exactly the same; small, cluttered and dirty. I was back in my old home. My personal hell.

I walked through the screen door into the dingy living room, my hand lightly tracing the wall. This was the same place, no doubt about it. The same place that I had escaped with desperation all of those years ago.

I snapped out of my reminiscing when I suddenly heard a small yelp come from the kitchen, along with a grunt. I cautiously walk towards the kitchen, praying for my instincts to be wrong. What I saw almost made me vomit. It was me, but me when I was five. Young Me was currently curled up against the kitchen cabinets, shaking like a leaf. Her hair was a mess, and she was covered in bruises. Blood trickled slowly from a cut on her forehead.

I heard the floorboards creek and spun around. I was suddenly faced with my father, the man who had truly taught me fear. He looked just the same as when I left, except for one thing. His normally brown eyes were pitch black. Pupils, whites, everything, just black. It made him look even more frightening then usual. Standing closely behind him was my mother, whose eyes matched his. She was a different case then my father. She didn't destroy me with her fists, but with her words. Just like she was about to do. I wanted to scream, to cry, to grab my younger self and run away from the house as fast as possible, but I couldn't. I was stuck to floor like someone had put super glue on my feet. All I could do was watch.

"This is your fault. You forced us to be this way, to hurt you. If you were just normal, if you weren't a freak, then everything would be okay. Everyone here thinks we're crazy, but that's just because they don't know the real you.You come off as sweet and innocent, but I know what you really are."

As my mother berated the young girl on the floor with her vicious words, my father came over to where the small girl that was me was curled up, and suddenly pulled Young Me up by her hair, just like the agent had moments before I had be whisked away to my nightmare. He twisted my small body around to where my mother was facing. Young me was limp, finally giving up the fight. My mother stalked over to her, lifting my little chin with her index finger, making me look into her eyes. Her face was close to mine as she whispered,

"You're an abomination."

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I opened my heavy eyelids slowly and let out a small groan. I felt my muscles relax after being taught from my dream. In my dreams, I'm either paralyzed, or I scream and thrash until I wake up. Everything came rushing back to me and I wanted to curl up into a ball and hide from the world. Fury had told me I wouldn't be hurt, and yet here I am waking up with a huge headache after being tazed. Where was I anyway?

I looked around at the room I was in now, praying I wasn't going to be back up in my little white cell. It looked like some kind of lab, with scientific equipment everywhere. I was laying on a desk that had been quickly cleared off, judging by the pile of stuff at one end. There was an IV in my arm, along with a little metal clip on the end of my finger taking my vital signs. I lifted my fingers to my neck, feeling soft gauze where the tazer had been burrowed into. I wasn't strapped down, which was a good sign, but I did still have the anklet on.

I heard some shuffled footsteps at the other end of the lab, and cautiously lifted my head an inch to see who it was. It was a man, black hair that was peppered with silver. His back was to me; bent over the counter looking at some papers, making notes with a pen. He had yet to notice I was awake, occupied with whatever he was looking at now. I laid back down silently, trying to make a plan.