Asylum

Overwhelmed

Leo Hernandez

The three of us sat in mostly silence. Occasionally, Elektra would speak to tell us how dumb we all were, and that our attachments to each other are the reasons she doesn't like us. I knew she was just playing herself, though. Deep down, Sarah and I both felt her relief of our staying. In the terminal, we didn't see Cerberus or the one who aligns with death. Am I complaining? No.

"It's going to be a long plane ride," I note. "Fourteen hours, actually. So we'll be arriving in Tokyo around afternoon time, and Ren and Kya will be there a few hours before."

Elektra rolls her seafoam eyes as she throws her hair into a tight ponytail. "Don't forget layovers and refueling. It could take a full twenty-four hours before we're there. It just depends."

Sarah frowns. "How will Ren and Kya know when to pick us up, then?"

"They'll figure it out."

"Yeah," I joke. "If they're both still alive by the time we get there. I bet twenty bucks that they're going to be covered in bruises from fighting."

"Now doesn't seem like the time to be – " Sarah gets cut off by Elektra.

"Call it. Raise you fifty," Elektra challenges.

"Yeah!" I cheer, pumping my agonizingly skinny arm in the air. "Now we're talking. You know, I knew there was more to you than an icy attitude and apathetic demeanor...you sly dog, you..."

A group of guys and girls walk by us, all without markings or strange mutations. They laugh together as they tow their carry-on luggage with them, totally unaware of the supernatural dangers that lurk around them. Merely yards away, there are three beings with the ability to read minds, cause unexplained pain, and shoot lightning bolts. Yet, they're totally unaware of it. I'm not jealous of them, though. Everything about me is totally average, and if we're being honest – I might even be a bit subpar. My curly hair is a pain, my suspenders (which I love) don't seem to be a hit around here, and I'm as skinny as I'll get out. Being able to read minds is, although a bit useless, what makes me special.

But when they look over at the three of us – a bit dirty, damp from the drive here, tired, and slouched in our chairs with worry-wrinkles – they wrinkle their noses at us. They scrutinize us one by one. First, Elektra, whose entire body is covered with forks of lightning markings that trace her veins. The blue strands through her dirty blonde hair almost dazzle when they're wet, and the blue slashes in her irises don't add to her not looking normal. To them, she flicks her gaze and shoots them daggers.

To me, they survey my clothes: stained, bizarre, and out-of-style. I can't find the strength in me to stare them in the eye, so I keep my focus trained on the ground.

To Sarah, they smile. How can you not smile at Sarah? On the outside, she's a petite girl who looks sweeter than a devil's cake. She's got this magnanimity about her that just makes you grin. The strangers give her a wary double-take when they see her lavender eyes, but they ignore it. I find myself mentally laughing. If only they knew how strong and capable she was. She's not just some little girl with an adorable face. She could kill you in an instant.

I don't need to read the minds of these strangers as they eventually pass us by. Their thoughts were clearly written all over their faces.

At last, we're called to board our flight. A second wind lifts me off my feet and carries me to the boarding. The three of us stand up as Elektra sizes the crowd, which is full of bustling people. She taps my pointy shoulder. "Any sign of Asylum?"