1 | Breach At The Academy

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"OUT OF EVERYONE HERE," my dad spat out, "you've been the biggest disappointment."

I wish I could say he was being overdramatic, but he definitely wasn't. My dad never got dramatic, apparently, because he was only being honest. I don't remember honesty being so cruel.

"I don't suppose you know why that is?" I said, narrowing my eyes in spite.

I'm going to be blunt. I hated him with every single fiber in my body. First off, his name was Reginald. Who the hell would name thier child Reginald? It was like an Alien named a baby with the first name they could think of. Second, he definitely failed at the basics of parenting.

"It's because you refuse to use your powers," he said, crossing his arms against his chest.

I rolled my eyes, "because I don't need to use my powers."

"Then how do you expect to execute them efficiently," he yelled, his agitation bursting out like a canon, "if you are too stubborn to practice?"

Hah, stubborn. Sure, that was why I resisted all of my sessions. Shaking my head, I let out a scoff. Unlike the rest of my siblings at the academy, I couldn't hold my temper and my tongue. I didn't see the point in pretending to show respect for someone I didn't respect in the first place.

"There's nothing efficient about what I do, and I wish not to do it at all," I said, turning on my heels, "I'm sorry, dad."

I wasn't sorry at all, but to avoid being locked in the basement, I had to pretend I was. That was the only thing I managed to cough out, but it wasn't respect in the slightest. I'm sure he noticed the hatred underlying my words, but he didn't care.

Storming down the hallway, I let my hair fly behind me wildly. It was the third time I had been called into his office for a lecture, and it was only Tuesday. Tuesday. The second freaking day of the week.

Stomping down the stairs, I narrowed my eyes and tried to look unapproachable. I didn't want to talk to anybody, I just wanted to make a peanut butter sandwich and kick vases off of their pedestals. Apparently it didn't work, because a voice called out to me as I passed by the living room.

"I heard dad yelling at you," Ben said, flipping through the pages of his latest novel, "again."

Ah. I should have expected he'd be eavesdropping. Even though his powers weren't anything extraordinary compared to the rest of the academy, he often got a big head because he was dad's favorite.

"Mind your own business," I hissed, narrowing my eyelids.

"I was trying to," he said, "but you guys were so loud, I couldn't help but listen in."

"Just wait till I ditch this place. At least then, you won't have to worry about the noise."

Ben snapped his book closed  faster than I could blink, "you're leaving?"

"Thinking about it."

"And why would that be?"

"Hmm..." I sneered, pretending to give it any thought, "maybe it's because everyone here treats me like garbage?"

"We only treat you like you treat your powers," he stated, "and unfortunately, that means we don't bother paying attention to you at all."

"Good, you won't notice if I leave then."

"Dad will," Ben sighed, "then he'll track you down and lock you in the basement."

"Bold of you to assume I won't fight back."

He laughed, as if I just said the funniest thing in the world. I didn't think I said anything humorous. Maybe his sense of comedy was just as dumb as he was... which would explain a lot actually.

"Let's say you escape," he said, standing up, "and you leave the academy."

"Where are you going with this?"

"Where the hell do you think you'll go?"

"Somewhere."

"That won't cut it," he frowned, "your powers can't help you, and I'm guessing no one else will."

"Frick you, Ben," I said, generously giving him two of my fingers, "go suck up to Dad some more."

Rolling my eyes, I turned on my heels and began to walk to the kitchen. I barely made it out of the living room, when the floor began to shake. And no, that wasn't normal.

It was like an earthquake of some sort, but that wasn't common at all for New York. Suddenly, I heard surprised screams from upstairs, and all of my siblings came running down to the living room.

"What the hell is going on?" Fei yelled, ducking near the bar.

Ignoring the question, I dove into a chair, curling myself into a ball. If I died today, I might as well die in a green, velvet chair. Opening one of my eyes, I saw my dad slowly striding down the stairs, the monocle in his eye glinting off the lamp-light.

"Dad!" Ben said, "what should we do?"

Ugh, typical Ben. Always asking someone else for help.

Before anyone could answer the question, the lights flickered off, and a giant WOOSH echoed around the room. Once the electricity slowly turned back on, I realized there were seven more strangers in our presence.

Who the hell, and how the hell?

Actually, what the hell?

As soon as they arrived, the earthquake stopped immediately, like some sort of timed entrance. None of them were familiar at all. As the rest of us stayed hidden in confusion, we watched as a greasy-haired intruder began to approach the fireplace.

"Guys?" He said with worry, "why is there a painting of Ben over the mantelpiece?"

Oh, great. They knew Ben.

As they all rushed to see what the greasy-haired man was looking at, I saw my Dad step out from behind the chair he was hiding by.

"I knew you'd show up eventually," he said, nodding his head.

Did everyone know who these people were? Once again, I was probably the odd one out when it came to information. Cue: the sad violin music. As I waited for one of them to say something else, Ben stepped into the light with a distasteful expression on his face.

"Dad," he said, "who the hell are these idiots?"

And for once in my life, I was thinking the same thing.

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