She was just walking down the street minding her own business when it first happened. Little did she know what was about to happen to her. She stood at the intersection waiting for the little red man to turn green. She wasn’t paying any attention to the cars flying past her on the road. So when a couple of those cars stopped passing through rather abruptly, the only thing that let her know was that she suddenly had a few tons of metal on top of her.
Strangely it didn’t hurt at all. She knew that it should have. She tried to lift her arms, and found to her surprise that she could. The metal seemed to float in her hands as though it were nothing, and just as quickly as she had found herself under the vehicle she now found herself free of it. Everyone turned and stared, unable to look away from what they were seeing.
She dropped the car next to her and backed away slowly. Slowly she turned around before finally breaking into a full sprint. Confusion filled her. How had she done that? What did all of those people think of her? What was she going to do now? She ran through back streets and alleyways, unable to answer any of those questions. Once again, she wasn’t paying attention to her surroundings, and so she suddenly bowled into a group of thugs in black.
She stopped as the man she had hit regained his footing. The group turned to face her. That was when she noticed what they had been looking at. A man lay on the ground, struggling to get to his feet. One of the gang pointed at her.
“Looks like you stumbled into the wrong neighbourhood there, hun. Get her.” They all moved to grab her. She screamed and flailed, and each time she made contact with one of her attackers limbs she could hear a soft crunch. Soon all of them lay in pain on the ground groaning. She hurried over to the other man that they had already gone to town on. Where the people on the intersection had looked on her with shock, he looked with awe.
“You, you saved me. I…” He stuttered as he tried to get to his feet. She offered him a hand as gently as she could muster. It was then that she felt a tap on her back. She turned to see that what appeared to be their leader had tried to punch her. He now had a look on his face just like the one the onlookers had at the car crash.
“What are you?” He questioned, backing away.
She let the thug turn and run. Let him run and tell everyone he could. These streets weren’t safe for the like of him. She picked the wounded man up of the ground and helped him brush himself off.
“How did you do that?” he asked.
“I couldn’t tell you myself. It just sort of happened.”
“Well I’m glad it did. You saved me.” He looked like he was going to fall over any moment. She moved to brace him and walk him out of the alley.
No one believed the stories that those few onlookers told that day. Yet with time the whisper grew to a shout. Everyone knew that there was a helping hand to be found on those streets.
His eyes showed her what he thought of her. What the world thought of her. All of these people see her as a freak. She would show them that it didn’t matter what they thought of her. She was better than them. She hit him.
She heard his jaw crack. He tried to mutter something but it came out as a garbled mess. She hit him again. He would know that he didn’t get to judge her. She was better than him. He was some street punk. She hit him again. He was the one who people were meant to fear, not her. She hit him again.
Blood dripped on the concrete. She turned back to the man she had saved. There it was, in his eyes too. The same look that the thug had given him. A look of fear. He managed to get to his feet. He turned and ran. She looked down at her knuckles as he went.