Chapter Text
O, what would mother think if she saw me? I, a murderer. A traitor. A pathetic meaning for a human. A God. I am that God. A worthless, pathetic, being that is supposed to be a demigod. I hate it. I hate the people. I hate the gods for what they’ve done. And they should regret the day I was born. Regret the powers that have been given to me. No. This will be a demigod to be remembered for eons.
Maverick remembered the day his powers were founded. The start of it all. Owen Williams and his stupid friends. 4th grade in Baton Rouge, Louisiana.
Baton Rouge was a large city, having lived there only a handful of years in his life, it never felt truly like home. And yet his true home was never really accepting to him. Maverick and his mother had moved to Baton Rouge when he was only 7 years old. He had always had trouble settling in, especially when it came to Owen Williams who seemed to have an issue with anything he did.
“Look at him! All alone like the freak he is! I bet Patti doesn’t like you anyways! Just hanging around you because she feels bad. Your voice sounds so weird! She’s probably scared!” He laughed, pointing a finger at me as if I were some pest to mock and tease. I know I should’ve brushed it off, stand up, and walk away like it didn’t hurt. But it did. Everything in life hurts. So this must too.
I tried doing just that. That was, until I was shoved onto the concrete, my knees bleeding as they scraped against the ground while I caught myself before I could faceplant. I let out a pained grunt, holding back tears already. “Leave me alone Owen! Or I'll—” I stumbled through my words, looking around for help even though I knew no one would bother coming to my aid. After all, who stood up to Owen Williams? His father could take anyone's job with the snap of his finger. He practically owned half of the town.
Every school, every park, every store, the Williams family were the top donators. You couldn't go anywhere without seeing their name on a plaque, practically bragging about their ancestors and how deep they ran with the town. Any time someone tried to speak out about Owen's misdeeds, they were only given the same response.
"We'll look into it."
And then nothing was ever done.
I was brought back to reality as a sharp pain hit my face, my back slamming against the concrete floor as Owen pinned me against the ground. My dark curls starting to mix with the rocks and dirt as my shirt was bunched up in Owen's fists, pulling me upwards and forcing me to crain my neck up in an uncomfortable position.
"You'll look at me when I speak! You think I'm some kind of joke?" He began, his voice a nasaly screech in my ears. "Well it's not fucking funny. I'm gonna own the family fortune one day, and I'll make sure to sack your ma from that stupid breakfast diner she works at. Maybe then she wouldn't have to go whor'in around town to pay for your ass." He whispered harshly, slamming my head into the concrete floor.
"You're insane!" I screamed, placing my hands on his shoulders in an attempt to push him off me.
"I'm not insane, your the one who's mental!" Owen shot back, his right fist releasing my shirt just to collide with my cheekbone, his other fist following in the same manor to only hit my left cheek instead.
"Hey leave him alone!"
Patti. One of the only kids in this damned place who didn't think I was an absolute freakshow. She always stated that different could be good, not always something that was a negative aspect of ourselves. And I believed her. I believed all of it. Every word, every lecture to take better care of myself, everything she ever did with me. I opened my eyes once the punches paused to see her loose ink-colored curls above me.
Patti was high middle class, with a decent home life and good parents who were doctors. She would invite me to her home sometimes and her parents were always so welcoming. Her family always made the best tamales loaded with all these kinds of spices and seasoning that made his cheeks warm.
Owen looked up at the noise of Patti entering and laughed as he begrudgingly released me. He gained his footing, looming over me as he shifted his gaze from me to Patti. He made sure to spit at me, the saliva hitting my cheek as disgust crossed my face and he grinned with satisfation. It was a flash of the moment. Patti could barely get her next words out as Owen practically pounced on her, his fists gripping her curls and started to yank it out, strand by strand, clumps of her hair forming in his hands as she cried out for help.
I could only stare in stunned shock, my ears ringing as the background noise fo children playing faded. My blood boiled. I'm sure teachers had turned their heads towards the noise, but who knows if they even made movement towards us. Until it was too late.
The sunny afternoon sky was quickly changed into dark clouds. The wind whistled in his ears. Owen stopped pulling Patti's hair. The sound of children playing on the playground paused, students gazed up towards the heavens, noting how the clouds collided with one another, then spun. Spun into a funnel and then into a wedge. Baton rouge's tornado sirens blared as teachers yelled for students to get inside. But they were too late. The tornado had touched down on Baton Rouge. It was fast, powerful, and deadly.
Any sound was swallowed by the howl, and I was the eye of it. I watched as vehicles, roofs, woodchips, and children were raised into the sky, being flung in different directions, heads cracking into the metal playground equipment as my body stayed locked in place. I met Patti's emerald eyes before she disappeared behind the gusts of wind. Owen's screams seemed to echo through my mind and body. My vision went white. I could feel. Feel the pain. The screams. I was screaming. The blood splattering onto my azure t-shirt. It was warm. Wet. Fresh.
And then... darkness. My eyes rolled back as I felt something get pelted into my skull.
——
"You won't forget me right? When you move away?" I asked nervously, looking over at her while we waited at the bus stop.
Patti only flashed me her signature dimpled grin, "of course! I'll try to call your home phone every night! Maybe my parents will let me send you letters? I'll make sure to send you stickers and any cool cds I think you'd like. You aint ever getting rid of me, Mav."
I didn't own an iPod but had this old cd player my ma had gifted me for my 7th birthday. And ever since Patti had figured out I owned one, she made sure to find me cd's to play on it ever since. She knew I prefered hip-hop and alternate music compared to pop, but I'd listen to anything that would get my mind off of my struggles.
"Thank you, Patti. I... I appreciate you being in my life." I replied, a smile growing on my lips as my eyes met hers.
——
"Witnesses reported that he was in the middle of the tornado, Ms. Abiola. Its a miracle the boy is even alive. He got a concussion at most, along with minor bruising."
Everything hurt. I had the worst ache in my head, my throat was sore and dry, and i had ringing in my ears. Once I finally opened my eyes and welcomed the hospital lights to my vision, they burned. I let out a pained groan as I heard someone rush to my side.
Ma.
My mother was in a fragile state. Luckily, alive, however still not looking the best. She said she wasn't injured, having found proper shelter in the diner she worked at but that didn't disclose the constant eyebags she had obtained from overworking herself as a waitress and living from paycheck to paycheck. We were both relatively thin from lack of proper nutrition, but her chocolate skin was rough, with calloused palms and ashy skin along with hollow cheeks to top everything off. But despite looking like a ghost, she was hauntingly soft and beautiful all the same. I loved my mother. But I loved her enough to know I was weighing her down. Every minor or major incident left an impact on our little financial stability we still had left.
"Maverick! Thank gods you're alright! I didn't know what could've happened to you or if you were alive—I didn't know what to think."
I started to zone out a bit as my throat felt closed and my vision began to blur. And soon enough I was crying. I could hear Owen's claims echoing in my ears, that I'd always be a crybaby running back to my mother. And I knew deep down, he was right.
"I'm scared mom. I didnt know what to do—so much was happening, What's wrong with me?? I'm a monster, ma!" I had started hiccuping and sobbing as snot ran down from my nose. Awkwardly, doctors handed my mom a tissue box before stepping out of the room to give us space. From what I had recalled, I spawned a tornado. A tornado that I later found out had a 175 mph wind. A tornado, that hurt people. Killed hundreds.
"Baby, you are alive. You are okay now. But there is something I need to tell you... Your little friend, she didn't make it, Mav. They found her body almost skinned. It was horrible. I cant imagine how her family must be feeling."
Patti. My Patti. She was gone.
——
Patti's funeral was the week after the disaster. I had expected a body, but there was only a small, white box. Labeled on it was:
Patricia Lila Rivera
Together, forever
Died on May 3rd, 1999.
She was my girl. Former lover even if neither of us had known the true meaning of that preach of dedication. I may live on, but she stays in this box. Under 6 feet of dirt. Trapped in the underground of Louisiana. I wonder if it's cold, Patti.
I couldnt bare looking at her parents. Their eyes had turned red after probably hours of sorrow. I knew they thought the tornado was a natural disaster and their young daughter had just been at the wrong place at the wrong time, but I knew the truth. I knew it was me. I killed her. I killed those people. And I could only sit, a free boy, as if I were as innocent as a doe. But my ma knew. She knew it was me. That I had something to do with it. And yet she didn't shout. Didn't yell. But spoke to me on the car ride home once we left the funeral home.
"Mav, I need to tell you something," she spoke hesitantly, figuring out her next words wisely. "I know that tornado wasn't natural. A tornado doesn't just appear out of thin air."
I sucked in a nervous breath as I fisted the fabric of my black dress pants.
"I know you would never want to hurt your little friend." My mother continued, taking a hand off the steering wheel to place it on top of mine. "But you are a special case. Special in a way many don't understand. And I'm not talking about where you were born, baby. Your father. He's the one that makes you special."
"What are you talking about, mom? I'm not special. I'm a monster, ma! I can't control anything, I don't even know how I did that! I hurt people. I destroyed the roof of the school!"
"I know, baby cakes. But we can help you control those powers. Look, we need to head up north. How's that sound for a summer vacation?"
Vacation!? We don't even have the money half the time to pay the bills.
"Ma, I don't think I deserve the vacation."
"Oh come on, it will be good for you! They will help you control your powers. And you might even meet your father."
"My dad!?" I yelped, startled at the mention of him. "I don't want to meet him! What has he ever done for us??? He has never cared for us! If he did, he would bother to visit at least!"
"I will not let you disrespect your father like that, Maverick. Yes, it was wrong, but he is the reason you are special."
"What? By giving me the backstory of not having a dad?"
"Maverick Abiola. I understand you are upset. But we are going up to New York City. And you will be packing when we get home. You might meet some new people. I promise, you will have fun, bring some light into you."
And so I did. Once we arrived home I packed a small luggage, filling it with jeans, t-shirts, socks, and a couple cardigans. I also filled it with a couple of dvd's and cd's that held some of my favorite movies and music artists before grabbing my blue cd player.
And soon, the 20 hour drive had begun as we left Baton Rouge behind in the dust.