Chapter Text
Amelia Reyes didn’t remember a time before accidents started happening. But her mother, Lena, remembered everything. It had begun after her little brother, Mateo, was born. One week he arrived, and suddenly the world seemed off-balance. Cups toppled from counters. Lamps fell. Even the old toaster sparked and smoked.
“She’s… a jinx,” her mother muttered into her phone one night, smoothing Amelia’s blanket. “I… I don’t know… no sé cómo…", the voice on the other end asks something which Lena responds, "I don’t know how else to explain it.”
Amelia blinked up at her mother. “Pero mami-” she choked back her words as she was about to cry. Lena walks out, still on the phone. Her father, Klaus, knelt beside her. His German accent thickened each word. “Du musst ruhig bleiben, Amelia. Accidents happen. Do not fear yourself.” He pats her head. Amelia nodded. Her father was rarely home. His words felt strange on her tongue as she understood more Spanish than German, and her mother’s presence filled most of her days. Lena taught her to be careful, to move quietly, to try her best and to survive. Klaus however, taught her how to be responsible of her actions, to apologize, and to be the smaller person.
“Pa, am I a bad bebe?” Amelia asks, voice small and soft. Klaus gets up and looks at his daughter gently, “No my love, you’re a good baby. You just have to learn how to control your powers.” Of course, Amelia doesn’t have any actual abilities, but her parents just tell her that so she doesn’t doubt herself.
”Night night Papi, see you this weekend.”
”Night night my ladybug.”
With that, Klaus turns off Amelia’s lamp and heads out the door, closing it softly behind him. Amelia turns to her side, hugging her Captain America plush her dad got her from his business trip in New York. “I wish was a superhero like you Captain.” She smiles while drifting off to sleep.
School was another battlefield. At St. Michael’s Elementary, Amelia learned quickly how to keep herself invisible. But she was five. Kindergarteners didn’t understand careful. During arts and crafts, Amelia had carefully stacked colored blocks to make a small tower. A sudden sneeze from the boy next to her sent it toppling. The boy glaring at her like if she did it on purpose.
While picking up her mess, her cousin comes up to her. “Ugh! Watch it, Jinx!” Mara’s voice rang out, a sharp sneer. Amelia’s face burned. “I… yo no quise…” she mumbled, placing the blocks in a bin. Tomas leaned over, arms crossed. “Seriously, Amelia. You’re gonna break something again. Do not come close to me… stay away.”
Ricky, a boy with messy hair and round glasses, frowned. “That’s not cool. She didn’t do it on purpose.” He helps her pick up the blocks. “Yeah, whatever,” Mara scoffed. Looking at Amelia, She leans in and whispers, “You’re always messing stuff up, Jinx.”
Amelia’s small hands trembled. She wanted to vanish into the carpet. Mara always hated Amelia for being different. Tears starts to blur her vision until she remembers her mother’s words, echoing in her head, “Mija, people will call you names, sí, pero do not let it hurt you. You are clever. You will survive.”
-
Home was no refuge either. Her older cousins visited often, and family dinners could be a minefield.
“Careful with the flan, Jinx!” Mara teased, nudging the dessert toward Amelia. She grabbed it too quickly, and it slipped from her hands. It splattered on the tablecloth. “Ay, Dios mío!” her mother exclaimed, rushing to clean up the mess. “Amelia, niña, calmate! Todo está bien, pero cuidado!” She starts to wipe down the table and clean Amelia’s hands. Her father sighed from his chair, absentmindedly stirring his coffee. “Du musst vorsichtig sein, Amelia. You cannot always control the chaos.” She felt herself shrink in her seat.
Amelia nodded, cheeks red, eyes downcast. “Sí, papi…” Mara scoffed, “You can’t even speak English like the rest of us. There’s no way I’m only a year older.” Hearing this, Lena flicks Mara’s ear. “Ya ñina, stop bothering Lia. She’s trying her best. I don’t see you getting amazing English grades to be saying that.” Mara’s face turns red. Amelia’s lips curl a bit, happy her mother stood up for her. Suddenly it went away as she saw Mateo grab a knife from the counter.
“Ma! Mateo grabbed a knife!”, getting out of her seat, Amelia goes over to stop her little brother. Klaus gets up and yells out, “No Amelia! Get away, you’re a Jinx!” It was too late.
Amelia tripped and landed right next to Mateo, causing him to stumble off the chair, knife cutting his little arm. “Mateo! Ay no mi hijo, it’s okay…” Lena grabs the crying Mateo, rushing to the bathroom to clean him up.
Mara and Tomas go to Amelia, glaring at her. “Look what you did you Jinx! I think it’s better if you just disappeared.” Tomas says, grabbing Amelia’s hair. “You don’t deserve to be in this house or this family.” Mara starts to hit Amelia.
This was normal. Though it shouldn’t be, Amelia got used to it.
-
Even the small victories at school could be undone in seconds. One day, Amelia carefully lined up crayons in rainbow order. She had just stepped back to admire her work when another student tripped and knocked the whole box over. Crayons scattered across the floor.
“I told you, Jinx!” Mara laughed. Amelia bit her lip. “Yo… yo no quise,” she whispered again, picking up the crayons. She knew she would always say it. Always. Not matter whose fault it was, Mara was always there to remind Amelia about her Jinx.
“‘Yo no quise’ is that all you can say?” Mara tower over Amelia, a dangerous smirk planted on her face. “N-No? I can speak inglés too!”, she said softly. Not trying to be put in recess detention again, Mara just pushed her cousin and walked away.
-
A few weeks later, the day came when her life changed forever.
It was a bright spring morning at the Newark Mall. Amelia held Mateo’s hand, keeping close to her mother. She walked a few careful steps behind them, watching every loose tile, every shiny surface. One mistake can cause her more damage than good. She made sure to not hold Mateo’s hand too roughly, not look at the ground too much, not breathe too loudly- all something she worries about when out with her family.
Suddenly, shadows moved too fast. Strong hands grabbed her arms. She didn’t see them coming. One second she’s looking up, and the next, she’s not.
“¡Suéltame!” Amelia screamed, kicking and twisting, her voice high and urgent. Her mother spun around, panic flashing across her face. “Amelia! No déjenla! Es mi hija!” Her father’s husky voice rang faintly from the distance. “Amelia! Halt! Stop!” But he was too far, caught in the sea of shoppers.
The strangers guided Amelia through the back hallways for employees, through a door, and toward a waiting van. Calm, precise, unyielding.
Amelia tried to yell for help, sobbing through the lady’s hand. “Shhh… it will be easier if you come quietly,” the lady said. Amelia’s stomach dropped. She wanted to fight. To throw herself at her mother. To scream until she was heard. But her instincts, sharpened by five years of avoiding disaster, whispered: Observe. Remember. Survive.
Her last sight of her mother was the tears streaming down her face, fingers outstretched, shouting after her- it will be forever burned into her memory. Her father, frozen in horror. Mateo, confused and tiny, reaching for her.
By the time the van doors closed, Amelia Reyes understood two things:
Obedience would keep her alive.
Trusting anyone could be deadly.
Even at five, she forced herself to stay calm. To watch. To memorize every detail. The world she had just entered, the Red Room, would teach her many lessons. Most of them painful.
She was Subject A-015 now. And though she didn’t know it yet, survival would become the only skill that mattered.