Hero Chapter One

Hello people of the realm of Internet!
I have another story for you all, this one I call Hero. For this one I don't really have a backstory... It was pretty much one of those things that surfaced from my mind out of... pretty much no where. Any way, here it is...


I am a hero.
You think I sound selfish? Shocker. As a matter of fact I am telling you what people have told me for the last five years.
They say that I am a hero. I have never believed them. I’ve never liked my fans. Because my fans now were previously all nay-sayers. Amazing how times have changes.
But back then, I was different, too.
I had entered the awkward age of thirteen. While the other girls in my grade were squealing over boys and makeup, I was wondering what the fuss was all about. Who cares about boys? And why would you want to draw on your face? I didn’t care about my appearance. About my small scrawny body. Or my freckles that were spread across my face more frequent than stars in the sky. Or my blond hair that everyone insisted, with a little work, could be pretty as (insert gorgeous celebrity here). Nor did I think about what I wanted to do with my life.
My story could be considered an underdog story. I started off as the picked on, new girl then became the most “heroic” person in the world.
But everyone loves an underdog story.
Here goes.
My name is Imani Reis.
Great name huh?
It was my grandmother’s name. So I got stuck with it.
Naturally, at my new school, kids teased me about it. Oh hi, e-MAN-e, they would say before falling into giggles. I blame my teacher. She stood up in front of my new class and stated, Good morning everyone! We have a new student, e-MAN-e Reis.
I was really mad at Mrs. Jenkins by then. When I first got there, I had to talk to the principle –some dumb thing for welcoming you to the school. Then she marked me tardy, because the principle had taken over the hour that I had, to talk to me. So when she pronounced my name e-man-e instead of A-men-e like it’s supposed to be, I was majorly affronted. I like to get mad. But that also means usually I can't control it. I think I would have lost it that time, but lucky a girl saved me.
She jumped up, “Mrs. Jenkins!” she asked sweetly, “Can E-man-e come sit with me?”
Mrs. Jenkins smiled, “Of course, Seren!”
I grabbed my over-the-shoulder bag, and uncertainly plodded to the seat next to Seren.
I grabbed the chair and pulled it out. The chair was probably once an ugly green, but now was so coated and defaced by speckling’s of gum that it look yellow. I did not want to sit down on that ugly excuse for a chair. I heard a few snickers in the background. Obviously this wasn’t the first time a new kid had this prank pulled on them. I looked up toward the top of the classroom, but Mrs. Jenkins was furiously scribbling on the dirty whiteboard with a squeaky pen.
Seren, next to me, had a manicured hand covering her polished lips in the effort to hide a smile. She was in on this, too.
Don’t let them bother you, muttered that familiar voice.
I pursed my lips together, I was not going to sit on that, but…
I opened the flap to my bag, and shuffled through the abyss of random “In case of emergency” items my mom had packed.
Yes!
I put the rain jacket over the gross green chair.
I smirked at Seren’s shocked face as I plopped on the chair. Judging from her face –and the faces of her little group- this was the first time anyone had outwitted them.
That was pretty sad.
People at this school are not very creative or for that matter, smart.
So much for this school being the perfect match!


I hated PE.
Every part of it. The exercising, the teacher, the smelly scent afterward. But the worst part of all was the locker rooms.
The girl’s locker room was long and spacious, the lockers stuck with gum and chipped as though someone had taken a mallet to it. The one locker-less wall had a mysterious stain that made girls steer clear. But that wasn’t what I disliked.
It was the fact that you had to undress yourself in front of girls you barely know. And they undress in front of you, too.
I had been to too many different locker room situation, and all are the same. Ugly with an aroma of perfumes and deodorants combined to make an unusual scent.
I had just finished changing in the bathroom, and was going through the locker room to get to the gym. So, naturally I made a fool of myself colliding with a girl that donned neon green underwear with a matching sports bra.
I jerked to the side, recognizing Seren instantly.
“You jerk! Watch where you’re going.” She fumed, adding some choice words at the end.
“Sorry,” I muttered.
She gave me a well-practiced glare which turned to recognition.
“Oh, hi” Seren drew out the ‘i’. ”you are E-man-e, right?”
The dam inside of me was slowly breaking under the torrent of my anger.
Don’t let her get to you! The voice stated. If she doesn’t get under your skin she’ll eventually stop.
Eventually, I thought, how about now?
The voice didn’t answer.
I pasted a smile on my face trying to be civil, “It’s A-men-e, actually.”
“Oh, hi then E-men-e.” Seren lean close to me as though telling a secret to an old friend, “A tip about this school.”
“Stay out of my way,” she pushed me out of her way like I was nothing more than an object.
I was too stunned to move as she stalked across the locker room, her swarm of friend following her in a cloud of makeup and perfume.
“Stay outta my way!” came a mockery repeat.
I turned toward the voice. Hidden in a corner of the locker room, was a cheerleader.
Well she wasn’t actually a cheerleader –as I learned much later-, but she looked like one. She had almost black dark brown hair parted into two pigtail that stuck out on either side of her head.  Her face showed off her olive completion, with bright brown eyes that sparkled with laughter. She was sitting crisscross-applesauce on the chipped bench, a grin revealing her Hollywood-worthy teeth.
“Sorry about my sister,” the girl apologized.
I gaped, “That’s your sister?” my eyes shooting back and forth between the two.
They had the same olive completion and hair coloring, but Seren had dark green eyes and a slightly more rounded face.
“I know,” the girl laughed, “we’re twins.”
“Man, I feel sorry for you!” I blurted before thinking.
Smooth, the voice muttered.
My face turned the flattering color of a red rose, “Sorry.”
She smiled, “Nah, I hate her, too!”
I smiled, relieved.
She sprang up, and struck out a hand, “Zoe Trotter.”
I took her hand, “Imani Reis. Nice to meet you. I’m glad you’re not like your sister.”
She smiled, “Me, too.”
-BANG- -BANG- -BANG-, “Girls left in the locker room will have to run an extra five laps afterward.” A voice bellowed
Zoe and I groaned in unison.
“We better go.” Zoe grimaced, “I hate gym.”
I grinned, “Me, too!”
She smiled, “I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship.”
I looked at my new friend, May be this school won’t be so terrible after all!


“Times up!” the teacher yelled, the sound rebounded off the trophy covered walls. Making it sound as though there were ten Mr. Glock’s. “Class dismissed!”
The entire class sighed in perfect harmony.
In a flurry of shouting and shoving, the seventh grade class exited into their respectable locker rooms. As she left, Seren gave Zoe and I a smirk.
We promptly ignored her watching the others leave from our seat on the bleachers.
“This will be fun,” I muttered.
“I had a donut…” Zoe murmured, a distant look in her eyes.
“What?” I stared at her.
 Her expression cleared, “I’m hungry.” As though in agreement, her stomach growled, loudly.
Zoe blushed, and I laughed.
Seeing my new friend in discomfort, I screamed, jokingly, “IT’S ALIVE!”
She laughed, and I laughed alongside her, clutching my stomach.
“NOOOOOOO!” she said between laughter.
I laughed even harder.
Next to me, Zoe clasped my shoulder with her hand, laughing so hard she was weeping.
“Girrrrrrrrls!” We jerked up, laughter gone. Mr. Glocks was staring down on us.
“Run.” He ordered, a hand pointing toward the court.
We ran. At first only slowly, but gaining speed with every foot.
Easy, the voice murmured, not yet.
What the voice was talking about, I didn’t know.
I looked behind me.
Easy, the voice repeated.
I wanted to run, and run hard. But the voice said not to. And I trusted the voice. It had gotten me out of more pickles than I care to count. Ever since I was little and a rat had tried to attack me. The voice had ordered me to get a small broom and kill it. I had trusted it ever since.
But every molecule in my body begged me to run.
Zoe, ahead of me, turned around the corner. It was coming up fast. You know when you are concentrating hard, and someone gives you one thing to concentrate on? That’s how I felt. I was holding back myself, but trying not making it obvious.
Don’t run fast. Don’t run fast. Don’t run fast. Don’t run fast. Don’t run fast. The voice chanted. Don’t run fast. Don’t run fast. Don’t run fast.
The corner was coming up fast.
Turn, I told myself above the voice’s chanting.
I slowly angled my body, turning ever so slightly, while holding my mind in a headlock.
“Imani!” Mr. Glocks shouted.
“What, Mr. G- AHHH!” I screamed.
No! the voice shouted (mentally).
At first I couldn’t understand what had happened, one minute I was running, the next… the whole world was ablur of colors.
Did I faint? I questioned myself.
No… the voice trailed off.
So what happened? I asked it.
As usually, there was no reply.
Gradually I became aware of a burning sensation in my arms and legs. The kind you get when you have exercised, a lot.
I looked down at my legs, and was shocked.
They were moving. Like so fast it was a blur of purples and blues.
WHAT THE HECK! I thought at the voice.
Nothing.
Thanks for your help, I thought, sarcastically.
Tell it to stop, the voice chimed in.
What? Ugh! I choked on a bug.
Nothing.
I shrugged, mentally. Can’t hurt.
Stop. I uttered at my body.
There was no change.
Firmer, the voice coaxed.
Stop! I stated, as firm as I could.
Firmer! The voice commanded, exasperated.
How about you try this? I shot back.
Good, channel that energy, the voice responded, ignoring my comment.
I was furious, now. It was my first day at a new school, and I couldn’t even control my own body! This time I wouldn’t take no for an answer. I mentally screamed at my body, STOP!
And it did.
-SCREEEEEACH- 
My feet felt like they were being immersed in burning rubber. To my surprise, I wasn’t panting for life. But my chest felt like there was someone inside of it– with a mallet.
I could see the blurred shape of Zoe, and Mr. Glocks in front of me. And I imagined they were surprised at me. But whatever had just happened had left me with a spun brain and completely blind eyes.
That was your gift. The voice mumbled, softly.
My what? I questioned.
No reply.
If it was my “gift” it sure wasn’t helpful! I reiterated, in an effort to rouse the voice from whatever part of my brain in lounged.
The voice didn’t say –er think anything at me.
I straighten up. Mr. Glocks was hidden, a blown over table making a shield for him from the wind. He kept popping up and down, staring around the gym in a way that made me think of a rabbit in a pack of wolves. He mumbled different definitions that the mysterious could have been. I caught, “rouge fan” and “some stupid prank”.
Zoe, on the other hand, was a different story. She was staring directly at me. A weird look in her eyes like she was fighting between being scared, shocked, and unnerved.
She settled on shocked, “What was that?”
I didn’t know what to say. I mean, what was I suppose to? Oh yeah, that was some sort of weird wind thing the voice in my head said was my gift… But I’m not crazy!
I decide on the truth, “I don’t know!”


Alright people, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I am working on The Third Earth Chapter 2, currently so hopefully I should have that up soon. Oh and one more thing. Comment!! I love to hear from people! The good and the bad let me know. My only request is that its constructive criticism.  Saying, Your stories are awful, does not help me to make them better.  Thanks for reading!!!

In Him, LydiaMartha