Disclaimer: Worm is owned by Wildbow. Thanks for letting me play in your sandbox.
Special thanks to my beta reader and friend Mat.
I wake in darkness.
Horribly cramped, the first thing thing I notice is the smell.
Fucking Sophia and Emma. Sorry, I don't usually swear, but I think I've earned a little leeway given the situation. Right before first period, they'd pushed me into a locker filled with used tampons and pads. Worse yet, it was my locker.
Now I'm trapped, covered in my own vomit. I pled to be let out, then begged. The only response was laughter and mocking calls, followed promptly by my own tears. No one was going to help me. Emma and Sophia have the students cowed, and the faculty wrapped around their fingers.
Ok, I must have passed out. It's dark, no sounds of movement. Take a moment to assess the situation. Trapped in a locker, and no one around. No use in shouting out for help. No phone either, not since Mom died.
Looking down I can see a sliver of light showing through the slats of the locker. Maybe I can reach through them with something? No, what good will that do me.
Then it happened.
I could feel something moving through the slats in the locker.
What is that?
It's almost as if I can see, or maybe sense is a better word, via a strange aura. Is this real, or have I lost my mind? Crazy or not, I might as well try to use this new power to free myself.
Pushing through the slats, I quickly feel around the outside
of my locker, eventually sensing the lock on the left side of the its face. Wrapping a tendril of power around the lock I pull, and with a sudden metallic ping I feel the lock give way.
Well that just happened, guess I didn't have a psychotic break. Joy.
I guess this makes me a cape. A parahuman.
Testing my new abilities I create another tendril and use it to manipulate the latch on the locker. Locker opened, I nearly fall out into the hall. Jeez, they really crammed me in there. Stretching, I realize how awful I smell.
What do I do now?
Thank god none of the cameras work in this school. Bending down, I pick up the broken lock. Better to not leave any evidence behind.
Holding the lock in my hand, I gently cover it with my power. Slowly applying increasing pressure, I watch as the lock is crushed into a small ball no bigger than a D20.
Don't look at me like that, Dad was a big D&D fan in college. I know things.
Slowly making my way towards the showers, my muscles unwind with each step. I turn on the shower in the first stall and wait for the water heat up. Entering the stall I sit down, letting the water course over me, and think about what I should do next.
Standing up, I use my new power to clean off the used feminine products, bugs, and vomit from my clothing and skin. Man, they must have been planning for weeks considering how rotten these are. No way am I going to touch any of this crap with my bare hands.
Slightly cleaner, but much wetter, I shiver as I move to the locker room's exit. Moving quickly through the halls, I finally get to an exit I've only seen used by delinquents trying to skip out early. I approach the door and try the handle. Damn! Of course it's locked.
I shouldn't brute force this, not if I don't want the school blaming me.
Reaching out with a thread of power, I examine the lock. I can feel pins inside the lock. They're called tumblers I think. Focus Taylor, the name doesn't matter right now! Realizing I am on the verge of panicking I take one deep breath. With my power already inside, I exhale and start to expand the thread to fill the lock. After a few moments I can feel the tumblers are in the correct position. With a small effort of thought I turn my key of "hard air".
Hard air. God that sounds dumb. I'll think of something better once I'm out of here.
Pushing the door open I step out into the teacher's parking lot. It's quiet and dark and I know the parking lot's lights wouldn't be off unless it was after 10. Dad must be flipping out. Luckily there's a small bank of payphones about 100 feet from the school.
Walking up to the payphones, I give them a quick once over. Only one of the five is in working order. The other four have been defaced and damaged. Stupid gangs. Picking up the receiver, I suddenly realize that I don't have any change on me. Perfect. Can this night get any worse?
Looking at one of the four broken payphones, I get an idea. Reaching out with my power, I grip the bottom plate that has the keyhole for the change receptacle. With a gentle, but ever increasing pressure, I pull on the plate. The edges of the plate begin to bend.
Plate ripped free, I inspect the box inside, finding $5.50 in change. More than enough, thank god.
On the second ring my dad picks up, "Taylor? Please tell me you're alright," my dad said in a rush. The second I hear my dad's voice my eyes immediately start to tear up.
"Dad? Can you come get me? I'm in front of Winslow," I barely get out past the sob in my throat.
"Winslow? Why are you still at school? Taylor, it's nearly midnight!" I can hear the exasperation in his voice.
"Please just come get me. I'll explain everything on the way home," I manage to get out.
"Alright honey, I'll be there in about 10 minutes. Just hold on. I love you." More tears pour down my face.
"I love you too Dad."
I sit down on the curb and wait for Dad to arrive, thinking back on the day. Damn, what a catastrophe. The more I think about it, the more dread and panic set in.
They could have killed me.
They wanted to kill me. I'm sure of it.
I can't deal with this any more. The pushes, the tripping down the stairs. Ruining my homework and stealing my Mom's flute. It's just too much. I can't bear it!
My mind is spinning and I start to hyperventilate.
I'm unconscious when my dad arrives 10 minutes later and rushes me to the hospital.