My eyes opened. Ow, too bright want to sleep. I closed them again.

My eyes opened again. Ow, my side hurts still want to sleep. So I did.

My eyes opened once more. Ow, it is too bri… Wait, my room isn’t this bright, where the fuck am I?! I sat up with some difficulty and then looked around, there was a light blue curtain surrounding my bed on all sides. The floor was clean, white and made of linoleum and the air tainted with a pungent smell of cleaning products. There is only one place this depressingly sterile in the world, a hospital. But why would I be in a hospi…

It all came back to me in a rush and I instinctively moved my hand to my right side, nothing. Why the fuck is there no huge bleeding scar, or at least stiches? I lifted up my hospital gown and was met with an angry white scar running down from my rib to my hip bone, contrasty starkly from my bronze skin.

Why the actual fuck is it white, doesn’t that usually happen to scars you’ve had for years?

Wait, if I’m not home then, my hands shot straight up toward my face to make sure the mask was still there and much to my relief, it was.

But still why was my scar healed, and where the fuck was I?

“I can answer both of those questions.” Said a shrill voice as a man walked into the room. The man was short but not overly so and sporting a well-muscled frame from what I could guess from the bulges in his arms and legs around his costume. He had mouse brown hair thrown into disorganised mop and was currently studying me with hazel eyes.

How did he know my questions?

“It’s because I’m a telepath.” My body froze for a second, fuck a mind reader! I am so fucked, he probably knows where I live, my name, and my mother’s name. Hell I was unconscious telepaths online say reading an unconscious person is as easy as taking candy from a baby so he probably knows my cousins dog’s name (Ralph, for those who wanted to know).

He chuckled, a warm and reassuring sound and against all odds I found myself calming down. That set me even more on edge, how far in is he if he can already influence my emotions like that.

“I’m not in your head, just reading surface level thoughts. I can stop if you would like.” He smiled at me, a large warm affair showing of teeth.

“Yes, thank you.” I murmured out turns out I was really thirsty. He handed me a glass of water and I looked at him like he just shot my dog, mother fucker lied.

“Ha, I now that look. No, I’m not in your head it is just I know what is like to wake up after being unconscious for a while.” I took the water tentatively and drank.

“Alright,” I said with new found determination. “Where are we and what the fuck is up with my scar?”

“We are currently in the BCH headquarters medical and holding wing and as to what is up with your scar, that white gash you have is the result of accelerated healing via powers.” He smiled at me again, I was beginning to hate that smile.

“How long have I been here?” This one was really getting me because my mother would kill me if I was out to late.

“Not long, just an hour. As we said, accelerated healing.” Alright that was okay, that meant it was still night and I had some time before my mother would be expecting me back home.

“Alright final question, can I leave?” I was worried about this ever since he had said ‘holding wing’.

“You are free to leave,” hell yeah, I screamed internally. I thought they were going to kill me or try and enlist me for some government testing facility. “After we ask you some questions.” My heart dropped, fuck I am so fucked.

“You can’t hold me here against my will without due cause.” I said, years of watching cop shows with my mother was finally going to help me with something, fuck you school TV can teach you valuable life lessons. “So either you are going to have to arrest me or point me to the nearest door.

“Alright, you are under arrest for vigilantism. You have the right to remain silent, you have the right to an attorney…” He droned on with my rights but I was still stuck on one thing, under arrest. My mum was going to be really fucking pissed.