Something for fun!

This is just something that spilled out of my head today. It was kind of fun to write and something soooo different than the Fall of Angels. It's probably a total mess since it's just a very fast first draft but I had fun with it. Maybe you'll all like it too!


My name is Tara Evensong and I’m a superhero.

I always knew I was one, my mom’s one. She kind of kicks butt. My dad’s a pretty cool guy too, he’s a fireman. No superpowers involved there. And then there’s my little brother, Xavier, twelve years younger than me. Ya, he was a surprise to us all. I can’t say I’m sorry he came along, he loves me more than anyone else ever could.

But back to the superhero thing. Apparently it only passes down in women in families. It just kind of shows up in men. Doesn’t make much sense to me, but then, how does anything about being a superhero make sense? So my mom’s one, my grandma is one. It was her dad that just randomly changed on his sixteenth birthday. Happy sweet sixteen.

I’m just a normal fifteen-year-old girl though. Straight brown hair, average build. I guess I do have the weird eyes. They’re green, just a little too bright though. Oh, and then there’s the fact that I can fly, and I’m kind of super strong. No other weird things, like super hearing and sight. That’s my mom’s area. And she’s super fast and I swear, knows everything.

It’s hard enough, being a teenager without having to worry about saving the world.



“What are you wearing?” I asked, my eyebrows scrunching together.

Tracy Morgan, my best friend for as long as I could remember walked down her front steps wearing black leggings, a totally too tight, lace-up-something corset thing, and bright red stilettos. “Are you wanting to look like a street hooker?”

“I just wanted to try something a little different today,” she said defensively as she started down the sidewalk with me.

“Ya, and this has nothing to do with the fact that Josh Stone just broke up with his girlfriend,” I said as I rolled my eyes. She’d been in love with him since the fourth grade. I didn’t understand why he hadn’t gone for her yet, Tracy was beautiful in every way I wasn’t. Her dad was black and had given her perfectly curly hair, amazing lips, and a gorgeous complexion. Not to mention curves in all the right places that I was sadly missing.

“Of course not,” she said. I didn’t miss the way her lips curved up just slightly.

“You could have eased up on the tram look though,” I teased.

“Excuse me!” she shrieked. “I do not look like a tramp.”

I just laughed and shook my head. Just then I heard someone running up behind us and felt my shoulders slump a little.

“Hey, Tara! Wait up!”

I didn’t bother to look back, I knew who was coming.

Preston Gage came panting to join us. He was short, he barely even came to five feet, had poor skin, and was cursed to be poor as well. Even though I would never admit it, I thought the glasses he wore were cute. He’d developed a sad obsession with me however over the summer.

“Hi Preston,” Tracy said, her voice too friendly. I guess this was the payback for saying she looked like a tramp.

He finally seemed to notice Tracy and his eyeballs nearly popped out of his head when they reached her nonexistent neckline. I thought I saw a little drool leak out of the side of his mouth.

“Preston,” I said a little too loudly, coming to Tracy’s chest’s rescue. “Did you need something?”

“Uh…” he stuttered as he forced himself to look away. Perv. “No, I just thought I’d escort you to school this morning.”

I didn’t really care if he saw me roll my eyes. You were lucky if you got paired with Preston for a chemistry lab but cursed if he had you in his “instant chemistry” fantasies. “Whatever. Come on Tracy or we’re going to be late for pre-calc again.”

My fellow captives flooded into the doors of East Highlands High School. All seven hundred forty-five of us. It was kind of a small school, but I think I liked it better that way.

The high school had been build only about five years ago when West Highlands High School got too over crowded. So they build us a new school and kicked us “middle-class” kids out. West Highlands was where all the money was. The mansions, the pools, the expensive cars. Us East Highlanders were just too normal. West Highland also had cops patrolling their school every day with dogs. Drugs were bought and sold there like candy bars and soda.

Tracy followed me into Spanish and I just shook my head when she swayed her hips just a little too much as she walked in front of Josh. I had no doubt it made her day when his eyes bugged out.

Even though this was my second year in Spanish, I still didn’t understand hardly anything Señora Martinez was saying. I should be failing the class but my mom had this weird obsession with my homework. She kind of liked to do it herself. Like I said, I think she knows everything but don’t tell her I said that.

A folded up piece of paper landed on my desk and Tracy’s head snapped back to attention at the board. I unfolded it and saw her note written there.

Josh is TOTALLY staring at me! Guess the “tramp” look worked. :P

I glanced back and saw that she was right. Josh was learing in Tracy’s direction.

Not so sure that’s how you want to be getting his attention. What’s he supposed to expect if you dress like that?

I flipped the note back onto her desk.

Tracy would hardly talk to me the rest of the day and told me during fourth period that she was getting a ride home with Josh.

During my last class of the day, ancient world history, my phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out under my desk, making sure to keep it out of Mr. Hill’s scope. I groaned when I saw it was a text from my mom.

MAJOR PROBLEM. CAN YOU GET OUT OF CLASS?

Texts like this were never good and often involved gore and a lot of bruises for me afterward.
I’LL TRY. I texted her back.

As soon as Mr. Hill had the class reading a very boring chapter about the fall of Rome I took my chance and went up to his desk, my backpack slung over one shoulder.

“I’m really sorry, Mr. Hill but do you think I could head home now,” I said, trying my best to make my voice sound pained.

“And what is the problem, Miss Evensong?” he said without looking up from his crossword puzzle.

“I started my period yesterday and have super bad cramps.” There, say no to that!

Mr. Hill squirmed. Mission successful. “Fine. Here’s your hall pass,” he said as he scribbled something down on a piece of paper and handed it to me.

“Thanks,” I said, flashing him a smile before I walked out the door.

As soon as I was out the doors and sure no one was watching I hit the sky.

Flying was second nature to me, easy as breathing, as they say. It just took a running start and a jump and I was airborne. I didn’t hardly even have to think about the direction I wanted to go or how high, it just happened. I loved flying, the feel of the wind in my hair and all that. It did make me feel like a freak though, being able to defy gravity.

Two minutes later I set down in my backyard and dashed into the house.

“Who’s about to end the world now?” I called as I walked into the dining room and set my bag down.

“Your father’s books,” I heard my mother call from the living room.

“What?” I said to myself and walked in to see what she was talking about.

I just rolled my eyes as I walked in and found all the furniture rearranged. My dad’s huge bookcase was sitting in the middle of the room and my mom looked out of sorts.

“I got it that far and nearly knocked it over,” she said as she looked at the thing with the evil eye. Mom’s are so good at that look. Good thing she’s one of the good guys.

“You know, you could have unloaded it and it would have been a whole lot easier,” I said as I walked over to it and slid it along the floor, being careful not to let any of the books tumble out.
“Ya, well,” she just shrugged.

Once I had it where she wanted I started toward the bathroom. “I don’t think this constitutes as a “major problem” that justifies pulling me out of school,” I said as I closed the door and set to doing my business.

“Oh, I’ll just do your homework for you, will that make it up?” she called as she walked into the kitchen.

“Only if it’s my Spanish homework, and chemistry!”

“I’m on it!”

I shook my head and flushed and washed my hands. My mom was kind of like a genius with the mindset of a thirteen-year-old sometimes. I guess that was why we got along so well.