Lost Haven - "We Once Believed in Heroes"

-A Week Ago-

Jaelyn Hart barely noticed the buzzing of the television as she hunched over her homework. She studied the paragraph she’d spent the last half hour writing. Her eyes lingered thoughtfully on the first sentence. We once believed in heroes. Jae blew out a heavy, angry sigh through her nose as she set her pen aside and glanced towards the rain dappled windows of her mother’s penthouse. The television’s buzzing grew annoyingly loud as the five o’clock news program began.

“Good evening Haven,” the sharp eyed report said, her tone brusque and as clean cut as her tailored red suit, “Tonight’s top story, the criminal Robert Garrick, better known as “Maverick”, is being released from jail this week.” Jae turned around quickly, her interest suddenly peeked. The sharp eyed reporter continued her curt commentary.

“Viewers may recall that Garrick was apprehended by the vigilante crime fighter known as the “Blackbird” twelve years ago after Garrick escaped from Gull Island Penitentiary. Mr. Garrick was imprisoned at Gull Island after he held Fraser High School hostage under his alias “Maverick”. During the sixteen hour long siege twenty seven civilians were killed and another thirty were injured during the ensuing battle between Maverick and the vigilante gang called “The Youngbloods”. The incident spurred Congressional action and helped create the Discowling Act, outlawing masked vigilantism. In further news…”

Jae shut the TV off with a resounding ‘click’. She moved quickly out of her seat and towards the floor to ceiling windows, her thoughts rambling. Jae crossed her arms stubbornly over her chest and let her aqua-blue eyes peer down to the boulevard below her mother’s apartment building. Her thoughts turned again to her report on the Discowling Act.

We once had heroes, Jae thought resentfully, but people have forgotten. They’ve grown complacent in their lives while violence, hate, terror, and crime grow unchecked. This city has forgotten that Lady Justice carries not only the scales of righteousness but a vengeful sword. In the hour of darkness, when evil overwhelms us, Justice’s flaming sword use to strike out at the criminal element in this city. We have forgotten that all it takes is one good man to wield that sword, to make all the difference in the scales of justice.

Jae paused in her thoughts to regard a solemn display case tucked into an alcove in the corner of her mother’s penthouse. A dim light from within the case shown down upon an elaborately designed red-gold costume bristling with stylized flames and a mask. Jae bit her lower lip, bitterness welling up in her chest again. We’ve all forgotten that, Jae reflected as she stared at the abandoned uniform.

Jae pushed a wayward lock of midnight shot hair from her eyes with a frustrated sweep of her hand. Growing up her mother had never made it a secret to Jaelyn that she had once been a super hero. Although Jaelyn’s mother rarely spoke of her days flying above the city and battling evil under the guise of “Cosmo Girl”, she never let Jae forget that she had once been a hero. Jae had spent most of her life gathering the subtle hints of her mother’s former life from gleaned conversations and those rare nights where a few too many drinks loosened her mother’s lips. The costume, a uniform Jae had only ever seen her mother wear in newspaper clips and old photographs, stood as a silent reminder to both of them of the mistakes of youth.

Jae felt a shudder of distain rush down her spine as she forced herself to look away from the dimly lit costume case. She tried not to categorize herself into that small bubble of Tig’nara Hart’s youthful mistakes, but Jaelyn knew deep down that her own existence was a matter of painful regret to Tig’nara. There were times when Jaelyn would feel her mother’s piteous gaze fall heavily on her, if only for a moment, and left Jae bereft with a sense of shame. When she was much younger, Jae would beg her mother endlessly to reveal the identity of her father to Jaelyn, but Tig’nara’s resolute answer was always the same, “When you are ready.” As she grew, Jae realized that Tig’nara wasn’t waiting for a time when Jaelyn was ready to accept the truth of her own origins, but for the time when the truth would no longer grieve Tig’nara.

Jae turned away from the rain drenched cityscape and moved back to the table. Jae ripped the paper from her binder and crumpled it between her hands with disgust. The words rolled through her head again, biting at her.

We use to believe in heroes, Jae thought cynically to herself again, now I wonder if we forgot about them, or did they give up on us? The metal lid of the trashcan flipped open with clean sufficiency as Jae dropped the crumpled paper into its polished depths. She let the lid drop with a resounding bang that echoed through the empty penthouse like a cry in a tomb.