“Heidi Parker” the Fighter*

The fledgling scholar Heidi Parker was a rare child. A firefly that desired to spread her wings out. “Steady as a little preacher, free as weed,” said the mama. Grasping for air, she scaled above the lofty, sycamore trees, looking at her divided homeland. Smelling the leaves again, and again, then bearing it again; the rage she had for the town’s people stretched to great heights, but the fragrance of the wall-lining sage bushes, and the rose-scented breeze distracted her mind.

 

Suddenly, her face drowned in a sea of grief, the passion for equal acceptance from the town’s people. Roaring with castigatory remarks against innocent Heidi, and her mama, the town’s people battled it out amongst themselves – what to do with the girl. Kill her or banish her? She stood in front of that large crowd that observed her as if she were an evil curse, a wrench who needed to be destroyed. They liked her vulnerability; they liked her being feeble.

 

Can we blame the girl? What is her mistake that she was different, that she held telepathic powers, that she was unlike them?

 

Notwithstanding the negative energy neighbouring her as if darkness had taken her surroundings like she was locked in a dungeon. An air of melancholy surrounded her, yet she ignored the thoughts, and paraded down the pebbles away from the people. For being inversely inimitable, intelligent, and full of life, she was certainly a strong bird. The segregation in this town had swirled the acts of unkindness in the levels of intolerable discomfort.

 

Another day, another night gone, Heidi came back from school, and entered her home. To her horror, her family had been wiped out. And suddenly sirens, after sirens playing in her head. She stood spread-eagle until it shrank to fit her, shuddered at the creepy sensation of life-like silk caressing her skin. In a frenzy, she fell to the ground, hitting her head. It was all too much – the shocking revelation of her family’s murder.

 

That night, the clouds dispersed into distinct sections, motioning to be wary of a storm heading its way. The gust of wind that eloquently made the foliage interchange side to side. The roads moving almost as if an earthquake had come to seek a home. The hurricane-like wind made the town’s civilians’ eyes, unbolted to be greatly mindful of calamity. The unforgivable mistake of theirs. Punishment was looming over their heads; they would not see the dawn again.

 

With the thunderous lightening reaching its peak, and hitting anything in its way, a fuming, heated Heidi walked along the pavement. A young girl who was fifteen years old who looked as delicate as a bug. Today she was riding with the wind, riding with the lightening,  riding with the clouds. She came in front of the town’s people, and began mechanically smiling in the most eerie of faces. Her eyes turned bloodshot red, black vapour came out of her ears, fire was encircling her in a sphere. She looked them in the eyes, and began to raise her hands much higher than her. And then, without a moment of delay, she shouted, “You will pay now for your crimes” and boom. The sounds of everything being demolished, the smell of sweet revenge made victory, and she had definitely killed them. The entire town – wiped out.

 

That’s our Heidi Parker, the girl who could play with fire.

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