It takes nearly a full day for Ion to get back home. 

It is dark when she gets home. Except for her that is.

She takes a deep breath and braces before she enters.

"Isabella! Where were you?"

A spike of anxiety. Ion feels the energy insider her begin to flare. Brighter than before. She can feel something inside her. A power yearning to be let out.

Oh no. That is... not good.

Ion closes her eyes, taking a few deep breaths.

Her Mom takes a few steps back

"What... What happened?"

Ion's glow returns to it's regular level.

"Oh? I uh.... wanted some fresh air. So I went on a walk?"

It didn't sound plausible even to herself. Her mom clearly didn't buy it.

"You have been gone for an entire day! Your father and I have been worried sick!"

Okay, need an opening to end this conversation. Time to go on the offensive

"No. You have been worried sick. Dad doesn't give a shit about me since I started to glow!"

Her mom takes a step back. Ion feels the start of regret but pushes forward.

"Nobody gives a shit! I'm alone in my room, treated like a freak by the people who are supposed to love me."

Ion can see her mom starting to hurt. She'll be disorient for the next few seconds. Enough time to escape.

Ion marches into her room and shuts the door

Ion is stripped of her clothes, and her possessions.

The guards say things. They aim guns at her.

She goes where she is pointed to.

She can feel the energy inside her still.

She could kill everyone around her. 

Her light flares with that thought, and an effort of will forces herself to calm down . Back to the regular glow.

These jobs... They broke me. They made everything worse.


They shover her roughly into a cell.

There is not light. Just thick concrete walls. 

Ion waits until she is alone. Then screams. 

The light around her flash. The energy within her swells then explodes out . She can feel bits of her skin and hair turning into pure energy when she explodes. 

I'm not human any more. I'm a shell around a walking bomb.

Ion keeps screaming when her throat reforms. 

Then she cries.

Then she explodes again. 

Then she keeps screaming, and crying, until her body and mind can't handle it anymore, and she passes out into a deep sleep.



When she wakes she begins to slowly carve lines in the wall. 33 lines, for 33 people killed.

This cell is similar.

It takes Ion a week before she finishes replicating the 33 marks on her old prison cell. 

In the first cell, the last few marks had been made by Ion's glowing blood on the wall. 

After a few days that had faded, and left a discolored patch, where the wall had degraded some.

So, in this cell, Ion licks a thumb, and experiments. After a few days, she can see the degradation.

Then it is a slow process. Gathering enough spit to coat her thumb, drawing a mark, then checking that it made enough of a mark.

The rest of the time is practice. She needs to control her glow. It's the only way she will be able to... she can't be normal any more.. but maybe sometimes she'll feel normal.

----- Two weeks in

Ion's cell door opens.

The guards wear what could be accurately described as bomb suits. 

"Okay Isabella. You've been approved to have 30 minutes at the phone. Your calls will be monitored. "

Ion considers not calling anyone.

If she doesn't do anything, she won't have to fight. She won't have to hope. To see the disappointment in her parents eyes.

She thinks back to the monsters.

To the 33.

She needs to find a way to make this right.

Maybe the government can use her for something. Maybe the government has like. Some X-men type deal for supernatural people with hard to control powers.


Fuck.

I need to start somewhere.

She calls for help

Ion practices her ASL. 

It is.... harder. Her finger being gone give her... an accent. She needs to relearn. But. All she has in her is her thoughts.

Feeling her power. Feeling the energy and the molecules in her body. The combustion of energy. Her matter and energy.

Her hand twitches. 

She looks down. 

There is a nub where before there was no part of her finger. 

She blinks. 

How...? The Painting! The painting that Alex...

Ion glows brightly as her cheeks flush.

Oh! Oh... They... They are ... Fixing the painting. 

There is a warning beep from the automated system in the corner of the room.

Ion stops breathing. The light starts to dim. Slowly. Under her control.

Breathing is nice. Ion likes it. But it is by far the more pleasant way of suppressing the glow.... Being back in that day. Dimming her emotions. Wallowing in the depression that keeps herself, and her light dimmed.