Stellaria's Stories.

[blazearmor22]

TW: Mentions of Bullying, Trauma

Fairview Memorial Park

A redheaded girl in her late teens, nearing her twenties, wore a pale blue shirt with a jean jacket and red pants. Her somber mood was evident as she visited her father's grave, her body marked with bruises from recent encounters with gangs she had fought as a budding heroine. Selina sought guidance from her late father, just this once.

"Hi, Dad," the redhead smiled sadly at the grave, "I came to see how you were doing."

Selina sighed as she somberly sat down, gazing at her father's tombstone.

"I-I wish you were here now. I could use your help." Selina's tears began to well up as she continued, "It's hard not to fight myself and fight what's out there at the same time. My mind has been hurt by memories, and-and I don't know what to do!"

The redhead's memories of mocking, teasing, and bullying still haunted her. The gang leader's psychic power had exacerbated her traumatic memories. Sadly, she had to live with them. Selina longed to forget the mental assault, but it continued to torment her.

"It was at that time... those dreams still haunt me. I wish you could show me the right direction. At least you're in a better place."

Tears fell freely as the redhead silently sobbed, her cries more profound than ever before.

Selina remained by her father's grave for a long time, the cool breeze of the late afternoon whispering through the trees around her. The pain of her past mixed with the uncertainty of her future, creating a storm within her that she struggled to calm. The graveyard was quiet, the silence only broken by the occasional chirping of birds and the rustling of leaves. It was a stark contrast to the turmoil inside her.

"Dad," she whispered, her voice breaking, "I don't know how much longer I can keep this up. The pressure, the fear, the constant battles... it's tearing me apart."

She closed her eyes, trying to find some semblance of peace. The image of her father's kind face came to mind, bringing a small, fleeting comfort. He
had always been her rock, her source of strength. Even in death, she sought his guidance.

"I know you'd tell me to be strong, to keep fighting," she said softly. "But it's so hard without you here. I feel like I'm drowning, and I don't know how to save myself."

The memories of the assault and the bullying flashed through her mind, each one a painful reminder of her struggles. The laughter, the taunts, the physical pain... it all came rushing back, overwhelming her senses. She could feel the weight of those experiences bearing down on her, suffocating her spirit.

"But I have to keep going," she resolved, wiping away her tears. "For you, for Mom, for everyone who believes in me. I can't let them win. I won't let them win."

Selina stood up, brushing the dirt from her clothes. She took one last look at her father's grave, a sense of determination replacing the sorrow in her eyes.

"I'll make you proud, Dad. I'll find a way to be the hero you always believed I could be."

With renewed resolve, she turned and walked away from the grave, the setting sun casting a golden glow over the cemetery. The path ahead was uncertain, filled with challenges and dangers, but Selina knew she had to face it head-on. For her father, for herself, and for the world that needed her.

As she left Fairview Memorial Park, she felt a small spark of hope ignite within her. It wasn't much, but it was enough to keep her moving forward. And as long as she had that, she knew she could keep fighting, no matter what came her way.

---

Therapy Session

"I think I'm cursed," the redhead murmured with a sigh. "I feel like every time people come into my life, disaster strikes. Like a string of bad luck just follows me around."

Selina went to therapy just as her mother, Gillian, had asked her to. It was supposed to help her with her feelings of failure and shame due to her bullying. Inevitably, she came across a young woman in her twenties with a short brown bob and a small hair clip on top of her bangs. This woman was Lisa Abernathy, Selina's therapist.

"Some things are what we describe as 'Occurrences of Fortune,'" Lisa said. "They can bring you to your lowest point for a while."

"I DON'T UNDERSTAND IT!" Selina screamed in frustration and sadness. "I just don't understand how all of this has happened to me. My dad died on me, and you want to talk about 'Occurrences' or whatever?! I wanted help, not fancy mumbo jumbo."

"You don't understand, I am helping you," Lisa implored in a resounding tone. "If you hate yourself for failing to be with your father in his last days, why do you continue to punish yourself further than you already are?"

Selina seemed shocked. Was she punishing herself for her failure? At first, she felt anger rising towards Lisa for this question, but then it all came crashing down. Selina realized she was obsessed with punishing herself and the shame she endured.

"Selina, there are times like these when you must forgive yourself for what you couldn't control," Lisa smiled gently. "Your father's death wasn't your fault. It was his own ill fortune that led to his passing. So please, forgive yourself."

"I-I understand," Selina sighed. "Miss Abernathy, sometimes I don't understand it at all. But I'll try to move on, for his sake. And... I'm sorry for yelling."

"It's okay, Selina," Lisa reassured her. "It's part of the process. Just remember, it's okay to ask for help, and it's okay to let go of the past."

Selina nodded, feeling a bit lighter. She knew it wouldn't be easy, but she was determined to try. For her father's memory, for her mother, and for herself. She left the therapy session with a renewed sense of purpose, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

Edited July 30 by blazearmor22

[blazearmor22]

 

United Airport

Selina, dressed in dark blue baggy pants, a small grey crop top with a gold star on the chest, and a jacket, waits for her flight to Rhode Island. As she sits, memories of her father’s words flood back.

Flashback

A young Selina, in blue shorts and a purple shirt with violet lines, rides her bicycle with enthusiasm. Suddenly, she falls, scraping her knee and bursting into tears. Gregory, her father, rushes to her side, gently tending to her wound.

"What seems to be the problem, Sel?" Gregory asked, looking at the red-headed girl.

"Every time," Selina mumbled between tears, "I fall down every time! I tried riding the bicycle, but I keep falling! Why even bother?!"

"Remember what my old grandpa said, 'Remember how you started.'" Gregory smiled as he treated her knee injury, "That's how I want you to get up—by remembering that you started. You fixed your own bicycle, and that is good! Life isn't always sunshine and rainbows; it's a dangerous place, and I want you to make a difference."

Flashback Ends

Selina remembers that time vividly. She wanted to prove to herself that she could get up despite the difficulties and rise above them. She recalls her early days as a vigilante and how she felt it was a good start to her superheroic journey. Now, she feels like she can do more and hears of Paragon City.

One Day Ago

Ashland Household

"Are you going?" Gillian, her mother, asked.

"I hate to leave," Selina sighed, "But I have to. The university is in Paragon City, and I can't let the opportunity slip. This is my dream—to be... I don't know, an ICON's costume designer or an artist. Either way, I'll graduate with a diploma."

"I'll see you when the future brings us together again." Gillian then hugged her daughter with a heartwarming smile, and Selina returned the hug.

Now

Selina has the opportunity to prove herself, in college and heroism. She’s determined to survive in a new city, leaving her past and grief behind. Now, all that is left is... the future.

[blazearmor22]

Selina’s first days in Paragon City were anything but ordinary. Galaxy City’s destruction by the Hydra’s meteorite had left a scar on the city, and the remnants of chaos drew in heroes from all around. Starheat found herself amidst the new wave of vigilantes, each one eager to help and make a difference.

Her encounters were varied and numerous. Some were simple acts of heroism, like helping civilians out of dangerous situations or stopping petty crimes. Others were more complex, involving super-powered individuals with their own agendas.

One evening, while patrolling a quiet neighborhood, Starheat noticed a commotion in a dark alley. A young woman was being harassed by a group of thugs. Without hesitation, she swooped down, her presence enough to scatter most of them. The leader, however, stood his ground, a flame dancing in his hand.

“Think you can handle fire, cape?” he sneered, hurling a ball of flame toward her.

Starheat didn’t flinch as the fireball hit her, dissipating harmlessly. “Fire? Really? I’ve survived worse.”

The flame-wielder’s eyes widened in disbelief. “How did you…?”

“I’ve endured loss after loss,” she said, her voice softening. “You’ve suffered too, haven’t you?”

“You know nothing about me!” he shouted, his bravado faltering.

“But I do,” she replied. “I see the hurt in your eyes. You don’t have to do this. You can change.”

The words hit home for Brock Albrect, the flame-wielder. He was silent, reflecting on his life choices. Starheat’s genuine concern and understanding struck a chord.

After she left, he stood there, lost in thought. The realization of his actions and their impact weighed heavily on him. He removed his gang vest and threw it into a nearby trash can, deciding then and there to change his life.