Mira rested her book bag against her desk, feeling completely exhausted. Slipping off her uniform jacket and tossing it aside.

Being a hero was great when you were loved, but the constant pressure to save everyone, to be a powerful should of good, it took a toll.

She sighed, taking her hair clip, the power she weilded, and placed it on her night stand. She needed a rest. The bruises from the earlier fight was overwhelming pain.

Of course, being a teen, she didn’t have the choice of who would walk through the door. The door creaked open as her brother stepped in. Typical. Marlow never knocked. “You look awful.” He joked, stepping further and grabbing the thing on the nightstand, the odd hair clip he’d always seen his sister wear. He held it up and jokingly waved it, mocking her height, even though he was only a few inches taller.

Mira quickly sprung up, causing the pain to strike through her as she winced. She fought through it, reaching up, not realizing her shirt lifting up as well. Marlow continued to laugh before seeing more of the bruises on her arms. Even her stomach. But not just that, there were scars. Some newer and some older. His eyes widened. “What the hell happened? Or.. what has BEEN happening.” He asked. His tone, for the first time in a while, sounded genuinely concerned.

“I-“ she began, but her voice faded before she could even say another word. He knew her too well to believe a lie. But would he really believe the truth? Maybe being able to share a huge burden like this with someone would be good. Maybe… it would be worth it.

Mira bounced back and forth between the ideas. Would he tell dad? Would he blab to the world? An easy way to boost his popularity. But then she remembered. He hated popularity, and he hated being in her shadow. If he did tell everyone, he’d becoming even more in her shadow than before. So with all her strength, she spoke, taking the hair clip and holding it close as she stood.

“I’m… Starbeam.”

(Done ig?)