"Edwaaarrd! Time to wake up!"
I grumble and roll out of bed. My room is pretty tiny, which my foster parents say, "Is a perfect fit for one as small as you", which made me so goddamn mad, but I can't fight them. I mean, if I try to do alchemy or fight them in any way, they tie me to my bed and leave me there for 24 hours. NOT FUN.
"Geez, I'm coming..I need to braid my hair first."
"What the hell, Edward! Come down NOW!"
I quickly tie my longish blonde hair back and pull on some long pants because my foster parents find my auotmail leg weird. Finally I sprint down the stairs, my automail leg squeaking because I think the bolts on it are rusty.
One of my foster parents, one of two supposedly nice people, stands in the main room. A small handgun rests in the crook of her elbow.
Say what?
"Out, you other-side-of-the-gate alchemist!" she yells.
Oh crap they found out. My home country, Amstris, is in a bit of a war now, so I went to the other side of the gate to a country called England.
"OUT!" she yells again, walking over to me and pressing the gun to my back. "Or you go to heaven!"
With me clapping my hands once and then clapping them again turns the end of the woman's handgun into a spirally horn.
The woman stands very still in shock, so I make a break for it and run out of the oddly open door. The cold winter air whips my face as I run barefoot, all the way to the park, where I know some chalk is so I can draw a human transmutation circle to get back to Amstris.
After getting pulled through the portal of truth (or the gate) by the skinny black hands, I wake up near the Rockbell's house. The sunshine beats down on my face, so different from the cold air in England.
But, when I look toward the Rockbell's house, all I see is a pile of debris.
I dash at full speed toward the debris of the house, panicked.
"Winry!" I shout as I dig around in the pile of debris, forgetting to do alchemy. "Al!" No answers.
Shit, I think, desparing. I can't loose Al again.I
I feel something (or someone) grab my ankle, so I shriek, falling back on the debris and landing hard on my rear.
When I look down to see who it is, I see the face of Al, a small stream of blood trickling from his lip.
Author's note: In the next few chapters, some not-so-good things happen to Ed and Al. That doesn't mean I hate FMA, I just tend to have a very weird imagination.
