First off, I would like to thank coffee. Thank you for existing. And chocolate, oh, I hate to think of life without you :'(

But my first notion of thanks (to actual people) is to heartbeat311. You kind of saved my ass on this one, and stopped me from screwing up! You're a genius, you know that, right?

And another is to my sister, who I refer to as Satan's Spawn, but I guess every older sister is called that XD. She's the one who introduced to me to Watchmen, and to comic books in general. Thanks, sis (but I will never forgive you for eating that turkey leg!).

And the last is for Rorschach, even though, sometimes, he is a huge douche. But I still obsess over him! Haha!

Let's get this show on the road!

AnnA: Not Another Civilian

Chapter One: Problem Child

"Do you want to know who you are? Don't ask. Act! Action will delineate and define you."

― Thomas Jefferson

And now, we must wait. Here on this planet, ruled by sand that is shaded pink, a rosy, cheerful color. But where did such a lively color come from when life has not yet reached this place? But, it has been visited. Oh, by visitors that are strange. First, a man, sorrow wrapping up his whole mind, looking as blue (in more ways than one) as the planet he has come from. Pulsing with brilliant light, eyes that mimic the very beauty of the universe. Cosmos and life itself seem to swim in his eyes, yet they are filled with cold and unfeeling space. Those eyes seem to hold no compassion for life. They are frosted by the disgust of the people that cling to the speck of mud floating in space, in cold, unfeeling space. That is what is mirrored in those eyes. Those majestic eyes.

The second was a woman, beautiful and lively; you could easily tell that the Indestructible Man had a certain kind of respect and love for her, even though she was another animal that grasp onto that pathetic rock. She is irritated, and extremely emotional. But emotions are not bad, you must realize, reader. Her emotions led to the salvation of the human race. She is in a way, the mother of life.

Salvation. Where did this salvation come from? From the one who set peace back into the world, the glorious Ozymandias?

No. No, it was not.

Then, how? He is noble in his ways, devoting time and soul into the future. He saved the world. He saved peace.

And to what cost? He killed innocent people. He is not the one to deliver us. Not the one to save.

It was the woman. It was Laurie.

She's able to convince her past love that humans aren't worthless. Not even the bad ones are worthless. They just got caught up in all of the lust for wealth, possessions, love... she is able to prove that they deserve life, because life is beautiful. It's so fragile, so easily destroyed, so unique.

Months from that moment when the great Dr. Manhattan has his immense realization of great truth, Laurie will have a little girl. Her name will be Anna.

Hours from that moment, Laurie will make love to her one and only love. His name is Daniel.

Seconds from that moment, a man will die. His name is Rorschach.

Years from that moment, the most unlikely of people will meet.

From that moment, salvation was birthed onto the people. Now, they only need to accept it.

But, for now, we must wait. For the third visitor of the red planet.

May 8th, 1992

Father sits me on his lap, the smoke from the cigarette that is poised between his index finger and his middle finger drifts upward, and finds itself caught up in the blades of the ceiling fan. His usually tidy hair is messy from today's work.

"Anna," he addresses me, his cigarette now extinguished, the dying ashes of the tobacco giving off a smell, a smell I didn't really like, especially because it irritated my nose. "How was school?"

I glance down as he says my name and asks his completely harmless question, and mindlessly fiddle with the hem of my dress, my favorite dress, the dark blue one with the tiny white dots and see-through sleeves, trying to avoid the question. But as the silence stretches on, I start to worry that maybe he'll punish me if I don't answer.

School? Mrs. Hester's second grade class of Exton Heights Elementary was tolerable, except for the nasty thing Sarah Thompson said to my best friend, Madison, that earned her a nice punch in the face.

"Fine," I manage to squeak out, a pitiful excuse of an answer. God, can I sound any more frightened out of my mind?

Mother passes by the doorway of the living room, carrying a basket of laundry, and we hear her shout, "Anything but fine, Daniel!"

Wow, Momma was pissed. She only called Daddy 'Daniel' when she was really mad, because his real name was Sam, and she only used his 'other name' when something serious was going on or, you guessed it, she was ready to blow a fuse. I don't know why he has another name. They've never explained it to me.

"Anna," Daddy warns.

"I just got a little mad," I whisper. "I didn't mean to."

I feel his brown eyes continue to give me that cautioning look, and I can only lower my head like a sad puppy. I don't have the guts nor the heart to look back, like that little game we play, the 'Stare-at-Daddy-and-make-him-feel-weird' game. It was really fun to play, mostly cause I like Daddy's eyes, the dark brown mixing in with light gold. Mom says I have his eyes.

"A little?", Momma comments as she cruises by the doorway again, only this time she has magazines piled in her arms, along with loose newspaper scattered throughout the collection.

The heat that nestles my cheeks spread farther out, and I'm sure I resemble a red fire engine.

"Anna Idolon Hollis, what earned you that trip to the principal's office?", Father asks in a more serious tone, intimidating and scary.

Tears well-up in my eyes.

"Sarah called Mad a boy. That's not fair. She can dress and act however she wants. She's human too," I say, words slurred over my tears. I rub the chiffon sleeve over my eyes, and it hurts. "I'm sorry, Daddy. I just wanted Mad to know it's okay to be herself."

Here, he is taken back. He presses his mouth into a thin line, and he raises my face to look at him.

"Little Owl, that's kind of you to stand up for your friend. But hurting that girl won't solve anything. You have to find another way to answer the problem, preferably without violence," he says gently, after taking out a handkerchief and wiping away my tears.

"Then... how?"

Again, Daddy is stumped. Then, I didn't understand why he paused, contemplating his next words. But it only three years, I would.

Momma comes up beside us and wraps an arm around Father's shoulders.

"What you're supposed to do is find a diplomatic way to figure it out. Violence isn't always the answer."

I look up at them, eyes filled with wonder.

And I say something. Something that puts deep into fate, an alteration that even to this day, puzzles me.

"But what if violence is the problem?"

AN: So, end of the first chapter! Please, please, tell me what you think.

Can't wait to get Chapter Two:'Her Choice, Her Fate' up... which will be soon. Hopefully ^-^