I wanted to write something epic, something that would blow the minds of many. Like Star Wars when it first hit the theaters and EVERYONE went back to at least see it twice. Yet, I chose a lame title like this. Why? I'll admit it had a little bit to do with the fact that while I was brainstorming ideas I was lessoning to Blink 182. But there was also the fact that the small things in life can actually be the most amazing. I know that doesn't make since now, since you're probably thinking "wouldn't a fantasy book full of action and adventure be more amazing?" but I'll get around to explaining why soon enough. In the meanwhile, sit in your favorite reading spot, lean back, and get yourself conferrable; it's gonna be a long story.

Chapter One Why this even began

Where did this all start? It didn't come out of the blue. No this was something that was developed over time; or in this case, my lack of caring leading to my terrible grades.

"Kiba these grades are not acceptable." Iruka began as I leaned back in my seat and began rocking back and forth. "In fact, these are the worst grades I've ever seen." I think the fact he was a teacher was supposed to emphasize that, somehow. I rolled my eyes.

"Not like I'm going to college anyway."

Or at least, not at the rate I was going. He then took in a big whiff of air through his noise. He clearly wanted to scream but refrained himself by exhaling.

"Listen, Kiba, I know it may not seem important now, but having at least graduated from high school is going to help you in the long run."

That was true. I hated admitting it, but with everyone competing for jobs it was hopeless to even try without it. The problem was… I was dumb. Why else would I be failing? I leaned back and looked at him dully.

"Well, what do yeah reckon I do? It's not like I can pull an A out of my butt."

"No, but with hard work and studying I'm sure even you can pull off a C." Again I rolled my eyes, he sighed. "It's not often I do this…but I do have an ultimatum for you."

"Ulta-matoo?"

He pretty much ignored me as he began typing away on his computer then turning the screen towards me.

"There's a writing competition going on now between the schools. Students write a book over the summer and turn them in when school starts. Do this and I'll give you an A in literature." I gagged. Sounded like a lot of work. Besides, who'd do something like that over the Summer? He sighed. "You could win up to two thousand dollars." Unless of course there was money involved. I grinned.

"Where do I sign up?"

Rules were pretty basic. No mentioning sex, drugs, or alcohol and that was it. Oh and it needed to be X amount of pages, but I didn't think much of it. All I could think about was the sweet two thousand. I grinned like a maniac as the thought of me driving on a motorcycle crossed my mind. Granted it wouldn't be a new one since a nice one now in days wouldn't sell for that much, but new and shiny wasn't my style anyways.

Vibrations from my pocket snapped me out of my hallucination and I flipped the top of my cell phone bringing it close to my ear.

"Yo."

"Dude, where you at?"

"Ch, heading home man."

"Swing by the mini mart, white boy's gonna bring by some smokes."

I snorted. White boy was this nickname we gave to this pale little nerdy kid who was trying to be one of us. It was sad really, cause it was never gonna happen.

"You guys have got ta stop teasing him."

"Whaaaa-? No man, it's cool. He wants to do this."

"Whatever. I'm not in the mood anyways."

"Later then?"

"Yeah."

I hung up and turned into the alleyway to take a short cut.

By now your probably thinking I'm one of those kids who did drugs, I wasn't, but the thought had crossed my mind. I did smoke though. Not heavily, heck I hardly ever did. Usually it was when I was having a bad day or the boys happened to have a pack on them; which again hardly ever happened cause we weren't old enough to go buy them ourselves. You're probably even thinking 'oh it's one of those stories about a black kid who grew up in the Bronx and in a gang or something. Well, surprisingly, I'm not black. Just very tan. So why name the kid white boy when some of us where white? Cause he was such a stereotype of a perfect little white boy it actually made some of us sick. As for the whole Bronx thing, that's in New York. I'm not from New York. Even though I've never been there I bet it was just as bad.

I eventually got home and let myself in.

"I'm home!"

"Shud-up!" My sister yelled, yeah she's fucking loud. I rolled my eyes as I kicked off my shoes and walked towards the kitchen. "God, sorry Sarah. My brother can be so annoying."

I opened the fridge scanning it for something edible. When did she become such a dick? I shrugged and pulled out the gallon of milk and began chugging it down as I closed the door.

"He did what? Ah hell no, nah uh, girl you best be letting him go. Don't put up with that shit."

Sarah has a boyfriend? I rolled my eyes as I tossed the empty milk carton on the counter and wiped the milk residue from my face before heading up to my room. Girls, I don't think I'll ever understand them.

As I reached the top I noticed mom's door open. Did she leave today? I walked quietly to the door, opening it slightly and took a peek. Nope, she was still there sitting in her usual spot.

"Hey mom."

She then slowly turned her head towards me, blinked a few times, then back at one of the many plastic bags around her. I try again.

"Hey mom." I then walked in cautiously towards her "I saw the door open. Did you go somewhere?"
I had to be patient with her. Like I would a child. She's…a little out of it.

"No…just shower."

"Oh, that's good, that's good…"

I nodded happily. It still smelled though. I offered many times to clean her room but she completely refused. It was her stuff, it wasn't my place to be going through it, even if half of it was trash.

"Do you need anything?" There came no response, she just continued sitting there, staring. "If you need anything, call me, okay?" I slowly walked backwards and was about to leave-

"Kiba…"

I snapped in eagerness.

"Yes?"
"…close the door behind you."

I slumped as my excitement died.

"Yeah, sure thing."

And with that closed the door behind me. I sighed and headed towards my room.

To be honest I have no idea what's wrong with her. She's been to the hospital a lot, but even they can't identify the problem. How many years do you go to school for this shit? 8? And how much money do they pay so they can be special and begin they can be called a doctor? And they still don't know shit! Some of the doctors were convinced she was just acting since she started behaving like that after dad left and just wanted drugs to cope… I don't think she's acting, but they don't take kids like me seriously.

I kicked the door open and walked into my room flinging my book bag on the bed. I stood there contemplating what to do, I then sighed as I decided it would be best to probably start writing. I pulled out an unused notebook and stared at the empty page. Then flipped through the pages, that was a lot of paper. Opening it back up at the first page I then tapped my pencil at my chin while thinking up of ideas. What is it these people want to read? Heck, what do people want to read in general? All I got was mushy vampires covered in glitter, and gagged at the thought. Girls and their trashy romance novels. No, I didn't want to write something lame like that. I glanced around my room for inspiration. It wasn't until I saw one of my posters of an alien beaming up some random chick when an idea hit me. Aliens, why not?

There once was a boy named-

I was stumped. What would be a really cool name to use? I then snorted at the realization of something. What would be a better name than my own?

Kiba. Life was extremely dull and boring. Until one day, from out of nowhere, aliens came to Earth and began abducting people! Amongst them was Kiba, who was taken far out into the depths of space!

As I was writing I was too distracted to hear the car outside that was speeding by our house before the people inside began shooting. At the first sound of gun shoots I panicked and dived under the bed as the gun shoots continued. It couldn't have been from an average gun it continue shooting even after six shots. It seemed like forever and I could hear my sister down stairs screaming. I would be too, but I think I was too in shock to really do anything other then huddle into a ball. Once the firing was over I slowly got up and peeked above my bed. There were tiny holes all over my bedroom wall and my room was more of a miss than usual. Glancing down I then noticed that for whatever reason my notebook was untouched. Shakily I took the pencil and crossed out a line and replaced it entirely.

Amongst them was Kiba who was taken somewhere very VERY far away from the place he once knew as home.