First memory
Sometimes I envy Megamind of his eidetic memory. I envy him that he remembers his parents, even though he was just an eight days old infant, when the black hole sucked both our worlds; that he can easily recall faces of his parents and the last words they've said to him. I am aware that he, on the other hand, envies me that I don't remember the whole event. And he probably has some right. I don't know if I would be my carefree self, remembering something like that.
Still I would like to know how my parents looked alike or how their voices sounded. Not to mention that I would like to know what kind of thoughts passed through their minds when they were sending their child to the foreign planet and not knowing where my pod will land.
When I'm thinking about my parents – my real parents – I can only see a blurred figures surrounded in the white light. They both have bright colors, however I can easily tell them apart from the white background. Whenever I think about it, I can recall a weird, but sweet smell. A bit like a vanilla, a bit like honey, I'm not sure. Maybe it was some flower or perfumes I don't know about. But whenever I remind myself of it, I can't help but wonder if this is how my mother smelled, when she was holding me in her arms.
But it's hard to call it a memory. It's more like a dream, moreover – a dream that is out of my reach. However, to dream about something wouldn't you suppose to know a thing about you dream of? I guess, I'm condemned to never be sure of my parents' appearances.
I don't remember being put into space pod or coming to the Earth. I don't remember landing under Scotts' Christmas tree or that I was flying few inches from their living room's ceiling. My first real memory is my surrogate mother, lady Petula Scott, holding me in her arms and singing to me Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star. Her face was smiling at me, her voice was soft and calm. My eyelids slowly dropped down and I fell asleep, still having this melody in my ears.
Hearing it, I felt happy and safe. Yes, you've heard it right – safe. Because even with my superpowers I still was just a little baby. And just like any other baby I needed to be assured that there was no monsters under my bed or in my closet. Scotts were a great parents, after all, and I don't feel ashamed to call them mom and dad.
But funny thing – even when I had happy childhood and a loving family, sometimes I was opening my windows and looking at the night sky, wondering about my parents.
Everybody is melting about Megamind past and about his parents, so I wanted to write something about Metro Man thinking of his origins. We seriously need more fics about Metro Man's childhood.
Sorry that fic is so short. Maybe next ones will be longer.
