*bangs head against wall repeatidly* I just can't stop can I? Sonofa-*Ahem!* Anyhow, yes, another new story! XD Oh A.D.D, thank you sooo much! I'm being sarcastic, but anyway, you clicked on this because you want to check it out at least, so I'll stop rambling up here, and get on with the story ^0^ Oh, and since this is all just a big flashback, it will be in all Italise, especially since for this chapter, it's in first person point of view.

~X[Prolouge]X~

It's strange really. I can remember that day as if it was yesterday, even though it was a few months ago already. I remember that Dad was freaking out when Mom went into early labor with my little brother. I even remember the clothes everyone was wearing. Even the way my hair was styled that day; A mess as usual. I had been dressed in a plain grey shirt, and black cargo shorts. Dad was wearing dark grey baggy pants with an off-white shirt. Mom was just in a simple dress. Long and flowy.

I remember she said she had been having a lot of pains recently and that they should get it checked out soon. But when they did check her, and my little brother. They couldn't find anything wrong with either of them. But as I was saying, the whole house was in an uproar except for me. I was playing with some toys in my room at the time. Mom's doctor walked in through the front door briskly. Dad followed behind. Of course, I began to tail behind into the master bedroom where everyone else was, but Dad shooed me out and said

'children shouldn't be in this room right now.'

I was sad and tried to throw a fit, but he told me that now was not the time for that, and shut the door after I was ushered out of the room. I thought they were all just trying to hog my little brother so I couldn't see him. At the time, I didn't understand why everyone else was so freaked out. But later I learned that my brother wasn't supposed to be born when he was. So, I just hung out in the hallway, playing with one of my favorite stuffed animals, a little black panther plush. After what seemed like years, which were only a few hours, I heard more clamor from the room. Shouts as well.

Curiosity got the best of me and I quietly cracked the door open. Mom was crying, and Dad was by her side. I shifted my view over to Mom's doctor, to see that he was trying to get my little brother to breathe, because he wasn't. My brows had furrowed out of confusion at what he was exactly hooking the baby up to. So, I just strolled right in.

'Is little brother okay?' I had asked.

I didn't get a responce, but Mom made me come and lay beside her. I obeyed and she held me tight.

'Mommy, is he okay?' I had asked again.

She told me that little brother wasn't breathing and he might not start to either. My face fell slightly, and I broke from her grip. Despite my Dad's shouting at me to get back here, I casually strolled up to where Mom's doctor was hooking my little brother up to a weird machine. So, I just tapped on my little brothers hand. I told him that it was time to get up. Mom just cried even harder after I had said that. I added in that he couldn't sleep forever.

'Wake up sleepyhead, get your head out of the clouds.'

Right after I said that, he coughed and quietly whimpered. Then I turned around to look at my mother.

I told her, 'See? He was just sleeping.'

She then wiped her eyes and stopped crying. Later on, when most of the commotion had died down, Mom's doctor told her about my little brother, I knew the news wasn't good. He said

'Those pains you've been feeling lately, was him basicly crying out for air, because he had somehow started to suffocate. The lack of oxygen to his brain caused something to go wrong with his mental develpoment. Since it had been happening for a long time, I can guestimate that his mental state will not go past the age of a one year old.' Mom and Dad were so sad when they heard this. But he continued.

'He will never walk, he will never talk, and right now, he can't even breathe on his own.'

Mom and Dad grew even more sad. I just stared blankly at him. I refused to believe any word he said. If my little brother could live through choking out for air, then he would be able to overcome whatever got in his way! The next few months got rough for us all. When my little brother, in which Mom named him, Cloud, was only three months old, Dad died outside of Midgar from bandits. Mom was sad for awhile. I didn't blame her. I was sad too.

But just a few days later, when we woke up, we realized that Cloud's breathing tube had come off during the night. She started to freak out, but then I pointed out that he was breathing on his own. He woke up just fine too. Mom held him for a long time. I got to as well after a lot of begging. I took him to my room and showed him around. His little blue eyes were darting around wildly, taking in this new surrounding. I showed him all my favorite stuffed animals, and since he took to one of them so much, I let him keep it. It was a little yellow chocobo. He had it in his little arms almost all the time.

But otherwise, his breathing was good, but he still couldn't even sit up on his own yet, not even with help. I felt really bad for him. So whenever I could, I tried to teach him how to sit up. It took him a long time to get it down. He could first sit up on his own when he was six months old. For a normal child, they would usually be crawling around this age. But hey, He was my little brother, and I'd love him no matter what. Now Cloud was about ten months old, he just started to learn to crawl. Even though I though he was just dragging himself across the floor because he didn't really have that get go. Technically, he had to drag himself around. Once he learned to move around on his own, he followed me or Mom everwhere we went.

He couldn't express any emotions. He hadn't gotten giggles or squeals down yet. He'd get there though. When he was a year and two months, he learned to show emotions, and now he could even crawl properly and stand up on his own for a few seconds. He was already defying what everyone else who ever encountered him ever said. He didn't learn anything new for a long time after that. He didn't learn how to talk until he was a little over two years old. He still hadn't gotten walking down yet. But there was one thing he could, and loved, to do.

Draw.

He would scoot himself over to his spot in the living room, and draw on peices of paper taped to the walls, so he wouldn't color on the walls. I even helped him color too. He would get so upset if one of the crayons he was coloring with broke or ran out. He'd start crying until he'd either get a different color in his hand, or that same color was replaced with a newer crayon.

You won't believe how many check-ups he had to have. He had to see three doctors a day in the beginning, then it was cut down to three a week. They kept saying he was a medical mystery, or kept trying to disagnose his condition. He never liked the needles, let's just say that much.

When he was two and a half, he started to take an intrest in TV. He would watch some programs with me. Even if he really didn't understand them. When he got bored, he'd go right to coloring again. Drawing bunches of pictures that really made no sence. But to him, they were masterpeices. Well, now Cloud just turned three, about six days ago. We celebrated his birthday, just me and Mom. he enjoyed it greatly.

Well, enough of the past. Time to talk about the present now.