You know, I'd never really had a family or place to call home until I met the Blaze boys. My parents were cold and didn't really care about me, preferring to neglect me than to bother to make sure I was okay. One day, to my utter joy, they said were going to a carnival, promising that we'd have lots of fun. When we got there, they bought me a silver and black cat plushy. It was the first toy they'd ever given me in the entire five years of my life. My eye was caught by some brightly colored cotton candy, causing me to look at it. I turned back around towards my parents to ask if I could have some only to realize they were gone.
I'd been abandoned. I should have known that this was too good to be true. What better way to ditch your kid, than at a carnival full of people who wouldn't notice? Not knowing what else to do, I sat against a nearby tent and began to cry. Even though they'd never really cared for me, they were still my parents, and I'd loved them, even though they didn't love me. I jumped when a warm hand touched the top of my head and looked up to see a large man and a boy. They were obviously father and son, both with blond hair and blue eyes.
"What's wrong, darlin?" he had this gentle drawl to his voice.
"M-my parents l-left me," I felt another useless tear fall down my face.
"Oh," he murmured, pulling me into his chest to comfort me. I'm still not entirely sure why I wasn't freaked out about having a strange man hold me in his arms. Maybe it was because I instinctively knew that he'd never hurt me, and maybe it was also because he found the time to comfort a sad, lost little girl when so many others had even glanced my way.
I'll never forget that day.
I learned their names; Barton and Johnny Blaze. Barton was Jonny's father, and he'd tried to get me to call him by his first name, but I called him Blaze instead, not being able to correctly pronounce "Barton." I would always say "Bawtin," no matter how hard I tried, so I just gave up. Johnny and I became best friends, both of us learning tricks to add to the carnival. I call it a carnival, but it was sort of like a circus because Both Blaze boys did motorcycle stunts. I, on the other hand, was taught how to throw knives and do gymnastics as part of a different show. I also learned to love motorcycles, and Blaze promised me one for my eighteenth birthday on August 19.