AN; Hey, guys. This is for my sister's story, just a bunch of stuff about some of the characters in it. She is NutmegKitten725 and the story this is for is Into the New World Book 2 A Warrior's Heart. Read book 1 first. I'll possibly write this for her other books in this series. Oh, and by the way, this chapter has drunk guys in it. Like, evil drunk guys. X3

Chapter 1

I wake up in my bed in the attic. Calls ring through my ears, and I'm suddenly remembered of last night. Dad came home drunk again last night, and Mom wasn't so happy about that. She's tried to calm him down, but that hadn't stopped him from hitting my little sister AutumnLover. Now she was lying on the floor of my room, curled up in some blankets I'd been able to spare. Thin blankets. I always slept without any blankets. I would have slept on the floor as well, but Autumn insisted I didn't.

She sits up and rubs her big brown eyes, her auburn-colored hair falling evenly on her shoulders. Freckles sprinkle my sisters nose, and I reach up my hand to touch my own, plain face. Silvery-gray eyes, thick black hair, and a pale, set chin. The rest of my family have hair in different shades of red, and brown or green eyes. They all have freckles, too. Maybe that's why my parents keep me in the attic all the time. So I won't embarrass them.

"Aaron," Autumn whispers, watching my eyes carefully. "You can't run away. Remember last time?"

I do remember the last time I'd tried to run away. Mom and caught me and brought me home, Dad locking me in the attic. Two days I'd stayed here, no food or drink, until they let me out. AutumnLover had convinced them to. I owe my life to her for that.

I shake my head, clearing it of those horrible memories. "I'm not running, Autumn," I say, choking out the words. A moment ago, I'd have been lying. But I realize now that it's true; I'm not going to run away from my problems anymore. "Come here." I pat the bed next to me, and Autumn sits down beside me.

Her arm is covered in bruises. I take it in my hands and concentrate, feeling my body turn icy-cold. Autumn flinches as the coldness seeps into her skin, but then smiles when she sees the darker splotches on her arm disappear.

I've always been able to heal people. But only Autumn knows that. She smiles at me, then quickly hops off to the bathroom to get dress. I pull on a white shirt and jeans, then slip down the stairs and outside.

The warm summer air smells of grass and trees and fresh blossoms, just now popping up out of the ground. Mom's sunflowers have turned, their faces watching the sun which is just beginning to rise.

A pot clangs on the floor near the door. Mom is chasing Dad out of the house, and he'll only take his anger out on his children. So I sprint for the fence around our house and clear it in a single leap, landing hard on the sidewalk outside of it. The air out here is still a bit cool from the night.

There is nothing I want to do more now than run away. But I promised Autumn I wouldn't. Oh, how can I stay here any longer? I barely got any sleep last night, thinking about how strange I am with the rest of the family. I'm beginning to think crawling off to sleep in the meadow again today is a much better idea than just living without sleep.

When I reach the meadow, I curl up in the place beneath the willow tree. It's beside the river, which rushes by lazily, as though it has nothing better to do today in the warm heat of summer. In fact, the meadow looks amazingly beautiful today. I almost don't want to sleep. I almost want… to paint it. Like I used to in those good old days before Autumn was taken to school, Dad lost his job, and started getting drunk.

I reach under the roots of the willow and pull out a canvas and other art supplies. Reaching into my black boot, I pull out a mahogany-handled paint brush, still clean from the last time I used it. All my paints are safe: The brilliant red made from crushed rose petals; dark blue created out of chips of lapis lazuli; beautiful dark green made from cooked cacti; and brown, from the cocoa Autumn brought me on my last birthday.

I set up my things and watch the river rush by for another minute. Then, as though taken over by some old painter spirit, my hand moves into the paint, and the brush flows across my canvas as though moving on its own. I don't take my eyes from the river until I'm done, and I rinse my brush in its cool, clear waters. Hopefully, the painting is as good as my other paintings are.

Suddenly, I realize how thirsty I am. Parched, in fact. There's not a drop of liquid left in my mouth.

So I pick up my cup I always keep with me and get some water. I drink it quickly, then step back to admire my work.

The water in my painting appears to be frozen, but the colors are spot on with the one in real life. The grass is beautiful, swayed to the left by a cool breeze. And there isn't anything off about it at all. In fact, it's almost as though I've taken a photo of the meadow and claimed it as my own work.

I happily curl up beneath the tree, knowing that this day will never be forgotten as long as it lives on in my painting.

XxX

I open my eyes in the most hellish place I've ever seen. Giant white squids swim past me overhead, occasionally shooting a bit of fire at some of the other creatures in my dream world. Pigs with rotten flesh rome the world. They carry with them golden swords, and I can see their ribs, a last bit of flesh clinging to them for dear life. Giant red fire-slimes leap past, a small trail of flames follow their every move. But the fire douses as each fire-slime moves away from it. Dark gray-colored skeletons walk along the landscape, carrying bows and shooting at the flying squids. Finally, golden fire creatures, with odd, golden-colored stick-like body parts moving around them. They sound like iron on stone, scarping its surface. They shoot fireballs at the other creatures as well.

At first I am terrified. What are these things, and how in the name of Notch did my imagination think them up? Then I notice a dark figure moving among them.

The monsters part to let him through. He's wearing a tattered light blue shirt and torn of blue jeans. The figure has a mop of black hair, and I reach up to touch my own hair. Have I created my own family inside my head? A place where I will fit in?

Then the man opens his eyes, which confirms my horror. His eyes are a glowing white, and when he steps into the light I see his face. His chin is an exact replica of mine, and I'm suddenly even more terrified than before. Who is this man? How did he get here? What does he want with me?

"I am Herobrine," he says, his voice loud and booming. "You may or may not have heard of me. But if you've heard bad stories, I am afraid they are true. I created monsters. Zombies, skeletons, creepers, the whole lot of them. My brother, Notch, hated me because I made life much more challenging for the people living in your world. He had given me the task of creating creatures. I also made fish and squids and cats and cows. Every creature on your planet, except Minecraftians, was created by me. I made fire, which proved dangerous, but powerful when tamed. Water, which could defeat fire, was also made by me. Also deemed dangerous because you can drown. Notch banished me here, where I am forced to live out my days, continuously making things only I can see the good in. And you, Aaron27, are my son."

I fall over in shock and terror, scrambling backward. This man, Herobrine. He is so much like me. Always doing things for the good, but only being seen as a bad thing. Like my paintings. They capture the essence of every living creature I see. Once, I painted me Dad. I saw him as a snake, somebody who only cared about spirits, not his family. You can imagine what I made him look like.

"Y-you can't be," I stammer, though somewhere inside I know it is true. This man is my real father. I never did fit in with my family at home. I never would, really. Maybe I should just accept my fate here and be gone.

Herobrine came closer, and his eyes stopped glowing. I looked up at him and saw a reflection of myself, only older. Same eyes, same hair, same face. He offered his hand, and I took it, letting Herobrine pull me to my feet. Our eyes lock, and for a second, my mind shuts down. I just want to hug him. My Dad! I've finally found where I fit in! But he won't let me, that's obvious. He is Herobrine, the said devil himself, and he will kill me if I do.

I awake beneath the willow tree, the sun setting in the hills. AutumnLover will be worried about me, so I shove my things carefully in the roots of the willow, then run home as fast as I can.

Swinging open the door to our house, I see Autumn standing there, her eyes fled with tears. She's standing there, an eight-year-old girl, in one of my shirts. Her ankles are covered in fresh scars, and yelling and napping can be heard from the backyard.

I open up my arms, letting my sister run up and hug me. Her arms wrap tightly around me, and she cries into my shirt. I slowly, gently, pick her up in my arms and carry her up the stairs. Then I set her on the bed, wrap her up tightly in every blanket I can find, and curl up myself on the floor with a single towel.

Closing my eyes, I try to picture my Dad, and how he looks every time he is drunk. Evil, angry, like he wants to kill somebody. I picture myself crushing him with all my anger, and suddenly, the yelling outside stops.

I don't want to see why, so I squeeze my eyes shut tight and am pulled back into the realm of Herobrine.

This time, he is sitting at the end of a long dining table. He beckons for me to sit across from him, and the zombie pigs bring in plenty of food, more than I've ever seen in my entire life! Melons, pumpkin pie, chicken, pork, beef, salmon, fish, apples, golden apples, everything I've never been able to try before.

The pigs poor Herobrine a glass of lava, and me some potion. I sniff it curiously, and a sweet smell rises from the cup. Healing Potion!

"Take it to your sister," Herobrine instructs, then laughs at himself. "Or, just heal her yourself. You know, you don't always have to be so worried about her. Not anymore, at least. That 'father' of your. He's dead now."

At those words, chains clatter and a man trudges from the shadows. His red hair glows brightly in the fiery light, and his brown eyes are dark and milky. He glances hatefully at me, and I realize who this strange, chained man is: My Dad. He cats an angry glance at Herobrine, who dismisses him with a swift flick of his hand.

"Now, Aaron27, I understand you must be angry at your father," Herobrine says, taking a large slice of melon in his mouth. "But now, he can't hurt Autumn. Isn't that what you wanted?"

I don't know what to say. I've always hated my father for what he did to Autumn. Before I can stop myself, I feel tears of happiness for my sister's security well up in my eyes, and after a second I open them to find myself in an embrace with Herobrine. At first, the encounter burns my skin, and I almost leap back and scream in pain, but then the pain softens, and I see my arms glowing with flames.

But they don't burn me at all. I start experimenting with my new-found power. Setting myself on fire and turning it off.

"Please, accept your fate," Herobrine murmurs to me.

He hands me something, a shimmering green amulet with a flame encased inside of it. Green fire. Very hot to the touch, but not even close to the heat emitted from white fire.

"Father," I whisper, clutching the amulet in my hand. "Of course. Thank you."

When I awake the next morning, the amulet is still in my hand.

AN; Hope you guys liked this. In case you hadn't noticed, it's about Aaron27. His past.

Oh, by the way, if you guys can answer my questions correctly, I'll let you make a supporting character for some of the other stories I'm making. :)

1.) What is Aaron27's Warrior Cat name in Into the New World Book 2 A Warrior's Heart?

2.) What is the pony who gets captured first in Into the New World Book 1 My Little Minecraft?

3.) Who is my favorite Youtuber? (I know, so off topic from the other questions)

A.) YOGSCAST Lewis and Simon

B.) YOGSCAST Martyn

C.) SoTotallyToby

D.) SkyDoesMinecraft