Chapter One: Lies
It was a normal day in Springfield. The sun was shinning, the birds were singing, and the weather felt perfect. Everything was perfect. Marge was folding the laundry. It was always the same with the brunette when she fold the clothes. Lisa's red dress with short jeans, Bart's red t shirt with white stripes, Maggie's blue t shirt with a red heart on it with a purplish skirt, Homer black leather jacket with dark blue jeans,and her black jeans with a plain blue shirt with ocean blue lines on it.
Lisa was on the floor reading a book with arms on the floor, laying on top of eachother. Her baby blue eyes scanned the book as fast as she could muster, understanding everything and reading every single word in the process. She was an intelligent, musical, cute little girl. The intelligence she has came from both her parents, but more from Marge. Her musical abilities came from her father only. Bart... maybe they share the same ability and complex of music, but never the love like Homer. Now of course Homer has great ability in music, but hardly uses his ability at times. Her relationship with Homer is more emphasized than other relationships they each have with others.
Bart was on the couch with arms behind his head with his feet on the table. His eyes were glued on the program that was on the flat screen TV. Blue eyes never left the screen. His focus never left. Now Bart has a mischievous yet sweet soul. The blonde would get in trouble cause he thrive for attention. His mischievous yet sensitive personality came from his father Homer who is very reckless and rebellious.
Maggie was just doing nothing.
"We interrupt this program with some breaking news. Here's Kent Brockmen with the story"
This made Lisa look up from her book, Maggie look at the screen, and Marge to stop folding the clothes to turn up the volume.
"Kent Brockmen here. Another death was seen in the back of an convenient store. The death was a loving father with a wife and two kids. We don't have no clue of who is behind all this, but we have some footage from someone's phone "
The footage wasn't taken impressively. It was moving to different directions of the scene. Suddenly, the footage shoes that man getting murdered, but then the shot just went to a teen boy who was filming it.. "Woah did you see that? Bra what is that?! Woah! Bra that's nasty" he said, still holding the phone.
"We have no clue who is behind all of these killings, but the person did leave something behind"
A future weapon was sat on the desk. Million of complecated switches and buttons and triggers. What was it? "No clue of what it is, but it's a step forward of finding the culprit. And now for the weather-
Marge turned the television off. "I can't believe it! Another person with a life gone! Who is this guy!?" Bart exclaimed. Marge paced back and forth with her arms behind her back. "Oh I hope your father is alright out there. I mean... he's taking this new Springfield the hardest and I don't know why" Marge said. "Maybe something effected him when he was younger" Lisa said. Bart shrugged as he layed softly on his back. "Maybe so" Bart says. "Oh I really hope your father is alright out there. He hasn't been home for hours" Marge said with her fists clenched.
Homer walked softly on the ground. His hands were in his pockets, eyes scanned on the entire city that he lived in. He stared at this city like a hawk. His chocolate brown eyes never missed a thing.
His eyes saw the door to his house. He knew what would happen. The occasional," dad are you okay?!" thing from the kids and a hug and then a worried yell, "Homer, are you alright" from Marge. Then they would try to hide the news story the recently will find from him, but Homer would find out anyways. Homer didn't like this pattern. Homer is a father and husband who should be the one protecting his family. If he couldn't protect himself when he was little, he has to protect his family. He does, but his family doesn't like Homer's mortal exhaustion and his anger. His mixed emotions just get... mixed. ' They just don't understand ' Homer thought.
As Homer turned the knob of the door, Homer quietly walked in the house. He saw his family, not focusing on the door. He walked further in the house quietly and quickly.
Brown eyes went on him, though Homer didn't notice.
"DAD!" Lisa yelled happily as he hugged him. The loud scream let the blonde see that Homer was here.
"DAD!" Bart yelled but not with much emotion as Lisa portrayed.
"Are you okay?"
Homer simply rolled his dark brown eyes.
"I'm fine kids"
Marge ran into the living room with happiness.
"HOMER!" She yelled as she hugged him tightly. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine" he said through gritted teeth. However, Marge didn't notice.
"You alright Homer?"
"Yes! Isn't it obvious Marge!? No scratches, no brueses, no bullet holes alright?! I'm fine! "STOP ASKING ME THE SAME THINGS!"
She flinched at Homer's rage. Homer saw Marge's expression: scared, upset, depressed. He sighed softly as he touched his brown hair. "S- sorry. I didn't mean..." he sighed again, kicking the floor while he walked. He felt one feeling: guilt.
As Homer left the living room, Marge sighed and placed her back on the wall.
"You okay mom?" Lisa asked.
I'm fine honey"
"Is dad going to be okay?'" Bart asked emotionally.
"I'm sure of it Bart"
"Then why did he yell at you?" he asked emotionless.
Marge's hazel eyes dotted back and forth. Bart's eyes stared deadly at Marge, waiting for an answer. He knew he wasn't going to get an answer, so the blonde left his mother. She sighed and sat on the couch.
Homer layed on his bed, exhausted. He was angry at himself. He was angry at what he did.
The brunette wanted to protect his family. However, they always worry about him.. Why? Cause he is part of their family? He sighed. He is the one that needs to protect his family, not the other way around.
His eyes shut automatically, wanting this for a long time. Sleep.
Domination. Destruction. Fire.
That's all he saw. He failed.
He failed to protect his family.
Tears were behind his eyes.
He was took by force. A big grip on his arm, squeezing extra tight.
"I told you!"
He was terrified. Homer was hardly terrified.
He tried getting his arm out of the grasp ,but the grasp was tight. Tighter. His eyes were shut.
'RUN!' he will hear.
No!
He couldn't. He already failed once, he couldn't fail again.
A scratch was sent on his chest.
Fists clenched as he tried not to cry because of the attack.
'RUN!' He heard again.
'No!'
Homer felt the ultimate strength to move away from the shadow. However, the shadow twisted Homer's arm , causing a scream to escape from his mouth.
He didn't try to scream. He didn't want any one to worry.
'RUNNNN!"
Rage.
"I said.. NO!"
Homer's eyes snapped open, arms resting his arms on his chest. He didn't bare to scream because he didn't want to wake any one up. He felt the urge to scream or yell or hyperventilate.
It wasn't normal for him to feel this anxiety as much . He hated this feeling. He wouldn't be triked about the world like he was when he was little. He thought of one word of his younger self.
Naieve.
