August 1st, 1990

It was a quiet, cold morning in the middle of a forest. Trees silently stood tall, towering above everything else. Water in a lake slightly rippled as a cool breeze blew through the air. The creatures that inhabited the area weren't awake yet, but something began crunching twigs and foliage under its feet as it made its way through the forest.

It was a person. The person's head was covered by a large black hoodie to hide away his or her face. If he or she were trying to be elusive, the person failed miserably; small mammals were being awakened by the person's obnoxious actions. The little animals hid in their small homes in fear of being attacked, but harming them was far from the human's mind. As the person slid out of the edge of the forest to stand in front of the large lake, their hands went up to the hoodie and pulled it down, revealing short yet messy auburn hair. The cold wind nipped the young boy's slightly tanned skin. It did little effect for he lived in this area all his life. Besides, there were times when it snowed here. The air was five times colder at that time. He could handle a little chilled air.

The sun barely peeked out in the horizon, but it was enough to shine light on the tall trees of Lake Tahoe. The lake itself was being reflected off by the sun. It was a magnificent sight for people to see if they managed to wake up early. In fact, the boy wanted to see it again today, despite seeing it thousands of times before. He held his hand up above his eyes to get a better glance at the sight. He smiled widely. The grin he held was as bright as the sun. The boy then picked up a small pebble. After tossing it in the air and catching it again, he flings it into the lake as far as he could. It danced over the water before sinking. Small ripples formed where it was before.

I love this place. As he thought, his smile faltered into a frown. He sighed in deeply and exhaled, releasing his warm breath into the chilly air. This place….

"Henry! Hey Henry!"

Henry turned around to see another boy call out his name. The boy ran towards him as fast as he could. His feet caught under a branch and he nearly went flying into the air. Luckily, he managed to catch himself by grabbing hold of a tree. Henry laughed. The laugh was not intended to be hurtful. Bobby had a knack for being clumsy when he was overexcited. It was funny to see, considering he was very coordinated usually.

"Hey Bobby," Henry replied. Bobby was regaining his composure as he talked, panting heavily. "Got your slingshot?"

Bobby looked at him as if just sprouted wings. "Of course!" He pulled out a slingshot from his pocket along with rocks of all different sizes. "Don't tell me you forgot yours."

He shakes his head. "Nope," Henry pulled out his brand new slingshot he had received from Bobby for his tenth birthday yesterday. It was hand carved by Bobby's father (which made it even better in his mind) and Henry nearly bounced out of his seat to go try it out when he opened the box. He'd been begging for one forever after upon seeing Bobby show off his months ago. "Why would I leave my favorite present?"

"'Cause you're like that," Bobby said before he smirked. Henry stuck out his tongue playfully.

Okay, it was true that he forgot things from time to time, but it was always the little things that weren't important!

All right, maybe not always.

"We're wasting time standing here and talking," he said, stretching the elastic rubber band, "when we could be shooting things."

The smirk didn't leave Bobby's face. If anything, it grew bigger. "Couldn't have say it better myself. C'mon, I got some bottles set up. Let's go!" He began to stroll back into the forest. Henry trailed behind him. Bobby began to mindlessly babble about where he found them, how he hosed the wretched smell off of them, and how he picked a spot to put them up. He did all this in less than five minutes. Henry listened keenly, occasionally giving a small nod to show he was in on his fast talking. "My dad said that we have to pick them up afterwards."

They both stepped over a fallen tree and Henry saw what Bobby did in the distance. He stacked a dozen bottles of different sizes in a straight line twenty feet away along others scattered around the place, some even in trees.

"Here we are," he proclaimed. Bobby tossed the stones he held in his hand on the ground next to a stack of other pebbles. "Wanna show me how you do it?"

"You know I know how to do it!" Henry picked up a medium-sized rock, "You showed me before, remember?"

"Yours is newer. Mine's older."

"I can do it! I'm an awesome shooter!" He boasted. Henry held up the slingshot to eye level and placed the rock in the little pouch. He pulled the elastic part backwards, expecting it to bend easily. But the rubber band was much stronger than he expected and he lost his grip. The rock slid out of the pouch. It did manage to fly through the air—it plopped to the ground a few inches in front of him. His brows furrowed. "Stupid rock."

"Here, let me show you since you forgot," Bobby picked up a pebble and handed it to Henry, "hold it like you did before." Henry put the pebble in the pouch and pulled it back, but not to the point where it stretched a lot. "Now, grip the handle as best as you can and pull it as far as you can–but don't let go." He did as he was told. The slingshot was pulled until he felt like he couldn't pull anymore or it would break.

Henry grits his teeth while he tried to keep the slingshot from firing. "Now what?" He asked through his teeth.

"Aim it with the center part. Then, let go!"

He let go. The rock was sent flying and Henry expected it to hit a bottle, but instead bounced off a tree. It went into the air, which was now becoming sunnier than before. Henry and Bobby looked up to try to see if they could spot it, but it was no where to be found. The boys continued their search for it for about ten more seconds. Henry then saw a small black dot form in the clear, blue sky. It was puny at first. The longer he stared at it, the bigger it became. His eyes widened when he realized it was the rock he shot and it was coming straight at them. He was going to yell out, but Bobby beat him to it.

"Crap!"

"Look out!"

Henry felt a strong urge in himself to push Bobby out the way. He did, and in doing so, tumbled backwards to land flat on his bottom. The rock smashed into the ground at an alarming speed. The boy almost let out a sigh of relief as he realized that he saved him from getting hurt, even if it was a small thing. He felt proud in a way.

"Oww…" groaned out Bobby. He sat up rubbing the back of his head, ruffling his dirty blond hair as he did so. "Why did you do that? It's just an itty bitty rock."

"It was going super fast." Henry tried to defend himself.

"Right, that savior's blood you have in ya." He said as he sat up.

"Hey, it saved you from Derek in first grade."

Bobby's face turned slightly red. "He was big!"

The boys shot more rocks at the bottles, though Bobby did have to help with Henry with his aiming. He was told him that he had the power to shoot, but needed to improve on his aiming. Henry took a while to be able to hit straight, but he managed to strike a bottle on his fourth try. Being himself, he boasted that he is an awesome shooter. His comment bit him in the butt because the fifth shot ended up being shot at a tree, bounce off the tree's trunk, and hit him square in his chest. They laughed it off and continued to shoot.

As he and Bobby shot rocks, Henry's mind began to wander to the time when he and Bobby first met. Derek was your typical bully on the playground: big, mean, and not so smart. He was in third grade, though that didn't stop him from being a jerk to younger children. He and Bobby were in first grade and Derek constantly picked on them whenever he had the chance. This stopped after Henry confronted him, though what happened afterwards was something that has never left his mind.

Six-year-old Henry bounced the rubber ball against the wall over and over again. He liked the peacefulness he was able to have as he played alone during recess. Being in a room full of other kids made him feel uncomfortable; they were rowdy and not to mention that Derek kid wasn't picking on him. He grew frustrated at the thought of the older boy.

Stupid Derek, thought Henry. The pressure he put on the ball was getting considerably harder the longer he thought about him. He's just a snot-faced loser! If I could, I would beat him up in a second! Henry kicked the ball as hard as he could. The ball bounced off the wall and rolled to the other side of the playground. He sighed, hanging his head down. If only I was bigger.

Henry chased after the ball. He kept on following it until it came to a complete stop. Henry picked up the ball and was about to head back to being by himself when he saw a kid named Roberto or something like that being pushed to the ground by Derek. Henry didn't want that to happen to him, so he put the ball under his right arm and turned around to try to get out of sight. He stopped dead in his tracks when he heard him call out to him.

"Lookie, its Polky-Dot!" Derek taunted.

Henry's hand went up to the small, brown mark on his cheek. He hated the name he was given by several classmates. Despite numerous attempts at ignoring them, they grew on his nerves every time he heard them call him names. He wanted to do something about it, but didn't know what to do. Even if he did know, he lacked the courage to do so.

"What's wrong Hermit?"

This time, Henry turned around. The insult hurt his feelings. Truthfully, he did like being by himself, but not all the time. He liked talking to people. They just never seemed to like to talk to him. He tried to hide his hurt feelings, but didn't do a good job at it.

"Aww, Hermit is gonna cry now? Is he gonna cry like a little baby?"

The boy who was on the ground got up. "Derek, just leave him alone. He's smaller than me."

"Shut up Robert!" roared Derek.

Henry stood there soaking up the bit of information like a sponge. That kid said I was smaller than him! How dare he say that? I may be a little smaller than him, but I can take him! Anger filled in the very core of his body. The insults, taunts, and physical abuse he received in the first months since school started seemed to flood his mind and fuel the fire of anger in his body. He rolled his hands into balls of fists like he was going to punch someone.

"Hmm, what's this?" Derek swiped the rubber ball from Henry's grasp. He didn't attempt to try to grab it back. The anger kept him from doing anything, pinning him down to his spot. "Your little ball you play with everyday? Oh right, you don't have anyone to play with. I certainly would not want to play with a kid whose mom and dad aren't even his."

He lost it. An inner strength inside of him went off like a time bomb. Something inside of him was released. The ball Derek held exploded, sending the third grader flying backwards. Henry's eyes enlarged, feeling outright confused for a few seconds. What just happened?

The ball—it exploded!

Derek scrambled back up to his feet. He seemed bewildered, but the confused expression turned into pure irritation like what happened was just a small obstacle to overcome. Derek grabbed Henry by his sweater and looked at him dead into his eyes. "You won't get away with your little magic trick!" He pulled his fist backwards to hit him. It never got to this point the other times he bullied him, but Henry wasn't scared. His actions only fed the anger that returned.

The fist Derek formed was coming straight at him when he stopped abruptly. His hand that formed into a fist was inches from Henry's face. He stared at it and looked up to see why he stopped. The older boy stared down at him too—no, that wasn't the right way to put it. His entire face was focused on his direction. Henry didn't like what was happening. Derek wasn't blinking, or breathing for that matter. It was like looking at a statue, those cold, lifeless statues he seen on television.

Henry struggled to get out of his grasp. Despite acting like he was lifeless, the grip was still strong. The smaller boy put his hands against Derek's chest and used all his strength to push himself off. He managed to do it. In doing so, he stumbled backwards, but managed to stay on his feet. He glanced at Derek to see if he was a statue still, but to his surprise, the kid tumbled frontward, very alive.

"Wu-oh!" He face planted into the hard cement. Using his arms, he pushed himself upwards. Henry winced upon seeing blood dribble down the side of his face.

He dared to look in his eyes. He read pure fear. "You-you freak!" Derek squeaked. "You're a freak!" He got up and ran away crying.

What just happened? This question repeated in his mind over and over again. He never did anything like that before. At least, he didn't recall something like that from his past. One thing he decided, it wasn't normal. You can't just will someone to—

"Thank you," A small voice said. Henry looked up to see Robert standing these. He seemed to be scared to get any closer, like Henry was going to do the same thing to him.

"What?"

"Thank you for making him go away like that. He said he was going to kick my head in until you showed up."

"Then why'd you say I was small?" He asked bitterly.

"I didn't want him to do the same thing to you like me," he said truthfully, "or at least give us enough time to get away. I'm Bobby by the way."

As he finished, the school bell rang, signaling the children it was time to go back to class. "I'll see you later?" He asked hopefully.

"Maybe," he said. Bobby smiled widely, though his smile disappeared when he saw an angry teacher come their way. Henry turned around too. The woman was accompanied by a bawling Derek, who was pulling her dress and pointing in their direction. She looked like she was about to burst into flames. Upon seeing this, he cringed. "Or maybe not…."

Derek claimed that Henry had pushed him without any warning. Henry tried to say that he didn't do anything, but the teacher and principal didn't believe him due to how hard Derek was crying and the blood. Bobby was not anywhere to be seen and there were no other eye witnesses (though Henry thought other kids didn't want to get pounded by Derek if they tattle-taled). He was suspended for the rest of the day.

The next day was something that he hadn't expected. The shy loner was praised as a hero. Other classmates claimed that Derek had stopped from pushing boys to the ground and pulling the hair of girls. He liked the attention he received; for once, he was someone else. He boasted about how he beat him up in one punch to try to keep them in believing he truly did do what they thought he did.

Actions came with consequences. When there was one person who treated him nicely, there was another who avoided him at all costs. Henry supposed they thought he was the new bully. He didn't care what they thought of him just as long they stopped with how they used to treat him.

At lunch when Henry would sit by himself Bobby sat next to him and began to talk about what happened after Henry was sent home. He stayed by his side for weeks like he was glued to him. Henry grew annoyed by his actions, but the kid grew on him. Bobby was to be the only one who would talk when they were together. Henry talked to him more each passing day and they became best friends. Regardless of their close friendship, they never did talk about the incident on what happened.

No one else knows except Henry himself. He didn't even tell his mom. The secret was locked away in his mind for years. It was always a desire in him to find out what caused him to freeze Derek and make the ball explode. After a while, the dream died away, though once in a while it would come back and haunt him.

He grinned as he knocked down three bottles in a row. "Sweet!" he exclaimed.

"That's the last of 'em."

"Went faster than I thought it would be," frowned Henry, "whatever. Wanna set them back up?"

"Actually, I was thinkin' we can start shooting real targets. You know, like squirrels."

"I can't. Mom said if I do, she'll take away TV for a week. Besides, you know I hate hurting animals."

"Okay, we can just go back to my place and eat breakfast. My mom's expecting us. She's making pancakes and sausages and bacon."

"Awesome, my favorite! Let's hurry."

The boys quickly picked up the bottles and put them into a black duffel bag. Bobby offered to drag it back home since it wasn't very heavy. As they walked to Bobby's house, they began to chatter about who can eat the most sausages and bacon when they heard a loud bird cry above their heads. They stopped in their tracks to look at it. It was a crow; a large one at that.

The crow flapped its wings in the air gracefully. Their eyes followed the crow until it landed on a branch. It ruffled its dark feathers. The sun's rays bounded of its body, giving it an ominous outlook. It began to pick at its body for bugs.

Not that stupid crow, Henry thought. It's always chasing people around!

He knew it was the crow that terrorized them because it had several scars on its body. Henry didn't have a personal encounter with it himself, but he knew some people who were attacked and had even seen one before. People tried to shoot it, but they never found it. It always seemed to come out when they least expected it.

Crack.

Henry turned around to see Bobby place the bag full of bottles on the ground. He pulled his slingshot out of his pocket and motioned for Henry to do the same. Henry realized what he was going to do. He began to take it out too.

Mom may have said not to shoot animals, but that thing isn't an animal. It's one of those bird demons from The Birds.

Bobby held out a very large rock to him. Henry took it with no hesitation. He was going to give it to the bird what it deserved, especially since he was never going to see it again. "On the count of three," he whispered to Bobby. The other boy nodded as he pulled the slingshot backwards. "One," Henry put the rock into the pouch and pulled the pouch backwards. "Two," He aimed the slingshot just like Bobby showed him how to. "Three!"

For a split second, he thought perhaps this wasn't such a bright idea. The afterthought wouldn't matter because they released their grasps on the pouches. The rocks went flying into the air. Their aim was perfect because the bird felt a sharp pain on the side of its skull. The forces sent the bird spiraling out of the tree. Ka-kaa! It managed to let out before colliding into the ground.

"Yeah! We got it!" Bobby held up his hand to Henry, who hi-fived him back. As their hands separated, Henry looked across to try to find the bird. His eyes rested on the creature. It would look like it were dead weren't for its twitching claw. Henry started to feel guilty for harming an animal, even if the thing was terrible towards people. Perhaps it defended its territory or babies like the things he read in books.

"Do you think its okay?"

"I hope not. I hate it. Wait," his head twisted towards him for a moment, "don't tell me you are feeling bad for it, are you?"

"No!" He exclaimed, trying to cover up his feelings. "No, not at all. Why would I feel like that? What I meant was let's go poke it with a stick."

"Now you're talking my language." He scanned the ground for a big enough stick. Bobby held out to Henry a decent-sized one. If he were to poke it, he would at least be a foot away. Truthfully, he wanted a bigger stick. Upon seeing him, Bobby asked, "You gonna chicken out?"

"Heck no. I'm brave."

"Or just really dumb. You know what they say, brains beats brawns."

"Do you want me to touch it or not?" Bobby thrusts the stick into Henry's arms. "I'll take that as a yes." Shrugging, he put his slingshot away and grasped the stick with both hands for a better grip. He crept carefully to the bird making sure each step he took would not be too loud. The closer he got, the slower his footsteps became. Fear wasn't much of a factor in his behavior. He just wanted to scare Bobby.

The distance between the stick and the bird was slowly closing in. Henry shut his eyes as he lightly poked the bird, bracing for the moment it was going to attack him.

Yeah, it wasn't a good idea to attack it.

Moments passed. Agitation in his body developed to the point where he forced his eyes to open. The bird still laid on its back. Henry poked it again. Nothing happened. He felt foolish that he was building up all the tension for nothing. He turned to Bobby to see his reaction. If he felt foolish, Bobby would feel even more, like a clown. With eyes squinted closed he looked like he was going to get a good smack from his parents.

Henry set the end of the stick he wasn't holding down and used his free hand to shake Bobby's arm. "Dude, the coast is clear."

Bobby opened his eyes. "Nothing?"

"Nothing." He repeated. Losing interest, Henry tossed the stick to the thick bushes. Their attention was exerted on the object he tossed so much that they didn't even notice the raven's eyes snap open.

"That sucks. Let's go. I'm starving."

"Hold on, I wanna see if we put it into shock or something." Henry walked up closer to the fallen animal and knelt down. He picked up a twig and prodded it again. This time instead of its side, the twig ended up touching its stomach. The touch was more than enough to trigger the bird to toss its body over to land on its feet. It then lunged at very surprised Henry. The crow's wings flapped wildly as it began to claw and peck at his head.

Henry lost his balance and fell down with a hard thud. He wanted to scream out for Bobby to help him, but his voice had seemed to fade away as soon as he tried. All other feelings turned into fear.

The area around his neck cried out in pain every time he felt the claws of the bird dig into his skin. His hands tried to grasp the creature attacking him, but his eyes were closed tightly to avoid the possibility of the bird scratching them out. Each time he reached out he didn't grab it. A warm liquid began to drip down his neck. The fear intensified.

This must have what the other people felt when they were attacked.

He would rarely get scared. In fact, if he had to count all the times he was truly frightened it would fit on one hand. He added this time on the second hand.

Unsuspectingly, he heard a loud smack above his head. Everything the bird was doing to him stopped. Cracking open one eye, he saw that the bird was not above him anymore. He turned his body around, ignoring the throbbing pain his neck felt. The bird was indeed gone, but it was a bittersweet accomplishment. It had turned its attention towards Bobby. His arms covered his face as the bird thrashed itself at his back. The fear that he felt for himself turned to his friend. He tried to find something to help him, but failed. He looked back at the horror in front of him happening. He glanced down to try to pull out his slingshot, but it wasn't in his pocket.

He looked back up, feeling defenseless. He had to help him some way, any way. As he tried to think of a way, the fear of not being to do anything caused something in him burst out. The bird began to inflate slightly and it exploded. Henry blinked his eyes as he felt the force go off. Opening them, he saw black feathers all over the place. Most were twirling down to the ground. He opened his hand to catch one. It landed with grace. Remembering the situation, he tossed it to the side.

Henry saw the bird, or what was left of it. It wasn't dead at all, but all the feathers it had had been stripped off like it were a turkey ready for Thanksgiving. The naked bird flapped the stubby things it now had that were wings violently. He thought it was trying to fly. Henry stifled a giggle as it flapped its stubs some more while running away.

"Man, getting knocked over twice today's a pain." Bobby stood up on his feet. His hair was slightly uneven now since the crow ripped off some of his hair, but he looked okay. "Where'd the crow go? What happened…?" He asked as he realized the ground and himself was covered in black feathers. He picked one off his shoulder and examined it.

"Doesn't matter," Henry said quickly, "I-I pulled it off and it moved around a lot," he continued, trying to make his story believable, "the bird flew away. But how'd you get the bird off of me?" His eyes traveled around and he saw his slingshot lying on the ground. He picked it up while waiting for his response.

Bobby groaned as he rubbed his back. "I found another large stick and I hit it like it was a baseball," he stepped to the side and kicked the stick. "I fell on it when it got me."

Henry chuckled, but stopped as he felt the liquid droplets down his neck again. He slowly brought his hand up to the side of his neck, wiped it, and brought it back. The hand was streaked with blood. The thin line of blood went from the top part of his palm to the tip of his fingers. He began to feel pain again when he touched the sensitive spot.

"You're bleeding!" Bobby exclaimed.

Henry gave him a dirty look. "Of coarse I'm bleeding!" He snapped.

Bobby flinched. "We gotta get you home right now."

"All done," said a woman as she patted down the bandage around Henry's neck. As she stood up, he rubbed the sore spot. It still throbbed, but not as much as before. "Now tell me, why are you both so dirty? And where did you get these scratches?" She picked out several twigs from Henry's hair.

"Mom, I'm telling you, the bird attacked him and me," repeated Bobby, who had a bandage around his forehead. "Why won't you believe me?"

"Because you said that a leprechaun jumped you and broke your arm a few weeks ago. Now Henry, what happened?"

"We're telling you the truth Mrs. Vasquez. It attacked us," Henry said. "It attacked us after we got it first. We shot it with rocks and our slingshots."

Mrs. Vasquez sighed. "Bobby, did I tell you to not shoot at animals?"

He looked down. "Yes."

"Then why did you do it?" She asked.

"We got lost in the moment. I promise to never to it again," said Bobby.

Bobby's mother gave him a look that said 'We'll talk about this later'. Afterwards, she examined the bandage on Henry's neck once more. "You better call your mother and tell her Henry. She'll be upset if you don't."

"I can't," he simply said.

"Why not?"

"Our phone is disconnected," he replied, "has been for three days."

The woman sighed deeply. She rubbed her forehead. "You boys go on and eat in the kitchen. I'll take you home after. And no buts Bobby," She added at the end when she saw that he was going to talk back at her. "Go on now. We have church to attend to in an hour."

Henry and Bobby left the living room in silence. They filled their plates in silence, but began to chat as they sat down. Henry felt bitter as he talked with him. This moment was bound to happen. It was inevitable. All the time they spent together would mean nothing. This would be the last meal they would eat together as well as the last chat. After all, eating together would be impossible if Henry was moving overseas to London.

Henry, we're leaving Lake Tahoe. We'll be leaving to go live in London.

When he first heard the news, he didn't know what to think. The first normal reaction would be to throw a fit, but Henry didn't. He felt an odd happiness at the thought of going back to the place he was born. It was like he was waiting for this moment all his life. But moments later, he became upset. He didn't want to leave the place where he has lived a majority of his life. The lake, the forest, everything here he didn't want to leave behind. Why should he, anyway? He shouldn't have to start his life over again if he didn't want to.

They had an argument that night. Henry ended up locking himself in his room for a whole weekend only to leave to grab something to eat at night and use the bathroom. He indeed was upset, yet the more he thought about it, he wondered what would happen and answer the questions he has always wanted answers to: Why did those things happen when he was angry? Would he find his real family?

The idea of possibly finding his real family excited him. He had known he was adopted for some time and the thought of being able to find out about them and maybe even form some sort of relationship with them made him slightly anxious to go. Perhaps from them he could find out about why he had those weird moments, like with Derek and the bird.

He could only hope at this point.

Henry, instead of sitting at the table and eating with Bobby, sat in a small red car with Bobby's mother driving it. As she drove, she reminisced about the times they were smaller. "I still remember when you both running around here in capes pretending to be Batman and Superman. After that you kids would pretend to battle each other. You both were so cute back then."

"Uh-huh," he said, staring out of the window in front of them, but still listened to her. His stomach was full, but the closer they were getting to his home, he felt sick. Possibly he was dreading to enter the home he was raised in one last time before they departed, or knowing that the last time he would see Bobby and his mother would be today. Either thought didn't fit well in his mind.

"There were also those times when you both would stay up late at night and watch scary movies. Howard and I knew what was going on, but we didn't have the heart to tell you kiddos to go back to bed. The two of you would always sneak around. But I must tell you, you need to practice on being quieter. I'm not condemning your behavior nor promoting it, but if you do plan on being sneaky, do it right," She continued on babbling at this point, much like her son. The more she talked, the view to his house was becoming bigger and bigger. "And don't tell your mother I'm saying these things. It's just between you and me."

"Yes Mrs. Vasquez," said Henry with a smile. He could see a smile tug at her lips.

"You are a very bright child Henry," she began to say, becoming serious at this point, "you may not act like it all the time, but if you focus on your goals, you can do great things. I want you to remember that. Don't settle with less. Go the extra mile."

"I will." He said.

"Good," Mrs. Vasquez said as the car stopped moving. "Be good for your mother now," she turned to him and ruffled his reddish-brown hair.

"Okay," he said as he began to open the door. His leg swung out and was followed by his other leg. "Bye Mrs. Vasquez."

"Good-bye Henry. Don't forget to send us letters!" She managed to call out before he closed the door. Henry nodded to show he heard what she said. He backed up and watched the car turn around. Black smoke trailed after the car. The boy coughed momentarily, but regained his composure to watch the car become smaller the farther it went. Sighing, he turned around to make his way back into the house.

Good-bye Bobby and Mrs. Vasquez, he thought before adding, forever.

He turned around and walked up the small flight of stairs before placing his hand on the handle. The door clicked open and he pushed his way into the small house. He was greeted with an empty room. The usual furniture that would accompany the room was not present. Instead, the couches, shelves, and even the TV were sold. His heart pains at the memories he had of jumping on the bouncy couches and attempts at climbing shelves as if he were Spiderman. The only evidence that such materials were here were the flattened spots the furniture used to be.

"Mom, I'm back!" he called out. Just before he was about to step in, he remembered about yesterday when she yelled at him for walking inside with his dirty shoes. Henry carefully wiped his boots across the outside door mat.

Welcome home.

Yeah right, thought Henry. Out loud he said, "I gotta talk to you!"

Faintly, he heard her yell back, "Take your shoes off before you come in!"

Henry had his foot halfway in. Grumbling, he slid them off and lazily tossed the brown boots covered with mud and leaves out. "Where are you?"

"In the kitchen, honey. I'm just finishing some last minute cleaning from your birthday party."

How could I forget? Henry thought, a grin forming on his face as he remembered the events that took place yesterday. All that silly string we sprayed on each other. That was so much fun!

He made his way through the empty living room, not noticing that the remaining twigs and leaves that clung to his sweatshirt and hair were beginning to plunge downward onto the clean, white carpet. He rubbed his feet across the ground as he headed to the kitchen. Henry poked his head though the opening.

His mother was dumping dust into a trashcan. She clasped her hands together once she dumped the dust pan in the garbage too. "Ugh, finally finished! The house is spotless now," she turned around. Henry's mother was a short, Asian woman. Her dark curly hair, which normally would rest below her shoulders, was currently tied in a bun. When she was ready to go out to dinner, he thought she looked very pretty. But right now, she had an extremely tired look on her face. "All my house cleaning is complete," the tired expression her face held was filled with shock. "Oh my god, Henry!"

Dropping the broom from her free hand, she quickly rushed to Henry's side. "Henry, what the hell happened to you?!" She exclaimed, feeling the bandages around his neck. His breath hitched when her hands roam around the bandages. Slightly, Henry's mother opened up the wrapped injury. "Tell me who did this to you!"

"Me and Bobby. Crow. Attacked it. Hurting neck." He managed to say. The pressure she exerted on his neck lessened. "Thanks," Henry then explained the story on how he and Bobby encountered the bird, shot at it with their slingshots, and were attacked by it afterwards. He left out the important detail in the end to only replace it with saying he whacked it with a stick like Bobby did. "You should have seen it Mom. The bird went flying away like a baseball."

Henry's mother let go of the bandage. He looked up at her to see her reaction. She looked down fiercely at him saying, "Did I not tell you to not harm anything?"

"Yes, but—"

"I deliberately said 'Don't hurt anything with those contraptions', am I right?"

He nodded.

"And yet you go behind my back. I told you that damn bird was out there. Why? Why did you do this? What would you have done is you had an asthma attack? You always forget your inhaler! Besides, just look at you! You're a mess! We're about to leave for the airport in forty-five minutes and you look like an army soldi—" She caught herself in mid-sentence. Henry had visible pain in his eyes, knowing fully what she was going to say. Her eyes softened. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. Just-just clean yourself up and bring your stuff down. I'll be next door to call a taxi. You'll be good, 'kay?"

"Yes Mother," he replies quietly. She pulls him into a hug, in which he bites his tongue as he felt pain shoot through his neck. He gritted his teeth to prevent from crying out.

Moments later, he watched her quickly walk out the back door. He sighed and turned back. His eyes widened when he saw the mess he made. In an instant, he picked up every single leaf and twig that fell off his body. He could've sworn he felt himself break into sweat.

Henry ran up the stairs to make up for the lost time. The door opened when he pushed it with little force. He only saw a couple of medium-sized boxes and a backpack. Slipping on the backpack first, he picked up the three boxes with ease. Strength wasn't something you'd expect out of him. Calling Henry scrawny was a bit of an exaggeration, but it was the word that best described his body structure. Then again, he preferred to be scrawny-looking over chubby like he was in his baby pictures.

Henry felt something slip out of his backpack as he walked to the stairs. Setting the boxes down, he picked up the item that fell. It was his inhaler.

So he did forget to bring it.

Great.

He sighed. Relief washed over him. Suffering from an asthma attack would've been the worst situation possible during the crow attack. The thoughts of his inhaler brought back to him remembering what his mother said just minutes ago. How could she say such thing and bring up—up him?

It was only because she was angry, a voice said as he lifted back up the boxes.

He was timidly walking down the stairs when his own voice replied, She couldn't have been that angry.

Of course she was.

Henry anxiously sat in the chair, twirling his thumbs around. He had never been in a plane before. Or thinking on that matter, he'd never been in the air before. No more than ten feet. Heights were something he didn't really like. Perhaps he was scared of going in the air at a ridiculously high height.

"We will be leaving in one minute," an intercom voice said.

He let out a small whimper and pulled up his hoodie to try to his face. The muscles inside his chest contracted as his heartbeat increased. Quickly pulling out his inhaler from his backpack, Henry it into his mouth and pressed down, releasing the medicine into his lungs. The walls of his lungs loosened. His heartbeat slowed down.

Henry's mother turned to him as soon as she saw his actions. "I told you, no hood when we're under a roof," she calmly pulled it back down, noticing his expression, "honey, are you all right? You look sick." She put her hand on his forehead. He began to squirm upon her contact.

"I'm fine," he said, "really. I am. I swear. Please stop, there are other people."

She took her hand off his forehead, and he put his inhaler into the pocket of his sweater. "If you feel like throwing up, then tell me right away." She pulled out a magazine from her purse, but still kept her eyes on him to try to see if he was lying.

"So, what will happen when we get there?" Henry tried to change the subject. It seemed to work. Her eyes lightened up in sudden realization.

"I forgot to tell you that after I called the taxi company, I contacted your aunt. We're going to be picked up by her as soon as we get off. That won't be for another nine hours. You can take a nap if you need it, but I'm warning you; I'll wake you up after an hour or two because it'll be about midnight when we get there."

"I don't need a nap. I'm ten!" He unzipped his backpack again and pulled out a book. "Watch me," He opened it up and proceeded to read the first page of James and the Giant Peach. "I'll be finished with it by the time we get there!"

An hour and a half later, Henry was asleep, leaning against his mother's shoulder. She half-smiled as he curled up closer to her body. The book he was reading set on his leg. The woman picked up his book and folded the upper corner to keep his spot. Her son managed to read a little more than halfway before he fell asleep. It was quite an amazing feat if he could read 96 pages in an hour.

She tucked the book to the side of his leg. Then, she stroked his soft, dark red hair. They were about to begin a brand new life together with the slate written off clean. Perhaps then they could put the past behind them. She practically threw away everything else for Henry, her son. Her non-biological son. But genes didn't matter just as long as they loved each other. She raised him since he could learn his first words.

Very softly, she placed a kiss on his forehead.

Sweet dreams my little angel.