Note from the Author: This story, and possibly series (if at least one person enjoy's it) revolves around my own character, and is based in the Marvel Universe, however do not be suprised to find some changes. Mainly I'm mixing the current Marvel universe with that of the Ultimate X-Men and X-men: Evelution, universe with some small changes (You'll see when, and if I get there.) Although I doubt that I will eventually make my character join the X-Men, he is a mutant and will eventually meet and team up with them. This story is written in the Third Person view as well as Narrative. So. Read. Enjoy. And whatever else I'm forgetting.
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words = Dreams
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*words* = Spanish
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A memorie is nothing more than a experience, usually falseified and corrupted by a person's own mind. Sometimes we "forget" what hurts or doesn't benefit us, while fixing events (such as small ordeals) into the proverbial "Fish stories." However, some of us aren't lucky enough to have the luxury of "forgeting," or maybe...we just don't want to.
It's your typical small city, not quaint enough to be considered a "suburb," but still living in the shadow of one of the worlds most infamous cities, Los Angeles. Whittier, CA. A small city that exemplifies what the whole Los Angeles County does, just in a 55 mile radius. The city has it's good parts and it's bad. Surrounding the city are the hill's. Home to the rich and view of the poor. Then, surrounding the hills, there are the "white picket fences," true suburbia. After that, you hit "Uptown" Whittier, stores that cater to rich and those not. However, just below the small shopping district, that is where you reach the problem areas. Areas where crooks, gangs, and criminals of all sorts thrive.
Not everyone in the area falls into that category however. Most are just people who work hard for a living, lambs made to live among wolves. Although many have been hardened by these streets and their way of living, a few have maintained their morals to the full extent. Few...one family.
"*Mama*, I'm hungry!"
The little boy stomped and pouted. At school he got along very well with the other boys. A good child at the soul, but a mischivous trouble maker at heart. He was raised properly by his mother, raised to be modest and respectful to all others, however his eyes showed the sparkle of mischief, and a joy of pushing the limits. However, when he was with his mother, the boy was nothing more than a loving child.
"*Ay mijo!* Ok. Come on, let's go to the store."
The mother spoke to her son. They walked the many blocks to the local grocery store. Even in their own neighborhood, they were stared at.
The mother was beautiful. Not in the traditional glamourous beauty, but in a different, rarer beauty. A solid shade of brown, she was short, standing only 5 feet 1 inch tall. She had raven black, silk hair that fell down to her lower back, with only the slightest traces of wisdom. She was thin, but not to the bone, and she had the same sparkle of mischief in her eye as her son.
Her son however was different. He was young at the time, with only 5 years of experience in life. However he already stood at a head and a half over his mothers waist. He had the same raven, black silk hair, only that he had it cut into a flat top (It's the 80's, remember?). His nose was slightly smaller than most, but not to much, and he was well fed to say the least, with big cheeks and a belly, that although was small, was obviously still a belly.
However the difference between the two was the same difference that people always look at. Unlike his mothers solid shade of brown, the boy was of a lighter shade, a much lighter shade when compared to his mother's Native looks. And while she maintained that Native look, the only inhertance of that to the boy was the raven black hair. Even his eyes were different. A rare color, to say the least, a solid grey with just the slightest, yet noticeable, amount of blue. The people of the neighborhood would swear to their distant family, that they knew of a boy who you would litterally, not to mention WILLINGLY, show your soul to, just by stearing at his magnetic eyes.
That is why the two were always being stared at, no matter wear they went. However it was apparent that they were Mother and Son, just by the way the boy clung to his mother. And although everyone stared, their almost always was smile to follow.
"Okay, we're here. Now stick close, because we will be leaving soon. I only came to buy *tortilla's* and beans."
"And TWINKIES!?"
The boy said excitedly.
"*No.*"
"Pleaaaase?"
"*Ay! O.k.* but just ONE."
The mother knew it was the wise thing to do. If she keped to her word and not given in, she new that the little *mocosso* would find SOME way to sneak in a box of the treats just as she was about to pay. Besides, there was nothing she wouldn't do to make her son happy.
After buying the tortilla's and beans...and the twinkie..., They exited the grocery store.
"*Oh! Mamy!* Look! NIGHT RIDER!"
The boy jumped up and down while pointing at the small, coin operated car that was obviousl K.I.T. of the Night Rider show.
"*No mijo* we don't have time."
"Pleaaase!?"
"Not this time."
The mother continued walking, but the boy grabbe the bottom of her long dressed and was on his knees, begging.
"Pleeeaaase?"
The mother frowned, giving in.
"*O.k.* but just ONE ride."
'Just ONE' was her answer to all her son's desires, she knew that she always gave in, but she also knew that 'Just ONE' was more than enough to satisfy her son. The boy got in the small black Corvet and sat down, holding the ceramic and unmovable stearing will and pretending as it moved up and down.
They were a happy, good, and innocent family. So it was almost pre-ordined that tragedy would eventually befall them. It's sad, but even the innocent are sometimes targeted...even the innocent, change.
"*Rapido mijo (Fast son)* We've got to..."
The mothers eyes suddenly went wide with fear, as if she had seen something. Behind her a black car with tinted windows drove slowly by as two bandana wearing young men passed by. However how the mother knew what was going to happen was unknown, as she had her back turned to them all. Instantly she through herself over her son, just gun shots were fired from the car.
Suddenly everything went into slow motion for the child. He struggled to look over his mothers shoulder, and managed to see both bandana wearing men shot. However he looked in horror as they didn't stop. No. They almost did, but upon seeing the 'Native' and the young boy, they fired again. His mother was shot, and he FELT it. His eyes got even wider as he gagged. Then again. And again. And again...it didn't stop for what felt like an eternety to the boy. His mother was dieing he KNEW it...but at the same time he DIDN'T know it. Suddenly everything came back to rapid speed as they continued to shoot at him and his mother.
"*MAMA NOOOO!!!!!*"
The boy yelled, and suddenly both the mother and her son were engulfed in a dark blue sphere of energy. This scared the men in the car even more, causing them to repeatedly shoot at the sphere, only to see nothing happen. The boy however, wasn't as lucky. Although the energy did nothing to him, his mother was in utter agony. He felt her wounds heal, how he didn't know, but just then, he felt her suddenly be engulfed in pain as the energy litterally began to burn her alive, just with no flames. Her screams of torment echoed in boy's skull, yet she still managed to cover her son, trying to protect him from whatever caused this 'evil' sphere, while all the while cursing the demon that caused this.
...That demon...is me.
"NO!"
I wake up. And notice that I'm back in the present, sleeping in the cold roof that is my home for the day.
It was just a dream...no it was worse, it was a unforgotten, untouched, pure...experience.