Disclaimer- I OWN ALL!!! BWAHAHAHAHA!!!
*Ahem*
Summary- St. John Allerdyce always had a fascination with fire. My story on Pyro's life before Magneto.
"Don't fret, mate, be out in five."
-Pyro, Under Lock and Key (at least, i think so)
Author's Note- Be warned, chapter contains drama.
Chapter Eight- Beach
Yes, John was extraordinarily happy. He had graduated second grade (thank God, his parents were starting to get a little worried about him) and today they were going to the beach.
Chris was allowed to bring Mick along, since Mick went everywhere Chris went, being the *greatest* of friends. Chris was wearing black swimming trunks and a white tank top with nice manly sandals. Mick was also wearing black swimming trunks, except he had a white stripe on the sides, and was also wearing manly sandals. He was wearing what once used to be a gray t- shirt, which had the sleeves cut off, and a few grease stains from God- knows-where (presumably cars, since Mick's dad is a mechanic, and Mick likes to work on cars).
It was about a three-hour drive to the beach, and unfortunately for John, he had no one to spend the boring trip with except his family. Ian had been grounded for breaking some expensive vase thing like that- John didn't really think it was important. What was important was that he was spending three long hours on a car ride with his lunatic family, and a sister who liked talking ALL THE TIME. Currently, she was dressed in her little hot pink bathing suit, with little yellow fin-thingamabobs at around where her waist was. (You guys could picture it right?). Her strawberry-blonde hair fell in little curls around her little round face, and her pale green eyes were alight with excitement. Who to think, she, a three year old, was allowed to go on the beach?! (At least to her three-year old mind, because obviously, there are plenty of three-year olds at beaches.)
And so went the three-hour drive. Everybody slept, except Irene and Sue and Steve. Irene just kept talking silly nonsense to herself happily the whole way, and poking John from her car seat. And each time she poked him, he swatted her hand away as if it was a fly.
*~Three Hours Later~*
"We're here," Sue said as they pulled into the parking lot close to the beach. She turned around in her seat and prodded John's knee. He yawned, stretched and looked around drowsily.
Chris groaned, throwing himself against the car door as he opened it, toppling out and falling onto the hot pavement as he did so. Mick followed suit, stepping on Chris as he crawled out, followed closely by John.
"Beach, beach, beach, beach," Irene murmured to herself, examining her fingers as Sue unstrapped her from her car seat.
"My legs! The feelin's back in my legs!" Mick groaned as he rolled over onto his back on the pavement, spreading his arms out as if to absorb the sun.
"Oy'm paralyzed. Oy can' walk anymore..." Chris rasped, still in the same spot he had been.
John had taken himself to running around as fast as he could around the parking lot, dodging moving cars, and jumping on top of the hoods.
"John, git ovah here!" Sue called out to him, coming out from inside of the car and putting a backpack over one shoulder with Irene straddled on her left hip.
John hopped off the hood of an old Volvo, and skipped his way back to their rundown car. He promptly jumped on top of their hood, and sat there humming to himself, looking around the beach.
Seagulls cried as they flew over there heads, and over the endless water. People were sunbathing, playing beach volleyball, swimming, eating, just about anything you can do at a beach.
He looked behind him at his family and decided he needed to run around a bit more; his legs were still numb. Hopping off the hood, he began to run in zigzags, jumping on the hoods of other cars again.
"Mum! This car's bouncy ovah here!" He called out, shaking the car. A spider crawled a few feet away, and he balled his hand up into a fist and smashed the living daylights out of it. Guts and puss and spider legs stuck to his hand, the legs that were still on the car twitching a little bit.
Sue looked up as John called her, gave an exasperated sigh and told him to get over there now or she'd have to punish him. He slid off the hood, began to walk but halted abruptly, a great idea forming in his mind. He laid down on the hot pavement, some pebbles making indents into his skin. Crossing his arms across his chest, he began to roll. It was probably the honking horns and the yelling that enticed Sue's attention, and Chris ran over and yanked him up, dragging him over back to their car, giving an apologetic wave to the other people in the parking lot as he headed back.
"Wot were ya thinkin'?" Chris asked, grabbing a fistful of John's yellow- blonde hair and yanking it side to side in a playful manner.
"Oy thought it'd be fun," John shrugged, skipping ahead as Chris let go of the yellow locks.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Sue set up a large beach towel on the scorching sand while her husband set a cooler and another towel down next to it. Chris set up the large umbrella they had taken with them from their patio table, and then walked off to 'score' some babes with Mick.
"John, wotch your sistah," Sue told John as Steve walked away. "Your father and Oy need ta git somethin' from a store. Don' let 'er out of your sight, ya hear?" John nodded.
As she disappeared from John's sight, he turned around and stared at the excited three-year old.
"Oy'm gonna go closer to the shore where the sand's wetter so Oy can make sand castles. Don' you go anywheah!" he warned her and walked off about ten feet to where the sand was wet. Every now and then he looked up at her, and she was sitting there, piling sand on the towels. Taking one of the plastic pails that he had grabbed, he filled it up with the wet sand and some water and trudged back up there, pouring the sand on the towels.
"Oy can awlways blame you," he told her with a wink; except it wasn't really a wink because he hadn't mastered the art of closing one eye at a time yet. So his face was just scrunched up for a second.
She giggled anyways, taking a little yellow shovel and started digging holes between the two towels.
"Reenie, do ya hear me? Don' move from this spot here, okay?" John said, and Irene looked up at him with sparkling pale green eyes that she had inherited from their father. She just giggled and blew him a kiss, then went back to digging deeper in the sand.
"If you need me, Oy'll be ovah there," he told her, pointing to the shore. She started to hum.
Running back to the shore and leaving tiny imprints of his feet in the sand, John stopped just where the sand started to feel squishy between his toes. It felt so good.
He plopped down onto his bottom and started filling up the pail with sand. After making a few towers, he began digging a trench with his hands. After digging the trench, he got up and waded into the water, scooping some of the water up and then went back to his castle and filled up the trench. He looked up to check on Irene again. She was now piling more sand on to one of the towels.
A good-looking man in his late thirties with blonde hair walked past and smiled at John. John smiled back and turned around back to the ocean and started collecting seashells in his red pail.
It must have been ten minutes later when John heard his mother.
"John!" He looked back at her and smiled, holding the pail up.
"Oy've got sea shells!" he called out happily and then pointed to his sandcastle. "See wot Oy made?"
Sue ran up to him, her black bathing suit making her sallow skin look pale. Her face looked frantic.
"Wot?" John asked, looking puzzled.
"John, where's your sistah?" she asked.
John gave her a puzzled look. Without looking, he pointed to where their things were set up. "She's ovah there, piling sand on the towels," he exclaimed, then added quickly, "Oy didn' help."
Sue gripped both sides of John's face. "No. No, she's not, John. Where is she?"
John looked past her and at their spot. His eyes widened.
"Oy didn't do it! Oy swear Oy was watchin' 'er! Oy told her not ta go anywhere! She must 'ave been lookin' for ya! Oy was watchin' 'er!" he spoke frantically, as if he thought that if he spoke too slowly he would be hit.
Sue straightened up and started looking around and calling Irene. John looked around too, and saw his father staring at him. He also spotted Chris and Mick flicking their cigarettes into the water, jogging to them when they saw that Chris's parents was back. They slowed down when they realized that Sue was calling for Irene and asking people if they had seen her daughter.
John ran up to his father, and gripped his trunks. "Oy swear, Oy was watching her!" he pleaded him to believe him.
Steve just looked down at him, put his hand on top of his head, and then walked away as if in a daze.
John did not realize until he saw his father blur, that he had started to cry.
"John!" he heard Chris drop down to his knees in front of him and grip his shoulders.
"Sinjin, wot happened? Woy are they callin' for Reenie? Wot happened?" he asked, his voice trembling and panicky.
"Oy swear Oy was watchin' her! She wasn' suppose to go anywhere! Oy was watchin' her! Wot happened? Woy isn' she there?" he spoke almost incoherently as more tears leaked out of his eyes. Oh, this was his entire fault.
And then Chris shocked him as he drew John in close, and then lifted him off the ground and began carrying him around as if he was a toddler himself, clutching to him as if John would get lost too. Then, he too, began calling for Irene.
Soon, Mick's voice joined in.
Chris had not put down John the whole time.
"Are you calling for me?" an old lady said with a strange accent.
Chris shook his head, "No, my sistah. She's about three, strawberry blonde hair, green eyes, pink bathing suit. Have ya seen 'er?"
The old lady slowly shook her head, looking sympathetic. "I'll keep a watch out for her, and tell my family to do so also."
Chris nodded his thanks and began searching again.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Ah! Don't throw tomatoes at me! *Dodges food* I was a little worried about this chapter, but I want to see what your reactions will be. I'm going to say though that I planned all the major stuff in this story, and I'm not going to change it. I'm sorry!
Also apologize for the lateness of this chapter. Whoo-ee, it's been nearly a month! I wrote four and a half pages in forty minutes while the first ten paragraphs took me weeks.
I'm not going to do any shout-outs, because its 12:45 am, and I'm tired. Actually, I'm not because I slept all day, but I'm kind of sneaking on here, so I have to get off soon. But thanks to all of those who reviewed anyways! Let's go for 20 reviews for this chapter! Come on, tell me what you think!
Like it? Hate it? Either way, review!
*Ahem*
Summary- St. John Allerdyce always had a fascination with fire. My story on Pyro's life before Magneto.
"Don't fret, mate, be out in five."
-Pyro, Under Lock and Key (at least, i think so)
Author's Note- Be warned, chapter contains drama.
Chapter Eight- Beach
Yes, John was extraordinarily happy. He had graduated second grade (thank God, his parents were starting to get a little worried about him) and today they were going to the beach.
Chris was allowed to bring Mick along, since Mick went everywhere Chris went, being the *greatest* of friends. Chris was wearing black swimming trunks and a white tank top with nice manly sandals. Mick was also wearing black swimming trunks, except he had a white stripe on the sides, and was also wearing manly sandals. He was wearing what once used to be a gray t- shirt, which had the sleeves cut off, and a few grease stains from God- knows-where (presumably cars, since Mick's dad is a mechanic, and Mick likes to work on cars).
It was about a three-hour drive to the beach, and unfortunately for John, he had no one to spend the boring trip with except his family. Ian had been grounded for breaking some expensive vase thing like that- John didn't really think it was important. What was important was that he was spending three long hours on a car ride with his lunatic family, and a sister who liked talking ALL THE TIME. Currently, she was dressed in her little hot pink bathing suit, with little yellow fin-thingamabobs at around where her waist was. (You guys could picture it right?). Her strawberry-blonde hair fell in little curls around her little round face, and her pale green eyes were alight with excitement. Who to think, she, a three year old, was allowed to go on the beach?! (At least to her three-year old mind, because obviously, there are plenty of three-year olds at beaches.)
And so went the three-hour drive. Everybody slept, except Irene and Sue and Steve. Irene just kept talking silly nonsense to herself happily the whole way, and poking John from her car seat. And each time she poked him, he swatted her hand away as if it was a fly.
*~Three Hours Later~*
"We're here," Sue said as they pulled into the parking lot close to the beach. She turned around in her seat and prodded John's knee. He yawned, stretched and looked around drowsily.
Chris groaned, throwing himself against the car door as he opened it, toppling out and falling onto the hot pavement as he did so. Mick followed suit, stepping on Chris as he crawled out, followed closely by John.
"Beach, beach, beach, beach," Irene murmured to herself, examining her fingers as Sue unstrapped her from her car seat.
"My legs! The feelin's back in my legs!" Mick groaned as he rolled over onto his back on the pavement, spreading his arms out as if to absorb the sun.
"Oy'm paralyzed. Oy can' walk anymore..." Chris rasped, still in the same spot he had been.
John had taken himself to running around as fast as he could around the parking lot, dodging moving cars, and jumping on top of the hoods.
"John, git ovah here!" Sue called out to him, coming out from inside of the car and putting a backpack over one shoulder with Irene straddled on her left hip.
John hopped off the hood of an old Volvo, and skipped his way back to their rundown car. He promptly jumped on top of their hood, and sat there humming to himself, looking around the beach.
Seagulls cried as they flew over there heads, and over the endless water. People were sunbathing, playing beach volleyball, swimming, eating, just about anything you can do at a beach.
He looked behind him at his family and decided he needed to run around a bit more; his legs were still numb. Hopping off the hood, he began to run in zigzags, jumping on the hoods of other cars again.
"Mum! This car's bouncy ovah here!" He called out, shaking the car. A spider crawled a few feet away, and he balled his hand up into a fist and smashed the living daylights out of it. Guts and puss and spider legs stuck to his hand, the legs that were still on the car twitching a little bit.
Sue looked up as John called her, gave an exasperated sigh and told him to get over there now or she'd have to punish him. He slid off the hood, began to walk but halted abruptly, a great idea forming in his mind. He laid down on the hot pavement, some pebbles making indents into his skin. Crossing his arms across his chest, he began to roll. It was probably the honking horns and the yelling that enticed Sue's attention, and Chris ran over and yanked him up, dragging him over back to their car, giving an apologetic wave to the other people in the parking lot as he headed back.
"Wot were ya thinkin'?" Chris asked, grabbing a fistful of John's yellow- blonde hair and yanking it side to side in a playful manner.
"Oy thought it'd be fun," John shrugged, skipping ahead as Chris let go of the yellow locks.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Sue set up a large beach towel on the scorching sand while her husband set a cooler and another towel down next to it. Chris set up the large umbrella they had taken with them from their patio table, and then walked off to 'score' some babes with Mick.
"John, wotch your sistah," Sue told John as Steve walked away. "Your father and Oy need ta git somethin' from a store. Don' let 'er out of your sight, ya hear?" John nodded.
As she disappeared from John's sight, he turned around and stared at the excited three-year old.
"Oy'm gonna go closer to the shore where the sand's wetter so Oy can make sand castles. Don' you go anywheah!" he warned her and walked off about ten feet to where the sand was wet. Every now and then he looked up at her, and she was sitting there, piling sand on the towels. Taking one of the plastic pails that he had grabbed, he filled it up with the wet sand and some water and trudged back up there, pouring the sand on the towels.
"Oy can awlways blame you," he told her with a wink; except it wasn't really a wink because he hadn't mastered the art of closing one eye at a time yet. So his face was just scrunched up for a second.
She giggled anyways, taking a little yellow shovel and started digging holes between the two towels.
"Reenie, do ya hear me? Don' move from this spot here, okay?" John said, and Irene looked up at him with sparkling pale green eyes that she had inherited from their father. She just giggled and blew him a kiss, then went back to digging deeper in the sand.
"If you need me, Oy'll be ovah there," he told her, pointing to the shore. She started to hum.
Running back to the shore and leaving tiny imprints of his feet in the sand, John stopped just where the sand started to feel squishy between his toes. It felt so good.
He plopped down onto his bottom and started filling up the pail with sand. After making a few towers, he began digging a trench with his hands. After digging the trench, he got up and waded into the water, scooping some of the water up and then went back to his castle and filled up the trench. He looked up to check on Irene again. She was now piling more sand on to one of the towels.
A good-looking man in his late thirties with blonde hair walked past and smiled at John. John smiled back and turned around back to the ocean and started collecting seashells in his red pail.
It must have been ten minutes later when John heard his mother.
"John!" He looked back at her and smiled, holding the pail up.
"Oy've got sea shells!" he called out happily and then pointed to his sandcastle. "See wot Oy made?"
Sue ran up to him, her black bathing suit making her sallow skin look pale. Her face looked frantic.
"Wot?" John asked, looking puzzled.
"John, where's your sistah?" she asked.
John gave her a puzzled look. Without looking, he pointed to where their things were set up. "She's ovah there, piling sand on the towels," he exclaimed, then added quickly, "Oy didn' help."
Sue gripped both sides of John's face. "No. No, she's not, John. Where is she?"
John looked past her and at their spot. His eyes widened.
"Oy didn't do it! Oy swear Oy was watchin' 'er! Oy told her not ta go anywhere! She must 'ave been lookin' for ya! Oy was watchin' 'er!" he spoke frantically, as if he thought that if he spoke too slowly he would be hit.
Sue straightened up and started looking around and calling Irene. John looked around too, and saw his father staring at him. He also spotted Chris and Mick flicking their cigarettes into the water, jogging to them when they saw that Chris's parents was back. They slowed down when they realized that Sue was calling for Irene and asking people if they had seen her daughter.
John ran up to his father, and gripped his trunks. "Oy swear, Oy was watching her!" he pleaded him to believe him.
Steve just looked down at him, put his hand on top of his head, and then walked away as if in a daze.
John did not realize until he saw his father blur, that he had started to cry.
"John!" he heard Chris drop down to his knees in front of him and grip his shoulders.
"Sinjin, wot happened? Woy are they callin' for Reenie? Wot happened?" he asked, his voice trembling and panicky.
"Oy swear Oy was watchin' her! She wasn' suppose to go anywhere! Oy was watchin' her! Wot happened? Woy isn' she there?" he spoke almost incoherently as more tears leaked out of his eyes. Oh, this was his entire fault.
And then Chris shocked him as he drew John in close, and then lifted him off the ground and began carrying him around as if he was a toddler himself, clutching to him as if John would get lost too. Then, he too, began calling for Irene.
Soon, Mick's voice joined in.
Chris had not put down John the whole time.
"Are you calling for me?" an old lady said with a strange accent.
Chris shook his head, "No, my sistah. She's about three, strawberry blonde hair, green eyes, pink bathing suit. Have ya seen 'er?"
The old lady slowly shook her head, looking sympathetic. "I'll keep a watch out for her, and tell my family to do so also."
Chris nodded his thanks and began searching again.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Ah! Don't throw tomatoes at me! *Dodges food* I was a little worried about this chapter, but I want to see what your reactions will be. I'm going to say though that I planned all the major stuff in this story, and I'm not going to change it. I'm sorry!
Also apologize for the lateness of this chapter. Whoo-ee, it's been nearly a month! I wrote four and a half pages in forty minutes while the first ten paragraphs took me weeks.
I'm not going to do any shout-outs, because its 12:45 am, and I'm tired. Actually, I'm not because I slept all day, but I'm kind of sneaking on here, so I have to get off soon. But thanks to all of those who reviewed anyways! Let's go for 20 reviews for this chapter! Come on, tell me what you think!
Like it? Hate it? Either way, review!