I looked up at the sun and my two sisters kneeling beside me. They had been through so much. The had lost their father, and their mother and now me. I wouldn't change anything if I could. Loss and the pain that followed gives way to new love, and new memories. I touched their cheeks one last time. The blood pooling in my lungs made it impossible to speak now. I could tell they knew what I was saying. I also knew they would be alright because I had brought the real hero back to the world. Kal-El would make sure they were safe. But I'm starting at the end, we should go back to the beginning.
My story isn't a happy one, I'm not some golden age superhero. My life was full of love, loss and betrayal. I'm going to apologize ahead of time. I have a photographic memory so sometimes I get a bit lost in them. I have made many mistakes, I have hurt people I loved, and I have so, so, many regrets. I'm not sure where to start, so I'll start with the fact my name is not Amber Morris. Or Novastorm. Its Kristen Laurence.
I changed my name when I was thirteen. It was not by choice; It was by necessity. I wanted to leave my old life behind. Not that it was a terrible life. I was surrounded by love. Parents, family, friends. Eric, my next-door neighbor. If there was a person, I could say I loved outside my family it was him. I never saw his face; You see I was legally blind. But I remember his voice. I remember all their voices. And their screams. I wish I could forget as easily as I was able to change my name and become the new me, but that will never happen because my photographic memory will not let me forget. I remember the screams, the searing flames burning up my skin, my guide dog frantically trying to save me, then his whimpers and last scream before the darkness. One little rock. One little rock changed my life and destroyed so many people I love. One tiny, insignificant, little rock. I can still feel it in my hand the smooth edges told me it was a cut crystal of some kind. I could feel it humming and vibrating. Then the fire. I'm getting ahead of myself, lets go back to the real beginning.
My parents, bless them, had me when they were in their late forties. I was a blessing to them, the doctors told them I would be disabled due to some genetic error, but my parents were catholic, devout and would never considering terminating a pregnancy. Sometimes I wish they had, so that they could have adopted a normal girl. One that was not a burden, one whose genetic anomalies wouldn't drag them down, and eventually kill them. At first they were told I would not survive to term, then I was born, then they were told I would not survive past my first year, and then they said, three years, then five years, then ten years, yet I survived, somehow, dragging my parents down with me, expenses, lost time at work, just lost freedom.
My parents weren't wealthy, my father worked in a factory, my mother was a teacher. My mother quit her job to care for me. I couldn't tell you what they looked like, my eyes could never make out more than blurry colors. They were good people. But they were poor people because they spent so much money just keeping me alive, and mobile. I never felt like a burden, I never realized I was, I was a child, all that mattered was I had a mother and father who loved me. Now that I can see the world for what it is I know the truth.
I did not have many friends. I was wheelchair bound. My hands were twisted but usable. My support dog, Muffy, she was a pillar in my life, always present, always keeping me safe. And my friend Eric, who lived next door, oh how I miss his voice. He was my age, now that I can see, I looked up pictures of him. He looked just as kind as he sounded. I am not sure why he hung out with me so much, I couldn't play video games, or chase. I couldn't see the movies we'd sit through together, but we would sit through them. We would tell stories, wonderful, brilliant stories. He'd even read to me. Eric, unlike most kids our age, he loved books.
I had one hobby, it wasn't much of one to be honest. I loved to collect stones, rocks and crystals of various shapes sizes and textures. I loved the feel of them in my hands. They brought me a lot of joy. I wish I had never started. The reason I point this out isn't me trying to show off, but because it is what started the chain of events that led to the existence of Novastorm and Amber Morris.
Through the years I was poked and prodded by doctors, they didn't really have a diagnosis for what was wrong with me specifically. My DNA was deeply flawed. My parents as poor as they were used what little money they could get together to try and get some form of treatment for me to extend my life. These various treatments were attempts at gene therapy. I expected no miracles, and received none, only a curse.
My mother took me to the doctors for my last treatment on my thirteenth birthday. She was so upset that she was ruining my big day. I wasn't the kind of twelve, or thirteen-year-old kid to complain. Doctors visits were part of my life. Whether it was a check-up, or an emergency room visit because my lungs were filling up with fluid. I wish I knew where she took me that day, but they did some tests, and injected me with a concoction that would apparently fix some imbalance I had with some of my cells that stopped the uptake of some protein. I can't recall the exact words, even with my photographic memory because to be honest, I wasn't listening. I was thinking of the rest of my day, my birthday party and cake. And a present that my uncle promised me was very special.
When we arrived at home I felt exhausted and my mother put me in my bed. I woke when she shook me to tell me people were starting to arrive for my party. I wish I had never woken up from that dark, dreamless sleep. My mother helped me into my wheel chair and we went out into the apartment proper. I could smell and hear several of my extended family. I had three uncles, two aunts, my grand parents were dead. Several of my cousins were there as well. My family didn't do anything small when it came to parties. This was a big one, the girl who shouldn't have been born is now a teenager. I loved my family a great deal.
My Uncle Keith, who was permanently single for some reason loved to spoil us kids. I guess because he didn't have any kids of his own. He always got the best presents for us, the rarest rocks in my case. Eric gave me a memory stick with him reading my favorite poem. I had several new rocks and crystals for my collection and then it was Uncle Keith's turn. He had gone with the smooth gift wrap. I pulled it apart and then he opened the box for me. He said it was a very special stone, from a meteor, most of the meteor's crystal had been green, but this was one was clear. Very rare. It was from a town called Smallville.
I didn't hesitate I felt around the box for it, I was very excited. I couldn't wait to touch this rock from outer space. I should have left it in the box. But I didn't. I lifted it out. It was very dense. And felt like someone had cut it, it was smooth, had faces. I wasn't expecting that, usually the rocks and crystals I was given were natural and raw. I felt the facets. It was unlike anything I had touched before, at once it was cold, and hot. At first I was amazed, then I got scared, I could feel it sticking to my skin in places. And while I could only make out blurs it flashed so brightly it blinded me. Then it started to burn. I screamed, tried to throw it away, I couldn't. My uncle Keith started apologizing and trying to pull it out of my hand I heard him say ouch. I could hear his skin sizzling. Then it flashed again, and that is when the screams came.
I couldn't tell you what happened next. I can only tell you I didn't expect to wake up.