ONE YEAR LATER

"Okay, here we are..."

"We need a doctor, not a deadbeat..."

"This ones on the house..."

"Fail to meet my expectations and there will be consequences..."

"Now, a toast!"

"Don't make me regret this..."

"James and his cheery charity..."

"You need to learn your place..."

"May your future be bright!"

...

"Don't look straight into the light, honey. You'll hurt your eyes."

This is my first memory.

I'm one year's old.

"It's just something you get used to down here."

My father is talking to me.

I don't know what he's talking about. As far as I'm concerned, the florescent light above us is normal. It's all I've ever known.

"Come on over here, sweetie. Come on! Walk to daddy!"

I'm a fast learner apparently, or so my father liked to brag.

"You can do it! Over here!"

We're in a room, the same one that I will one day call home. It's grey and metallic, designed for functionality, not comfort.

"There you go! My goodness! Just a year old, and already walking like a pro. Your mother would have been so proud."

I'll admit, it's a hazy memory at best. But I do remember my father. He's sad. He misses my mother and doesn't like this place, though it will take me a few years to understand why.

"Listen, kiddo, I know you don't like it when Daddy leaves you alone-"

I don't. I really don't.

"-but I need you to take care of yourself for a minute."

I'm shut inside one of those stupid children's playpens. I hate these things.

"You just stay here while Daddy runs to his office. You'll be okay, honey. I'll be back in a bit."

He always said that, 'I'll be back in a bit', and I always believed him, because why would he lie? And where could he go? We're trapped in a Vault. There was no where he could run to. Just like the Overseer always says, 'It was here you were born. It is here you will die'. I always believed that. Why would I question everything I've ever known?

When did all that become a lie? When did you begin to lie to me?

I'm not an idiot.

I'm smart.

Maybe not the smartest person in Vault 101, definitely not as smart as my father (who I've always considered the smartest person in the world. What a fool I was...), but I am smart. Smart enough to know how to push up and over on the bolt to make it move and push on the pens door to swing it open.

And so I escape, escape this child prison made of metal and simple locks that was meant to contain me. Because I can. Because nothing can contain me (I would make sure of that).

But now I am bored, because I left my bright red bouncy ball in the pen and I don't think to go back in and get it (I do swear that I'm smart).

So I search out my favorite book, because I can read (albeit, not well), unlike most 1 year olds I know. Told you I was a fast learner. And smart, don't forget smart.

'You're SPECIAL!'.

What a nice tittle that is. You're special. You are special.

You're. Special. Isn't that nice?

Not 'We're Special'. Not 'We're All Special'. Not 'Everyone is Special you dolt, not just you. Get over yourself'.

No. Just, 'You Are Special'.

First page. 'S is for Strength, and that means I am strong! I can carry more toys and swing stuff all day long'.

I'm not that strong. Believe me, the only reason I've survived this long is because I've had others to rely on. I got bullied constantly by my playmates for years, until my father began to train me that was. Then I became strong. But that was only physically and it wasn't by much. I was still fairly weak by 'others' standards. It wasn't until much later that I found out the true meaning of strength.

The next page. 'P is for Perception, a long funny word! It means what I tasted, smelled, saw and heard!'.

It was a pretty funny word back then, I'll admit. Per-cep-tion. What did I say, funny right?

Not so funny anymore. Not after what I've seen, what I've been through...

And the next. 'E is for Endurance, and that's how long I can play! I'm always really healthy, and have energy all day!'.

Not so great at this. Though, it's a wonder what being chased by Raiders will do to one's ability to keep running, or else die. I've always been pretty healthy though, so for that I was thankful, meant a whole lot less to deal with when I'm out there, facing death at every corner.

'C is for Charisma-'

Something I never had in the Vault, and something I only came to understand outside of it.

'-it's why people think I'm great! I make my friends all laugh and smile, and never want to hate!'

I had very few friends in the Vault, and Amata would be the only one I ever really considered a true friend. The rest were mainly just older people who were friends of my fathers and so were nice to me.

'I is for Intelligence, it means I'm really smart! I use my brain for a lot of stuff, like science, math and art!'

Now I'm not book smart, I'm street smart, which is strange seeing as I've lived my entire life in a small, enclosed space and had no knowledge of the outside world except for stories or what my father had told me. But I was good at planning. Planning escapes and traps, ways to trick my enemy or else get what I wanted without resorting to violence...

'A is for Agility, that's how I get around! I move real fast, and easy, and I never make a sound!'.

Now this, this I pride myself on. I trained everyday to achieve the level of flexibility I possess today (which is a lot. I can do splits and everything), and am as silent as a shadow. It comes in very handy when I have to slip past those pesky Super Mutants.

I was also the fastest in the Vault, another fact I prided myself on. Nobody could keep up to me, and I loved to run. Loved the feeling of the air, no longer so stale and flat, moving through my hair. Loved the feeling of freedom as I tore down those halls, the thrill of beating my opponents, the power of being able to force myself faster and faster and knowing it's me in control. No one else. Just me, and for once in my life, I am all alone (how naive I was to think that was all I wanted). It was just me, myself, and I. Free.

It was just to bad the hallways always ended.

The last one I always hated.

'L is for Luck, and its simple, you see! It means that good things always happen to me!'

Nothing is ever simple, lets leave it at that.

I don't know what I found so great about this book. It was just a simple, childish book, filled with pretty colors and simple words. Yet it held my attention like flies to honey. Then again, I was a child, and children think the strangest things. Children still believe that the world is a wonderful place, that nothing will harm them, that there is nothing beyond that huge door labeled 101, and most importantly, that their parents love them and would never leave them.

Such a stupid book really... But it wasn't like there was a whole lot of choice anyway. Reading material was limited, took up too much valuable room. When you live in a Vault, you tend to be forced to share everything and so, very few things actually belong to only you. The toys in the toy box (a stuffed teddy bear, a rattle, a plastic toy race car, and a single block with the letter 'A' on two sides and pictures of apples on the others) don't belong to me. There either hand-me-downs or only with me for a short amount of time before they are passed on to the next kid to use and enjoy. Even my cradle belonged to someone else. That's the way of the Vaulters, share everything except people, basically.

In fact, the only decent thing to read in here was in the one and only picture frames we possessed.

'I am Alpha and Omega,

the beginning and the end.

I will give unto him

that is athirst of

the fountain

of the water of life

freely.

Revelation 21:6'

It was pretty, but basically meaningless to me at this stage in my life.

The door opened when I teetered closer on unstable legs. My father stood in the doorway. Surprise flickered across his face when he spotted me before transforming into a proud, happy smile (was that a lie?).

"Ha ha ha! You're quite the little explorer, aren't you?"

Were you proud of me then father?

"Serves me right for trying to pen you in!"

Yes, serves you right that I would turn on you.

"Come on over here. I want to show you something."

And so I follow him, because he is my father and I trust him. I don't need to think about it. I love him.

"See that? It was your mother's favorite passage. It's from the Bible, Revelation 21:6."

The only connection I have (we both have) to the dead woman who gave birth to me, is this.

"'I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end. I will give unto him that is athirst of the fountain of the water of life freely.' She always loved that... All right. Come on. Let's go see if your little friend Amata wants to play..."

Once again I follow him, follow him as he leads me down the hall, follow him as he leads me through my life, follow him as he leads me to my destiny.

But no. No, I cannot blame my father. Not for everything at least. And try as I might, I can never truly bring myself to hate him, even if he did leave me for dead in that hell hole, even if his actions did force me to leave my only home, even if it forced me to travel greater lengths then I ever thought possible, across great burning deserts, over large, treacherous mountains and huge expansions of Wastelands with danger hunting my every move and death around every corner.

All in search of him.