A Freak
Blowhole looked at himself in the bathroom mirror.
His new metal eye shined under the lights.
He frowned, tears welling up in his eye. His teeth clenched in anger.
All the names of the humans called him after his incident echoed in his mind.
Hey Cyclops! Freak! Robot! Flippy the one eyed loser!
Blowhole raised his flipper and punched the mirror, disgusted at his reflection.
His flipper was bleeding with all the sharp mirror pieces in his flesh. He stared at his injured flipper, not caring.
Blood dripped on the floor.
"Victor are you…" Crystal began as she came into the bathroom, stopping when she saw the broken mirror; Blowhole's injured bleeding flipper, his crying face, and broken blood covered glass on the floor.
"Victor, what happened?" she asked going up to him.
He turned away, refusing to look at her.
Crystal went up to him, gently taking a hold of his bleeding flipper.
"Honey, you can tell me anything… I'm right here for you." She told him. "Now what's wrong?"
He spun around to look at her.
"What's wrong Mother? What's wrong? Everything! Look at me! I'm a freak! I have a metal eye! Everyone hates me now because I look like a cyborg!" He exclaimed angrily.
Crystal grabbed the first aid kit and started taking out the glass in his flipper.
"You're not a freak baby. You're just special." She replied, dabbing peroxide on his flipper.
He clenched his teeth in pain.
"Yes I am Mother. Look at me! What animal has a metal eye? A deformity! No one will ever love me!"
Crystal wrapped bandages around his flipper.
"You're not unloved honey. I'm right here and I'll always love you no matter what."
Blowhole looked at his wrapped up flipper. He shook his head, tears still falling down his eye.
He fell to the ground, his Segway smacking into the floor. He cried into his flippers.
Crystal pulled him into a hug, rubbing his back in comfort.
"There, there baby. It's okay. You're not a freak. They're just jealous because they don't have something that cool to show off."
Blowhole pulled back, wiping his tears away.
"You mean it Mother?"
She nodded.
"I do. I'll always love you honey. You're not a freak. You're beautiful sweet-pea and I'll always be here when you need me."
First Word
Crystal sat in front of her son.
He was a year old and hadn't said his first word yet.
Bambi was playing on the TV.
"Can you say Ma-Ma?" she asked him, recording him with a video camera.
He looked at her and giggled, clapping his flippers.
"What about Da-Da?" she suggested.
He cooed at her.
"Can you say Fish?" she replied.
He rolled on to back, looking at her with a wide innocent child-like grin.
She sighed. She sat the camera on the coffee table.
She walked into the kitchen. She had tried to get him to say his first word for over an hour with no success.
She went over to the counter, grabbing the coffee pot and pouring herself a cup of coffee.
"Bird!"
She stopped, eyes wide.
"Did he…" she trailed off.
"Bird!"
She ran out of the kitchen to look at her son.
He clapped at the show.
She grabbed the video camera, going over to her son.
He looked at the camera and pointed at the TV.
"Bird!" he replied.
"My baby said his first word!" She exclaimed. She sat the camera down and picked him up.
"Bird! Bird, bird, bird, bird, bird!" he cooed.
"That's right honey. Bird." She smiled, tears coming. She hugged him.
"Bird!"
First Invention
Blowhole was sitting in his room. He had a toolbox sitting on his desk. He had an old toaster and an old radio in front of him.
He was eight.
He started taking the radio apart, pulling out wires and sockets.
He looked through the science and mechanical book. He smiled as he pulled out a screwdriver.
"Mommy is going to be so proud of me." He smiled, taking the wires out and hooking them together.
He started to take the toaster apart.
An hour later Crystal walked in, wondering what happened to the toaster and radio.
"Victor have you seen the Toa-" she stopped when Blowhole held up what looked like a toaster and a radio put together.
"Look what I made Mommy," he beamed.
She slowly walked up to him, a confused look on her face.
"What is it?" she asked.
"It's a musical toaster mommy! We can listen to music while we toast something. Isn't that cool?" he asked.
Crystal frowned, flippers crossed with her foot tapping.
Blowhole lowered his gizmo, with a worried expression.
"Is something wrong Mommy?" he asked.
"Victor, why didn't you ask me permission to use the toaster?"
Blowhole twirled his flippers together.
"You were busy and I wanted to get this put together. I'm sorry Mommy; I didn't mean to make you mad."
Tears started to fall from his eyes.
Crystal pulled him into a hug.
"Honey, I'm not mad, I'm just upset that you didn't ask me for permission. What if we needed the toaster for something important? Or if it malfunctioned and got you hurt? Next time you want to use something to invent on, ask me for permission okay?" she replied, pulling him back to look at her.
He sniffed, nodding, wiping the tears away.
She smiled gently at him.
"Now how about you show me what this thing can do."
Blowhole smiled and grabbed his invention, eager to show what he made.
Caught
Blowhole was in his room, the radio cranked up, as he was dancing and singing, using a screwdriver as a microphone.
Red One heard the music and wanted to see where it was coming from.
He walked into his boss's room, knocking, but the music covered him up.
He was probably watching the most humiliating and hilarious thing he ever saw Blowhole do.
""I wanna know oh-oh, if you'll be my girl!" Blowhole sung, doing the must ridicules dance ever. "Hhheeyyy, hey baby! I wanna-" he stopped abruptly, noticing Red One's presence. A squeak of embarrassment escaped from the evil dolphin's mouth as he tossed the screwdriver away. "How long have you been there?" he cried.
"Long enough doc," Red One answered an amused smile on his face.
Blowhole blushed. "Tell anyone I'll boil you." He threatened.
Red One nodded, still unable to get rid of his grin.
Thunderstorms
Blowhole whimpered as he cuddled against his mother.
She rocked him, making comforting sounds to him.
A large thunderstorm was going on and it hadn't stopped for the whole day.
"I don' like T'unders'orms Mommy," he whimpered, his toddler body shaking.
She rubbed his back. "I know baby."
CRACK!
Blowhole squawked in fear as the lights went out.
"Mommy!"
She shushed him gently and lit several candles.
"It's okay honey. The lights went out. We're okay."
He started crying, his flippers over his eyes.
"I wan ta T'unders'orms to stop!" he cried.
She pulled him into a hug and started to rock him. He cried in her shoulder.
"I know the storm is scaring you sweetie, but it'll be over soon."
Blowhole looked at her, sniffling.
Hopefully the Thunderstorm will stop.