Asher Himmel
October 18th, 2010
Eugenio Himmel's House
Dreams are a good way to escape from reality. In them we can be who we want to be without limitations. I always dream that I am a very famous magician or that I am a quite powerful telepath, until at the end of my dreams I return to my sad reality; I have a red aptitude for magic and at 15 years old I have not yet developed a unique ability, so dreams are the only way to live my fantasies.
My only family member is my grandfather, who suffers from senile dementia. Because of his condition and my lack of mana, we were exiled to a shanty town on the borders of our country. The good thing is that the government gives us food and water is free.
Every day I have to do household chores and take care of my grandfather. Just now I am getting out of bed to prepare breakfast.
I go down the stairs of the house, and go to the kitchen. I take five eggs and boil them. While they are boiling, I go to wake up my grandfather and accompany him to his respective chair. I take out several slices of bread and divide them evenly on two plates.
-Thank you very much Sol. It's my favorite," says my grandfather as he smiles and puts some egg on a slice of bread.
-...
My grandfather sometimes mistakes me for my mother. In his mind she still lives. My mother disappeared when I was just 8 years old. That event eventually wore down my grandfather's health.
When we finish breakfast, I give my grandfather his medicine and take him outside for some fresh air.
Our neighborhood was full of graffiti and a lot of noise. Some houses were in disrepair including ours and the street was full of holes. There were kids playing baseball in the street with broomsticks as bats and empty juice boxes as balls.
I go in to my grandfather and take him back to his room to rest. I lay him down on his bed and turn on the TV to his favorite program. Just as I turn it on, he is interrupted by a news section.
{We interrupt your regular programming to report a bank robbery near the Eternity border. Three bank employees were killed in the attack. The perpetrators are two level 7 mages and a unique ability user. It is recommended to stay at home while authorities take action}
Robberies and murders are the daily bread in this society. Although there are laws, they seem to apply only to the weak and the strong do as they please. Whoever has power can make the world his own. Even the presidents of every country are high-level magicians or possess very powerful unique abilities.
If only the ----- existed, this wouldn't happen," says my grandfather while crying.
Whenever my grandfather sees news related to crimes he cries and babbles nonsense. I give him a hug and then he calms down.
-Thank you so much for comforting me Sol. You are as warm as the first time I held you in my arms when you were still a baby," says my grandfather as he smiles and wipes away his tears.
-By the way, Sol, can you help me unpack some boxes I have in the basement? Since we moved I haven't found the time and I always forget," adds my grandfather.
It's the first time my grandfather gives me such a clear order. He almost always asks me for meaningless things like making cake for breakfast or that I should buy him candy at night.
I hurried to the basement to carry out my grandfather's command. As I turned on the light, I looked at 3 huge boxes side by side. They were heavy so I proceeded to open them one by one. In the first one there was a pile of pictures, dresses and decorations. I took them out and put them aside. It was strange, as some of the photos were blank and others looked like they had been edited to erase someone.
In the second box there was a rather odd costume and some gadgets. Maybe my grandfather, when he was sane, had been a clown, or at least that was the image I had in my head. I didn't pay much attention to it.
When I opened the third box, I found a stack of thin books with pictures. Each one had colorful titles and rather striking covers so I stopped the cleaning for a moment to read those picture books.
The more I read, the more I got hooked.
It was pictures with dialogue and action. As I read in one or another, this type of story was called a comic book. Each story was unique and diverse. An alien raised by humans who possesses a host of abilities and decides to take care of the world that took him in; a man who turned his personal tragedy into hope for others; a boy who gets powers from a spider bite; a group of people who are discriminated against and hated for being unique; among others. It was a sensation almost as unique as dreaming. It's funny that one word kept repeating itself in every story and that word was hero.
I had never heard that word in my life. How different the world would be if such heroes existed. Champions who defend the weak and prevent tragedies.
If only I had an ability, I would be a hero like in the comics....