My name is Arthur, Arthur D. Arch, to be more specific. I am studying in England and I am 15 years old. Legally, I'm not English, I'm Polish. However, my adoptive parents are English, and to tell this story, we need to go back in time.
9 YEARS AGO
I was living with my biological parents, we were happy. My father was a doctor and my mother was a psychologist. I had everything that would make anyone happy, but everything collapsed.
It was 8 PM when I heard a noise downstairs. I decided to go down, and when I arrived, I saw my parents bloodied on the floor. I was scared. Just as I was about to call my mom, I saw her fly into the wall, which would break anyone's bones and knock them out. And when I looked, I saw a man, wearing a black hood and a coat. What I saw at that moment was something that only happened in movies. My mother, who was bleeding and severely injured, regenerated with the appearance of a green light around her body. I couldn't believe what was happening, but before my mother could heal, the hooded man set her body on fire with a purple flame. With his fist engulfed in flames, the hooded man delivered a blow that pierced my mother's chest. I saw my mother look at me, and when she saw me, her eyes shone with a green light, creating a sort of bubble around me. I wanted to help her, but the bubble wouldn't break. I tried calling out to the hooded man to distract him and make my mother escape.
But it was as if my voice didn't reach outside the bubble. With her last strength, my mother moved her lips. After that, the incident was treated as a fire by the news and the militia, but I know it wasn't just that. I tried to explain it to the authorities, but they didn't believe me and thought it was a post-traumatic imagination.
Afterward, an English couple who were traveling heard about the "accident," and they adopted me, treating me as their own son. They are Joshua and Clare, Joshua, with red hair, black eyes, and freckles, and Clare with light eyes and blonde hair. I am very grateful to both of them for giving me the feeling of family I thought I'd never have again.
But whenever I look at myself in the mirror, I remember the appearance of my parents. Schneider, my father, was well-built, with graying hair that resembles mine. I inherited my father's good body shape, but my face resembles my mother's, with green eyes and very fair skin.
I don't remember much of what she wanted to warn me about that night, 9 years ago, because I was too young, and I couldn't fully understand. But the part I remember to this day, and what carved itself into my soul, was what she said:
"Arthur, live."