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"The Phantom Kid"
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Artist: ModestyEmail: flikgirl_2000@yahoo.com Website: http://devoted.to/modesty Character's Story: "You're in the hospital. It's a miracle you survived, my boy," the doctor answered. I started to breathe normally again. I looked at myself again and didn't recognize the body. "Who am I? I...I can't remember anything!" I panicked again. The doctor's face became disappointed and he wrote some notes. "Amnesia..." he muttered. I couldn't believe it. I tried and tried to dig up memories. Any memory at all. But I could only draw blanks. I tried to move my hands to cover my face, but they wouldn't budge. "Why won't my arms move?" "You don't have arms anymore. I'm sorry". "No arms? Where are they?" No arms!? My head started to spin with grief and confusion. I passed out for several hours. When I awoke again, the room was grey, with balloons on the wallpaper. There were flowers on the table next to my bed and a teddy bear. It had to have all been a terrible dream. I tried to move my arms to see if they really were there. To my great relief they moved. I tried to pull them out from under the covers, but my right arm fell off. I blinked and picked up the prostetic arm with my other fake hand. I trembled as I looked at it. It wasn't all a dream, was it. The fake arm had a wristband attached to it. I read the labels, hoping to find answers. Name: Nameless. Age: estimate-12 Gender: Male SS#: N/A Birthday: N/A Room #: 516. I dropped the arm off the bed and lay back and shut my eyes tight. I opened them when I felt the tears had stopped. Eventually, they told me what had happened to me. A bus that I was riding on had been hijacked. A bomb was set and exploded killing all the passengers, except for me. They say my parents died on that bus and I was alone. After a while, I accepted the fact that I was going to be alone and to wear the arms. But soon I started developing a rash and I couldn't breathe with them on. It turns out I was allergic to the material of the arms. Since I didn't have any insurance to pay for nicer arms, stainless steel arms were made for me. For some reason, they made me feel more powerful and I didn't mind having the metal arms anymore. They were kinda cool. The nurses were awfully kind to me. They all referred to me as Nameless, since I despise being called "Kid" or "Sport" or "Deary" or "Sonny". We would play video games, so I could adjust to using metal fingers. Sadly, the hospital could not afford to keep me there, so they sent me to an orphanage. That wasn't cool. It was very lonely at the orphanage, even with all the kids there. No one would play with me, because I looked too scary. The teachers there tried to include me in group activities, but I was still shunned. Some of the older kids would pick on me all the time. They would make fun of my metal arms or my scars or my freckles or my red hair or my name. Sometimes I would cry, but only after I knew no one was watching. Then came a terrible day. I will always remember the horror of this day. It was a Friday, after lessons and some boys were being considered for adoption. They laughed at me saying I would never be adopted, except by the circus. They also called me many nasty names. Usually, I would let them have their fun and they would get bored. But not today! They really wanted to make me cry, so they started to beat me up. I don't know where the strength came from. But before I knew it, I had flung the boys across the room. Their eyes became large with terror and one began to cry. In a blinding flash of light, they were all mangled. I shudder to this day with guilt. My metal arms were still red from the intense heat. My body burned as if it had been set on fire. I knew I had to get away. So I ran off as far away as I could get to somewhere no one would find me. I got lost in some dark alleyway and cried. "What's happening to me?" I wailed to the sky. I looked at my metal hands, a little mishapened from the melting heat. "I didn't mean to do it!" I ripped off the metal arms and kicked them away. When I started to walk away someone called to me. I spun around quickly to see a small, old lady holding my arms. "Little boy, you dropped your arms. Don't throw them away, they're so pretty". "I don't want them. I hate them," I said trying to fight tears. The old lady was obviously a nun, with her brown habit and sandals. "What are you doing here at this hour, young man?" she asked kindly. "I have no place to go...". She smiled, "Come with me then, you can stay with us for as long as you like". At first I felt I was too guilty to stay at a church, but she convinced me to come because it didn't matter what I had done I was still precious. The nun introduced herself as Sister Frances Clare, a carmelite nun in a contemplative order. That made no sense to me, but very few things she said ever made sense to me. The nuns were the nicest people I've ever met. I felt very safe around them. They helped me fix my hands back to normal and coated them with heat resistant substance. Sr. Frances became my favorite and I could tell she was attached to me. It wasn't long until she finally asked me where I had come from. I didn't want to leave the convent, but I knew I shouldn't lie to her. So, I told her everying, from the hospital to the day at the orphanage. She looked very disappointed and I felt so terrible. I started to leave the room, but she stopped me. "My son, your sins will be forgiven, but there is a law against hiding you". "Please! Don't send me away! I told you it was an accident!" She asked me to described what happened one more time. So I did, not leaving out any details. After I had finished, she sighed. "I will ask the Mother Superior what she thinks. For now, confess to Father and go to bed". I did as I was told and trudged to the chapel. I was very angry. I was so happy here with the nuns as my friends. I didn't ever want to leave. Then I could feel my skin grow hot again and my hands turned white hot. I ran to the baptismal font to put them out before I hurt something. They sizzled and I shocked myself. The water had darkened with grease from the arms and I could see my face clearly. I was only a shadow! I was completely black from head to toe. My ankles were decked with wings and my chest bore a triangular symbol on it. Then the water suddenly cleared up and I felt a great weight lift itself off my shoulders. I was forgiven, but I had a job to do. When Sister Frances returned she told me Mother Superior had asked the Police to come question me. It could be possible for me to stay if I was sentenced with community service. I told her quickly what had happened in the chapel the other night and she was surprised. "Look what I can do!" I declared and touched my chest where the triangle remained. Before her eyes I transformed into the shadowy, black figure with metal arms. "Holy Ghost! What is this?" We decided to keep it a secret. The Police questioned me and determined that my arms must have malfunctioned and I wasn't completely guilty. The judge allowed me to stay with the nuns as long as I went to a proper school. I also had to spend three months in therapy to satisfy my sentence. Sister Frances made me promise that I'd only use my power to help people, not to hurt them. And so began my life as the Phantom Kid, protector of the innocent and weak, terror of evil. Fast as the wind, strong as an ox, hot as a volcano, and untouchable as a shadow, that's me, the kid without a name, but with a destiny. Comments: It took a long time, but I'm sooo glad how this turned out. A lot of thought went into the story too. The arms were really hard and the hair too! :P |
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