Heart of The Wraith

Ch. 3 - Family

AN: Insert cliché tragic backstory lol. There may be some imagery that is disturbing. There'll also be other "past" chapters sprinkled throughout that'll time jump. I'll indicate those chapters with an AN each time so it doesn't get too confusing. c:

Your parents were quirkless.

They expected their child to be just that seeing as the two of them inherited the non-dominant gene of their own parents which increased that likelihood.
It wasn't that they wanted a quirkless child on purpose, they just understood that's how it would go based on the current understandings of human genetics. Your grandparents also had relatively calm quirks that weren't dangerous or even valuable as "hero material." They expected to lead a normal, quirkless life with little to no conflict - excited to welcome their first child as desperately in-love newlyweds.

When you were finally born, life was perfect. You were perfect. They couldn't be happier, even as tired as they were after the sleepless first few nights. You were everything they asked for and more.
Ignorantly, they assumed there would be no surprises when you turned four and didn't manifest any sort of quirk inherited from your grandparents. However, they were right. At the age of five, you were still completely quirkless - just a boring, normal child on the day's standards.
You started school and lived a normal life with no conflict or surprises. Your mother adored you, leaving her job just to raise you as it had been her personal dream to be the "perfect stay-at-home-mom." Your father, however, loved you as a father should, but it was clear he was more detached than your mother. He simply loved his wife and wanted to give her everything she wanted, including a child.

They didn't anticipate that you'd be a late bloomer let alone receive an unexpected quirk.
You hadn't told them, but steadily - starting at the age of seven - you began seeing things that didn't make sense. Some were pleasant things: flowers blooming in the middle of concrete, tropical fish in the bright blue skies. Others were not so kind: blood pouring from faucets, corpses falling out of closets and disappearing as they fell toward you.
As a kid, you figured it was just your imagination running wild - being relatively self-aware. Unfortunately, your manifestations began to get noticed by others when you locked eyes.

By the age of eight, you had a fully realized quirk. The thing was...you hadn't found out by official means, no doctor examined you to confirm. You found out by other, gruesome means.

It first started with your mother who had been busy washing dishes around lunchtime. Your father was busy at work, Mom staying home to watch over you as it always had been.
You had come back inside after a rough summer play session with the neighborhood kids, hungry and ready for your favorite sandwich she always made for you. Each time, she cared to slice off the crusts, cutting it into four petite diagonal pieces. It was just one of the little ways she showed her love. You cherished her love for you and always took advantage of her kindness. 

She had just heard your small footsteps come in through the front door and make their way to the kitchen where she was. She had turned to meet your gaze with a smile, soap covering her hands as she held onto the plate she was washing. 
She began to open her mouth as if to ask if you were ready to eat, but that's when things began to go awry. As your eyes met hers with the same bright smile, things began to rapidly shift and change.

You stood just outside the threshold of the kitchen, your face falling into terror as the room suddenly filled up with water at an incredibly fast pace. Your mother immediately recognized it as well, it pouring down through the ceiling too quickly for her to escape - the room itself cut off to the rest of the house thanks to the centralized hallucination that you were creating.
You couldn't control it and it wouldn't stop. You weren't even exactly sure this was any of your doing just yet. You thought that maybe someone else, maybe a villain, had targeted her for whatever reason - your childlike thoughts unable to think of any other root cause.
Trapped outside of the kitchen, a transparent barrier cutting the room off, you watched with terror as you mother began gasping for air and reaching out for you. You tried with all your might, banging your fists against the invisible wall you unknowingly created. All the while, the panicked, strained look on her face became burned into your memory.