Hero Factory Oneshots

imagine yourself

"Let me tell you a story.
Imagine yourself as a young child, you're maybe three years old, you're almost four. You have a favourite toy, a favourite plushie, colour, you get up all energised for the day after a night's rest.

Suddenly, you're in a cold room, or at least it felt cold. Empty. Lonely.
You hear people talking, and then your mom and dad walk in. They hug you, comfort you, take you home.
You ask what happened, but they don't give an answer. Or you don't remember. Maybe you got lost and went missing.
You don't recognise your home, the smells, the rooms.
You don't react to the name they call you by, because you don't recognize it.
You get used to it, you go to kindergarten and then school like any normal child would. But you get bullied for your name. Your parents say to ignore the bullies, but they don't do anything else either. You're lucky your teachers acted accordingly. But you still hated your name.
Your parents always called you by your nickname, that was okay.
You loved your parents, even though they sometimes yelled. You didn't like it when they yelled your full first name.
Sometimes you were too scared to go get food in the evening after they yelled at you and they didn't come up to check on you either, so you went hungry to bed. But you grew used to it eventually.
You didn't realise you were unhealthily underweight, you just thought you had a small build. After all, you were still full of energy every day.
One day, you're a young teenager, your parents tell you there are some problems and you'll have to live with a relative for a while until its settled. You hesitantly accept that, but later you hear talking and go down to spy on them. A person you saw maybe once in your life was in the living room with your parents. You see them be handed a wad of cash, the stranger saying 'you people are mad.' your parents only respond with 'it's business.' you don't understand, but quickly go back up to pack your belongings for the next foreseeable time period.
The stranger was a cold lady, stern, you felt fearful of her but also keen respect, even though you don't know her. She lived more on the countryside with her older brother, who you loved to play baseball with. He was your uncle, you called the lady Auntie. She preferred reading on the balcony over sports, but apparently she's an expert at skiing.
It took you a while to settle in, but you felt welcomed. It was an odd feeling, you felt more at home in a stranger's house than your own.
During dinner, auntie talks about something and you ask what that is. She spills the tea in how some entitled people were causing a disturbance at the library and that's how you find out she's a librarian. Your uncle is a teacher in an elementary school, no wonder you two got along. That's when you realise you're not actually sure what your parents do for a living, so you ask your uncle and aunt. They hesitate, but you don't notice, and say they're business owners. Nothing else and topic shifts to getting you enrolled into a different school that was closer by, because your old school required a commute of up to an hour and they didn't want to stress you that much.
Weeks turned to months, you've grown quite accustomed to the new home. Auntie was stern, yes, but she was a good person. So was her brother. They were both good people, well loved, they cared about you. They didn't make you feel scared to talk, to come down to get food.
One evening, you didn't fully close the door to your room and could hear your uncle's voice. He was yelling, he rarely ever raised his voice because of his work environment, he was always gentle from talking to young children. Assertive, but gentle. It was a shock, it worried you but also made you curious.
You sneak closer and listen.

'We bought him, he's ours and we love him! I don't give a flying FUCK that you 'own' him, we spent money on that kid and we'll continue spending money on him because we actually want to treat him like a living being! TO HELL WITH YOU AND YOUR BUSINESS!'

he slammed his phone down, which startled you. You could tell he was angry, very angry. You wanted to ask but the way he rubbed his face and cursed under his breath made you think it was probably better to not pry. But who was 'him'? Maybe a dog and the company is being greedy? Who was your uncle talking to? Is there someone else you haven't met yet?