{ Splatoon } My Colorful Life

Many Years Ago

{Nathan's POV}
I stepped out of Inkopolis Tower, the scent of rain still present in the air. After that last turf war, it started to rain completely out of nowhere. Everyone (including the enemy team) had to take cover in the small tower.

Isabelle sighed. "Thank goodness it's over..." Ellie replied, "Yeah. Imagine what would have happened if it rained during the tower control!"

Max shuddered. "It would have been even more terrifying if you were the one actually on the tower..." Everyone began to laugh... And the giggling ceased when Isabelle saw something.

"EEEEEEEEEK! WHAT THE HECK IS THAT?"

I rolled my eyes and picked it up. "It's a frog, Isabelle. Calm down." I held it closer to her face (just to annoy her) and she completely freaked out. "GET IT AWAY FROM MY FACE!" I pouted and pulled it away. "Those lucky frogs can stay outside in the rain. At least we have shelter from the rain. Inklings are lucky.

"NATHAN, PUT THAT FROG DOWN!"

{Mark's POV}
I threw my Range Blaster onto the floor of my apartment in Flounder Heights. It was raining the entire time I was walking home, so... yeah...

I fall face-first onto my bed. Today was definitely not the best day in the world for sure. The fact that I almost died (twice) today was a huge factor.

I stared out my window and solemnly looked at the cloudy gray sky. Something must have come over me, because I pulled a big, dusty, charred book out from under my bed. I brushed the dust off of the cover.

Children's Poetry. This was my favorite book when I was a kid. My mom and dad would read it to me and my older sister all the time.

Of course, that was back when they were still alive.

The thoughts restlessly flowed through my mind, taunting me and forcing me to remember my wretched past.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Mommy!! Can you read the poetry book? Pleeeease?" I asked my parents while struggling to carry a big, heavy book. My mom smiled and took the book. "Of course, Mark." My older sister, Christine, sat down on the sofa next to me and Mom. My mom slowly lifted the hard cover and began to read.

Knock, Knock....

"Huh? That's weird. Who would be knocking at this time of night?" My Mom asked. My dad replied, "I'll get it, honey." What was behind the door would scar me for life.

BANG!

My Dad fell to the floor, magenta ink and blood leaking from the large gunshot wound on his chest. It all seemed to happen in slow motion. My Mom ran over to my dad's limp, lifeless body, screaming. My sister began to cry. All I could do was helplessly watch in horror.

"Tell us more or we'll kill you!" Shouted a loud, sharp voice. "I don't know what you're talking about!" My mom replied in horror. "Fine. Have it your way!"

BANG!

My mom lay on the ground next to my father, in an expanding pool of blood. Christine and I began to cry even harder as we ran over to our dying parents. "What do you want, you... you... crazy person?!" I shouted. The person stepped closer to me. "Looks like I missed a spot."

She pulled out her gun and pointed it at my eyes. Her fingers pulled the trigger, shooting magenta ink into my eyes. I cried out in pain as my vision blurred.

"STOP! DON'T HURT HIM ANYMORE!"

I awoke about 10 minutes later. My body was strangely warm, and my vision was blurry. I could faintly see the now completely lifeless bodies of my parents laying on the ground, with a blood-coated Christine lying next to them. The house was going up in flames. I ran over to Christina, and saw a message on the ground. It was crudely written in magenta ink.

Run, Mark

My eyes welled up with tears. Among the flames, I saw the book of poems. I grabbed it and ran, never looking back at the bloodshed.

---------------------------------------------------

I closed the book of poems and took off my Paintball Mask. It all happened when I was about six. The inside was stained with my tears. Looking down at the burnt book of poetry, I decided to make a poem of my own.

Roses are red,

Violets are blue.

My family is dead.

I wish I was too.