I looked out the window as the giant robots fought against an even bigger army of giant robots. Where they here to help me? Why? What's so special about me? Suddenly, a man with a parachute barged into the house. He was fairly tall, in his mid thirties and had black hair. I looked a lot like this man. He removed his parachute and rushed to me. “Adam, are you OK? Did the Decepticons hurt you?” He sounded like a worried parent. “Is that the bigger army?” I asked, I didn't want to say yes and get the good robots into trouble. “Yes.” He said, plainly. “Then no, neither of them did. Who are they? Who are you? Why are you here? What's going on? What does this have to do with me?” I asked. So many questions, and preferably I'd like them answered before we died. “You don't know who I am?” He asked, looking angry. He didn't look angry at me, but at my parents. “You didn't tell him?” He roared. Spit flew everywhere. “We were going to tell him when he got home!”
“Well, tell him now then!” He roared again. Who does this guy think he is, bossing my parents around. My dad didn't normally stand for this kind of attitude, but there was something about this man that scared him. My dad pulled me away from the man and sat me down at the dining table. “Adam. Me and your mother, are surname isn't Witwicky, it's Taylor.”
“My last name's Taylor?” I asked, what a pointless thing to lie to me about for all my life. “No, your surname is Witwicky. But ours isn't.” He looked almost tearful. This didn't make any sense. So, I had a different surname to my parents, “Why?” I asked. It seemed a perfectly legitimate question. “This man, his last name is Witwicky. That small group of robots are his guardian, and have been for many years. They're now your guardians.” My mother said, looking me in the eye. I still don't understand.
A crash came from upstairs. The Witwicky man pulled us out of the way as one of the good robots cannonball fell through the house, detatched from his hand. “No time to explain now. We need to do something!” The man yelled.
Although I didn't know what the hell is going on, I felt I needed to protect these robots. I saw they were beginning to lose through the window. “I can help.” I said, looking at the man. “No.” My dad said, dominantly. “Definitely not.” My mother pulled me into a hug so tight I nearly choked. But the man looked at me. “Are you sure?” He asked, looking me in the eye. “Yes.” I gasped through my mothers arms. I managed to pull away. She began bawling. My dad comforted her, a look of defeat on his face. “Go.” He said, looking at us.
The man looked at me and grabbed my shoulders. “Can you control your arm?” He asked. “What?”
“I'll take that as a no then.” He said. “Where's your room?” He looked at me in the eye, almost pleading. I looked outside and saw the robots being surrounded. “Up here.” I dragged the man up the stairs and into my room. Luckily, it was the other side of the house that got demolished, this half still seemed sturdy.
The man looked through draws as if looking for something. He smiled and pulled out a grapple I'd been working on. “Put this on.” He told me.
Within minutes it was screwed to my robot arm. I looked out the window and saw a U2 Spy plane fly out of the sky and transform into another giant robot. Please let it be one of the good guys. “Blitzwing.” The man said sinisterly, looking up at the robot. Obviously not a good guy then. But, just to confirm, it pulled off one of it's wings and it turned into a giant robotic gun. He aimed it at what looked like the leader of the good robots head. “Aim for the eye.” The man pulled me to an island clinging onto the wall, in front of the robot. The destroyed piece of the house felt like it was going to give way.
I acted quickly, I aimed my fist at Blitzwings eye. I shot it and got him right in the light that was obviously making hi see. He yanked me off the platform and threw me around in agony. I screamed as I swung around, being pulled by my robot arm.
