Short Writes

Memory duel

Like many children I had a childhood. Unlike most it is completely forgotten. Though some officials I have met liked to remind where I had come from, the Satellite sector.

I have been adopted, quite surprising for a Satellite as snide remarks would be whispered. I am now living on the tops with an elderly-ish couple, old but not that old. They are really sweet and actually treat me like I was theirs. They tried to get me into dueling, he was the former trainer for a few champions till he retired the last champ went out with a bang, so I've been told. Something just doesn't get me appealed to the game. Or something wants me away from the game I get a splitting headache, I mean splitting, I feel the scull opening. Yes I am being over dramatic! Though riding is fun. I enjoy riding the bikes I feel free. Though I am. And tinkering with disks and the D-wheels are great. I always ended up fixing some of the neighboring kids' duel thing.

I was called into the living room both of them sitting there on the couch. I tensed this must be a serious conversation. Last time we had this type of conversation the police, despite being legally adopted and brought over, said cause I was/am a Satellite I needed to be marked as a criminal for illegal entry. They negotiated the best they could, but I needed a mark not a file. I got a mark on the back of my neck. I bit the technician who worked the gun, he said it was not going to hurt (cannot use the young age excuse). And that they were going to be nice! They treated me like any other! Shackling my wrists and ankles, making a scared child even more scared. So, yeah they asked for it.

"Come sit down please." Ma asked me. I rubbed my mark that is a intricate V and sat on the couch across. "I got a request," the old man started. "Goodwin had asked me to come back."

I cringed, the man was nice to let my old man to adopt me. But, that man was not a man to trifle with.

"I would like you to come join me and be my assistant." My jaw dropped. "I can't duel, I don't even know how to." I blurted out, realizing what I had said I took a deep breath. "It is just once right?" The old man nodded to my question.

"On Goodwin's request." I did not even realize I had spoke that out loud, but I had a feeling Goodwin was planing something. "Yes." He spoke out heavily almost in relief, he hated to keep things secret.

"When do we leave?" I asked standing up. "Tomorrow, pack a number of clothes we will be staying there awhile." With that I left.

I opened my closest and went into the dark forbidden area. I am lucky if I find anything in that corner; it is Davy Jones' Locker on dry land. As I pulled a duffel bag out a old box was revealed. Curiosity took me and I grabbed the box pulling it out. The worn cardboard had some damage but it was still good. I have a feeling I fought off some kids for this.

There wasn't much but I have a feeling I am missing a few things. The box had what little I owned from the Satellite.

The old man sees a duelist in me, but where, why, how.

I had finished packing my clothes put my hairbrush in there, honestly I don't know why I try to brush it. As I stood up I saw myself in the mirror, it would not hurt right? I mimicked a duelist, my legs stood apart to show off strength my left arm held up as if it held the duel disk and cards in hand. I had "drawn" a card from the deck, my arm moved all on it's own as I played my turn, as if I could see the cards in my hand and the opponent across from me. The opponent had finished his turn it was my turn [Guru anyone?]. The reflection in the mirror went a red sky and the person in the mirror was no longer me, a real threat stood. I drew and looked at the card suddenly a pain coursed through my head, the image gone I dropped to my knees, my hands gripped my head. Something was stopping me from remembering, from reliving.