Mini Headcannons

The Reality Check

I remember every tragic moment that ever happened in my life.At the time, I was a measly age of four years old and my brother Dean was celebrating his ninth birthday.His eyes illuminated from the candlelight.I was sitting with my father and was singing Happy Birthday, then suddenly the house violently shook."What's happening Dean?"I asked my brother as I clutched his arm in fear."I don't know Sammy,"he replied, his voice tinged with hidden fear.Dust shook from the walls and ceiling, causing me to sneeze.

Our father ushered us out and we ran out, hand in hand.He crouched down on his knee and faced us and whispered, "Stay right here.I'm going to get your mother and your brother Adam.I'll be right back."but he never was.

He ran in and another bomb fell,turning our house to rock and bricks.Dean and I ran towards it and scrambled the rocks around, hoping to find survivors.I found two year old Adam and my mother, their pale faces covered in dust and blood.Dean found dad.They were all dead.

A rough voice with callused hands, grabbed us by the collar from the back and grinned slyly.He spoke, and his voice was thick with a Jamaican accent, "Welcome kiddos to the new world.Alhamdulillah."Dean muttered to himself, "Dude, we're christian." but the man heard.Handcuffing me to the telephone pole first, he grabbed Dean and tossed him to he ground, causing blood to flow from his nose."Not any more."