Punk Soldier from Outer Space

The next day, Jimmy got up as usual, found a coffee machine, made himself coffee, and went out for a walk. He wanted to find out more about that mysterious place he had been catapulted in. He found out that the city worked kind of like in our world. There was a school, a market, some parks, a hospital and much more. He then went back to the library, only to find out that Twilight had woken up and had been making breakfast for herself and her pet dragon, Spike.

"Hello there! Good morning! Where have you been?", asked Twilight.

"Whatever... I've been cruising your town for a while...", responded a bored Jimmy.

"Uh, yes, I was wondering... since you just came here and you're a stranger..."

"You want to hear my story, don't you?"

"Well, not exactly, it's more of a..."

"Ok."

He took a long breath and then started smoking. It helped him remember.

"Dad! Dad! Look at my gift!"

A family lived in a house in Manhattan. There was a mother, blonde, with flashing green eyes. A father, with brown, perfectly combed hair. At their feet, a little boy, with his mother's eyes, and his father's brown hair. He was smiling, and holding up a paper crafted gift for father's day. Beside him, a little, almost tiny girl, with intense black eyes. She didn't smile.

"Daddy! Don't pay attention to him! Look at my gift!", squeed the girl. The big man pushed him aside, almost throwing him in a corner.

"Of course, my little princess! It's beautiful, isn't it, James?", exclaimed the father.

Jimmy just sat, with tears filling his eyes. He nodded. His mother noticed his sadness, but didn't care. After all, he was just an untalented piece of trash, not worthy of any notice. Not worthy. She tossed the boy's gift in the flames of the fireplace, making it produce smoke. That was the first time he smelled smoke.

Jimmy had a bourgeois family, a father with a stable job, a housewife mom, a nice home in a good part of town. The only problem the family had was him. His parents always wanted a girl, and when he came around, they weren't that happy. Being catholic, they couldn't leave him in the streets. So they kept him in a little, anguish-inducing room, giving him just a bit of water with some bread. He always was treated like a plague, a tumor in a once perfect body. Then his sister was born, and things started to get even more downhill. They taught her that he wasn't normal, that he could have been bullied for any reason. He wasn't even human to their eyes. But Jimmy had always loved them, until that moment, when all his feelings were shattered. He wouldn't have ever spoken to them again. The day after the event, he left his house. He started roaming the U.S., with no hopes and no dreams. He never felt love until he was 18. But we will get to that later.