Chapter 1: A Sorcerer's Rebirth Part 1
NO POV. NEW YORK CITY.
Screams and cries of pain could be heard inside a hospital room, a woman laid in bed as she was surrounded by doctors and nurses
"That's it, Mrs. Rogers. Just one more big push." The doctor said
"GGGAAAH!" The woman screamed loudly one more time as she pushed. Soon the cries of a newborn infant filled the rooms as the doctor and nurses cleaned the baby and made sure the child was breathing right. Once done they bundled the small child in a blanket and handed the child to the woman
"Congratulations Mrs. Rogers. It's a beautiful baby boy." The nurse smiled, the woman wept tears of joy as she held her son in her arms, smiling down at him
"... Aaron. My little Aaron." She said as she held her baby close, wanting nothing more than to protect and love him.
18 Years Later. Aaron's POV
"You fucking worthless brat!"
Crash!
The sounds of shouting and a bottle smashing against the wall rang out as I gasped in pain, feeling the sharp broken glass of the bottle cut my cheek
"Ah!" I yelped in pain as I held my now bleeding cheek, my father was in another one of his drunken rages, I was at the end of the hall and I could still smell the scent of alcohol on his breath.
"I said that dinner needed to be ready when I woke up, didn't I?!" My father stormed over to me and pushed me against the wall. My father was a large man, both in height and weight, he had a bit of muscle on him due to working as a landscaper.
"Y-Yes, but-"
"So why the fuck didn't you cook fucking dinner?!"
"T-There isn't a-anything to cook. W-We didn't go grocery shopping…." I said, averting my eyes as I was too scared to even look up at my father.
"Why didn't you go shopping then? You got money, you little shit!" My father slapped me hard against the face, leaving my cheek now red from both blood and the force behind his slap. I had a simple newspaper route to earn a little bit of cash, although everything I earn my parents take or force me to buy things for them.
"I-It's not a lot-"
"No excuses! Go wash up and cover that face, I don't want anyone seeing that shit on you." My father spat in my face before walking away. I held back my tears as I made my way to the bathroom and shut the door, walking over to the sink. I winced as I pulled out a piece of glass from my cheek. I yelped in pain as I opened the cabinet, luckily I found one last band-aid inside and quickly put it on to stop the bleeding. I shut the cabinet and looked at myself in the mirror. I wasn't much to look at, I had white skin with a bit of a tan due to me working a lot outside, mostly to get some distance away from my parents. I have brown hair that covered a bit of my eyes and reached down my neck. It's been awhile since I had a hair cut, and I had light blue eyes. I was 6'0 but was built like a twig due to malnourishment. My clothes weren't anything special either, a dirty green shirt, ripped up jeans, and socks with a few holes in them.
I washed my face clean and looked at my hands, they had blisters on them from all the years I've been put to work and had a few cuts. I took a deep breath and tried to think of the few things that helped me get through life. If you can even call this life. I thought about my favorite superhero, Captain America, and my favorite TV show My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic. Sure the show was for kids, but it helped me a lot growing up. I would watch it on the TV in the living room late at night or whenever my parents would be out. The jokes, lovable characters, and world drew me to the show. As for Captain America, I found a few of his comics while rummaging through a dumpster behind a McDonald's to find something to eat. When I first read it I was hooked on it. Seeing Captain America, a skinny kid turned mighty superhero inspired me to push on. Not to mention the lessons I learned from the two, how I should always do the right thing no matter what and never let greed or selfishness guide my actions.
I finished cleaning my face and stepped out of the bathroom, walking down the hall I passed the living room, seeing my dad and my step-mom. She was a young woman, in her late twenties, with blonde hair, brown eyes, and white skin.
"What are you looking at?" My step-mom, Leslie, asked while smoking a cigarette. Two years after I was born my mother passed away in a car accident and my dad blamed me for her death, which I guess is the reason why he treated me like this. He met his new girlfriend a few weeks after the incident and they were a match made in Hell. She treated me just as bad as my dad, using me like her personal slave and even forcing me to buy her new makeup. I glanced away and soon walked towards the door, putting on my shoes as I walked out the house. My house, like me, wasn't the best looking. It was rundown, the paint peeling off and the wood seemed to be moldy. I walked over to my bike and started riding off towards the grocery store. I took a deep breath and sighed softly, riding my bike gave me a small bit of peace, like I was flying and nothing could hurt me. I felt free.
"I wish this could be my life…" I said softly, I looked up at the clouds and smiled sadly, thinking back to my mom and hoped that she was up there resting.
HALF AN HOUR LATER
I was riding back to my house, the groceries I had in a basket at the front of my bike but I had to pedal a bit slower so as to not accidentally drop them. As I was pedaling I looked over and saw one of my neighbors, Mrs. Schneider, checking her mail. She saw me and waved at me.
"Aaron, happy birthday! I can't believe it's been 18 years already. You grew up so fast." Mrs. Schneider smiled, I completely forgot. It is my birthday, but it's not like my dad does anything for me.
"Thanks, Mrs. Schneider. I almost forgot today was my birthday." I chuckled. Mrs. Schneider walked over to me and handed me a small gift wrapped box
"Happy birthday." I gasped as I looked at the gift, I didn't expect this. Mrs. Schneider was one of the few people I knew who treated me kindly. I opened the gift and saw that it was a recorder.
"For whenever you have an idea and don't want to forget it." She explained. I smiled at her and gave her a hug, thanking her for the wonderful gift
"Thanks, this means a lot. Listen, I gotta go, but it was nice seeing you." I waved goodbye as I then pedaled my way back to my house, tucking the recorder in my pocket. Grabbing the groceries I went inside and went to the kitchen, upstairs I could hear thumping and moans.
"Crap…" I groaned as I now had to listen to that. I shivered in disgust as I started cooking, trying to block out the noise as I cooked.
After half an hour I cooked some pasta with marinara sauce. My dad and stepmom came down and soon started eating their food, I sat in silence as I ate, the two talked as if I didn't even exist. Until my father spat out some of the food and threw the plate off the table.
"Gah! The hell?! The fucking food taste raw! Are you trying to get me sick, you little shit?!" My father screamed at me.
"N-No! I-I-I swear I didn't-"
Smack!
My father backhanded me across my face, knocking me to the floor. I quickly reached into my pocket and turned on the recorder, luckily my father was too busy taking off his belt to notice it.
"I raised you! I kept you even after you killed your mother! And this is how you repay me?!" My father raised his hand and started beating me with the steel buckle of his belt. I whimpered and cried as he beat me, trying in vain to shield myself from him when suddenly he stopped. I looked up with tear stained eyes and saw my stepmom had stopped him.
"Stop, baby. You shouldn't be using this." My stepmom said sweetly before she then stomped on my hand with her heel. "You gotta make sure the little brat knows to stay in line and not fuck up!" She shouted. The two laughed as they teamed up together to beat me. I could do nothing but lie there and take it.
After what felt like an eternity, they finally stopped, leaving me on the ground, bruised, bloodied, and beaten. Tears streamed from my eyes as I quietly cried, fearing that if I'm too loud they'll come back and continue beating me.
"No more! No more!" I thought as I balled up my fists. I shut the recorder off and silently snuck out of the house. When I closed the door, I pulled out my dad’s phone which I snuck from out of the living room and dialed 911.
NO POV.
High above the sky, past the clouds, there were two figures watching down over the world, watching as things transpired between Aaron and his dad and stepmom. One of the figures wept in their hands as they saw the cruel acts that were happening to the poor boy. The figure turned to the other and pleaded.
"Please… he doesn't deserve this! He's a good boy. I'm begging you, give him a chance!" The figure pleaded. The other, a female with a pair of wings like an angel and a horn on her head, looked down at the boy as he dialed the police on his father’s phone, rage and heartache building inside her as she nodded.
"I cannot turn a blind eye to this injustice, not anymore. Especially when children are involved." The female figure with wings and a horn said, a flash of light glowing from her eyes. Fate shall be changed, and soon, for the poor boy, where a better life will be in store for him.
Aaron had stolen his father's phone out of the living room as he and his stepmom were asleep. He then dialed 911 and called the police. It took a while but the police soon came to the house, banging on the door.
"NYPD! Open up!" The police officer called out. Aaron's father opened the door, confusion written on his face as he stared at the two officers "We received word of a domestic abuse call coming from this residence."
"Abuse? That's crazy! Ain't nothing happened here!" Aaron's father said, flatly denying this.
"He's lying!" From the end of the hall Aaron stood there, his face badly bruised and beaten. Holding up the tape recorder, he played it and the sounds of both his father and stepmom abusing him could be heard. "He and my stepmom have been abusing me for years since I was two years old! They treated me like a slave, forcing me to cook, clean, shop, and work for hours and hours and hours, years upon years!" Aaron shouted, tears in his eyes. The police officers were quick to go in and cuff Aaron's father. Aaron's stepmom came downstairs to see what was happening and was soon handcuffed as well. The cops read them their rights and led them to their car, shoving the two into the back. One of the officers walked up to Aaron with a sympathetic look in his eyes.
"These two will be taken into custody. Will you be willing to speak up against them in court, young man?" The officer asked.
"I didn't suffer all those years just to sit back and watch. I'll gladly speak up against them." Aaron said, the officer nodded and then handed Aaron his personal number.
"When a court date is set I'll let you know. I'll even drop you off there, too." He offered. He looked in sympathy at Aaron and said, "You may not remember me, but I met you after you were born. Your mother and I were friends in high school. We were still friends even after high school. If you ever want to talk, call me, Aaron." Aaron thanked the officer with tears in his eyes and hugged the officer, thanking him. Aaron watched as they soon drove away, for once in his life he could actually have a good night's sleep without the fear of another beating.
NO POV, 3 HOURS LATER…
As Aaron slept a figure appeared by his bedside, looking down at him. The figure was surrounded in a faint glowing hue and wore a white gown, the figure of the being appeared to be female. The woman slowly leaned down, her delicate hands gently caressing Aaron's cheek.
"You grew up in such a harsh life, and yet you have a heart so pure and full of light. I'm so sorry, my sweet boy, but I promise that you will have the life you deserve after the court trial." The woman then shed a small tear as she leaned down and placed a kiss on Aaron's forehead before she disappeared with a tearful smile.
