Chapter 3: Armando's Memories Part 1

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Armando

March 20

I was walking down the street, returning from school. My friends Arlo and Ian are busy talking about video games and creating them.

My phone buzzed.

It was a message from Mom: Son, where are you? Lunch is in the fridge. I need to meet someone.

I replied, saying that I would come home soon.

I find the gate open... This isn't good.
Mom always closes the gate when she leaves, and dad is never home, so that's out of the question.

I quietly walk to the porch. The door is open, and
... there is blood everywhere.

I swallow the bile rising in my throat.
"Mom, are you home?"

No one answers.

I enter my parents' bedroom, and there on the floor is my mother. I scramble to call dad, all the while trying to shake my mom awake.

The call goes to voice mail:
"Dad! Something's happened to mom. Come home!"

I cry out

Suddenly, I hear a crashing sound. There was a shadow near the window; the intruder escaped. I run after the intruder. He stood at the end of the street in a hoodie and a black mask. The next thing I know, my fist collides with his face. Very hard. I think his nose is broken. Angry, he lurches forward and twists my right arm. I cry out in pain as my arm falls helpless and numb. Before I could use my left arm to hit the man, a couple of males appeared out of nowhere. I feel something hard against my head. He smiles as I touch my back of my head, only to feel a warm liquid against my fingers.

Blood.

His eyes are the last thing I see. Coal black orbs.
I feel a warm hand touch my head, applying pressure on my injury, and then everything goes dark.

***

3 weeks later. Memorial Hospital, New York.

I wake up to a faint beep sound, probably a heart monitor. My eyes adjust to the light pouring in. I'm in a hospital gown with a bunch of wires attached to me.

Wait a minute...

How the hell did I land up in a hospital?!

There was a woman seated in a chair, resting her head on the edge of the hospital bed. Fine clothes. Hmm, rich.
She woke up with a start.

"Are you okay, little boy?" She asked in a sweet voice.

A stranger was asking me if I was all right while I was attached to machines, lying in a  hospital bed.

I half nodded.

She opened the door and called out. "I need a doctor here!". A doctor arrived shortly, accompanied by a nurse. The doctor in question, a certain Dallas Lowe, turned to me. "You had lost a lot of blood by the time you got here. I'm afraid you may experience some memory loss..." I zoned out after that... Memory loss? No, I remember my name...it's...it's..wait my family, right...do I have a family? The woman in the chair!

The lady spoke. "My name is Laura Brodeur, and this is my husband, Alistair Brodeur." She nods to the man on her right. He smiles. "We have adopted you. Don't worry, we have a daughter. She's around your age, so you won't be lonely."

I nodded at the brand new information. '...So they are not my real family... where are my parents? Don't they want me? Or are they...dead?'

They didn't answer the question but gave me a weary smile and hug.

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