Forgive Me |MHA|

Choices

Choices? What do you know about choices? 

Fifteen million orphaned children. I was one of them. 

Those villain attacks robbed us of our choice.

 To survive you did what you had to do: steal or starve, kill or be killed. 

You did what you had to, to survive. 

           Paris, France:  2088

62 years ago, some place in Asia, quirks first appeared. Ever since then, more and more appeared as the years went by. Now, 80% of the world's population has a quirk. I am one of the 80%. 

With these newfound powers, villains rose, creating calamity within our populace. You've probably heard stories of heroes, rising to the challenge and to fight against these villains. Such as in America, Japan, and for a brief time, even France had heroes. 

Although since the rise of Épine Noire, things have gotten harder ever since. Heroes being killed left and right, families being torn apart, children starving on the street. This villainous gang ruling like dictators. 

Even the military couldn't do anything about it. With the rise of Épine Noire, other villains in neighboring countries had similar ideas; so, no outside help would come to our rescue. 

Although like I've said, it was not always like that. I was 4 years old in the days before the villains attacked. It was a nice spring day. I didn't know my father, as he moved back to Japan after my mother left him. 

Me and my mother stayed in France. 

When everything went down south, everything became a bit harder to understand for my toddler brain. All I knew, is that I no longer could live the cushy life I was living, I had to fight to survive. 

My mother worked hard to let me live. 

I realized that once I turned the age of 6, that I didn't want her to suffer. 

"Goodnight, my sweet kitten," my mother breathed softly as she ran her fingers through my hair, as I laid under my blankets. As I watched my mother leave my room, and close the door behind me I slowly creeped out of bed, pressing my ear against the door as I heard my mother let out a heaving sigh. 

With that my heart filled with pity, and sadness, and I opened my window, and stumbled out, as I ran off. By dawn I was stumbling into the kitchen, filling our pantry with all that I could find. Bread, cheese, water, and some canned vegetables. Placing a little bit of money I could find on the table. 

This continued every month, then every 2 weeks. Then once the economy began to dry up, every week. Then every night. 

My mother never questioned me or the food, or money. She would just give me a friendly reminder, 

"stealing is okay, as long as its from the right people." By that she meant the corrupt. 

Although she never told me to stop, right? My heists had slowly become bigger and bolder, until I was notorious. There was nothing I couldn't steal. I put a new meaning on Cat Bandit, as I was a literal cat bandit. 

With my quirk, cat, I had all of the attributes of a cat, ears, tails, claws, teeth, eyes. Another small ability I didn't even tell my mom about, was that I was able to transform into a cat. No one new face. 

No one new my face, and no one would ever know my face. 

Then 2 years after thieving, it happened to us. All of our money and food, gone and taken. Right before we had to pay our taxes to Épine noire. You had to pay them each month, if you didn't have enough money, then your food. Although we had neither. 

.

.

.

A loud banging came to our door that afternoon, as my mom opened it, I stood behind her, shyly peaking out from behind her. There were two men at the door, one resting his gun on his shoulder. 

"I-I'm sorry.. but we don't have anything to give you..." My mother stuttered out, and I looked to her, and then the two men at the door. 

"You have to have something! No one has nothing!" The man shouted, and I felt my mom stiffen up from under me, as I held onto her skirt. "YOU KNOW WHAT HAPPENS TO THOSE WHO CAN'T PAY?" 

My mom nudges me away as she turns towards me and utters out a single word, before my ears began ringing from the sound of a gunshot. I stood paralyzed for a moment as I felt her warm blood splatter across my face.

Her blood and brain matter splattering against the wall. It took me a moment to even register what she had said before my instinct told me what to do before I understood what she said. 

run

As I ran I felt the need to throw up welling in my gut, as I ran back into my room as I heard the cocking of the gun as I slipped out the window and I ran as far, and as fast as I could. Not being able to muster up the concentration to transform. 

The little amount of happiness I was able to scrounge up before was now gone. I panted out as I pressed my body against the wall, as I heard the stomping of footsteps I held my breath and willed myself to change.

Standing frozen, up against the wall as I watched the men run passed me. 

From then on, I had to fight to survive. No more comfy bed to lay in, no blankets, no mom. Nothing. 

All I had was the clothes on my back, and the will to survive. 

For two years, that's how I lived, always wondering when this nightmare would end.

.

.

.

Sitting on the side of the street as people passed me by, I watched them as they went, I knew for a fact that they didn't care, they had to worry about getting food on their plate before thinking of some homeless kid. 

That was until a man had approached me, quirking a brow down at me. He seemed wealthy, wearing a fashionable suit, holding a briefcase in one hand. His eyes were covered by a pair of black sunglasses. 

The man squatted down to my level as he asked me, "you seem hungry kid, how well are you at sneaking around?" He asked. "Because if you're any good, then I can get you 3 meals a day if you're cooperative."

 I stared up at him my eyes intense, my fight or flight instinct welling up in my gut. I analyzed this man, I didn't trust him, but at the promise of food, my gut did. "What do I need to do?" My voice creaked alive, having barely spoken for months. 

He held out his hand for me to take. "We'll discuss that later, once you join me." He responded.

At that moment, I had a choice to make. 

When you're starving, with no belongings, no family, no friends, just a will to live and the clothes on your back, you have to take every chance you get. 

This was the choice that kept me from dying like a starved rat in a ditch. 

-----------Upcoming------------

I was given my first job, that's when I took my mother's words to heart.  

Although, what did it cost me?