My parents, Elena and Soma, were both born in 229 AF, 8 years before the Genesis Government was enacted. Their ancestors were displaced in The Fall, but ultimately survived.  Many generations of their family had worked on the construction of Genesis, and both of my parents had lived there for their entire lives. They went to school together, prepared to work during reconstruction, but it ended in their last year of high school.  After high school, they got married and got jobs at a major company, the Russell Weapons Manufacturing Company.  After a few years, they had me.  According to a family friend, I was always a pretty intelligent kid, but also quite anxious. I clung to my parents often, and because of that I got the nickname Koala and it has stuck to this day.

Speaking of that family friend, my parents were quite close with one family in particular.  While my parents were fairly well-liked by the entire community, they were closest with the Suttons. Benny Sutton and his wife Marie owned a restaurant named Benny’s Diner near our house.  He had two twin sons, John and Alex, who were about a year older than me.  I grew quite close to that family and eventually began to consider them my second family.

I spent a lot of time in Benny’s Diner as a kid and eventually came to meet two other children around my age, Jonas and Shiro.  Jonas, a firey boy with black hair and equally dark eyes, was the son of a mechanic who also lived pretty close to us. He was always full of energy, and had a bit of a temper, but grew to be one of my closest friends throughout my childhood.  Shiro, on the other hand, was much more reserved.  She had short brown hair and blue eyes that were always shielded with glasses.  She spent most of our childhood years making sure Jonas and I didn’t accidentally break our necks doing stupid things.  The three of us were inseparable throughout our elementary and middle school years.  Of course, all good things must come to an end, but nobody could have predicted how my life would turn out.

Halfway through my eighth-grade year, I began to notice a shift in my parents’ moods.  Throughout my childhood, they had always been fairly happy-go-lucky, but this was starting to fade.  They seemed to be under an immense amount of stress, and the bags under their eyes were getting more noticeable by the day.  They tried to hide it, but I could tell they were on edge.  Whenever they were home, they spoke in whispers, always chattering about something I didn’t understand.   I knew it had something to do with their work, but beyond that, I couldn’t tell.  I tried my best to counteract it by doing my best in school and helping around the house, but the downward spiral rarely slowed.

One night, my parents sent me over to the Suttons’ house to sleep over, as they were going out for the night.  They didn't give me a reason they were going out, just told me they would be back by morning to pick me up.  I didn’t think much of it, as this wasn’t the first time they’d done it.  I assumed they were just going into work for an overnight shift or something.  How wrong I was.

I still remember it like it was yesterday. The next morning, I woke up and ate breakfast with the Suttons.   Afterward, I sat on the couch waiting for my parents to arrive and pick me up.  I waited for what felt like an eternity, but they never came.  I ended up having to spend another night at their house, which they graciously allowed.  

At 9:30 am the morning after, a police officer showed up at the door.  He was tall, with hard facial features and empty, lightless eyes.  The minute I saw his face, my stomach dropped and I braced myself for what came next.  He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.  A sigh escaped his lips and he removed his hat, then finally began to speak.

“M-Mr. and Mrs. Sutton,” he began, “two nights ago, Elena and Soma were involved in a hit and run.  A hovercar crashed into their rear, knocking them off the road.  Afterward, they were gunned down by an unknown assailant.  I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

I felt the urge to vomit rise through me.  At that point, I’d dropped the glass of water in my hands.  It shattered on the floors, sending a wave of glass shards hurtling across the floor.  My brain didn’t even register this.  I was too busy being overwhelmed with emotions I'd never felt before.  Despair, rage, guilt, depression, grief.  They washed over my young mind like a tidal wave.  With tears streaming down my face, I ran out the door and back to my apartment, praying that it was all just some sick joke and that my parents would be just behind that door, waiting for me to come home.  

Of course, deep down I knew they were gone.  I just didn’t want to believe it.  Who could even be capable of doing this to such kind people?  It wasn’t fair.  Why my parents? Just… why?  That room, with its cold wooden floors and empty beds, became my prison for two days.  I locked myself in there, not listening to, and perhaps not even noticing the pleading of Benny, Marie, Kota, Shiro, my classmates, the police, nobody.  Nobody could persuade me to get up from that floor. 

The tears eventually stopped, however, and I did get up.  I came to the conclusion that they wouldn’t want me to live like this.  My parents didn’t raise me to give up, and it would disrespect their memory if I did.  So I got up.  I kept fighting.  Just like they’d spent the past fourteen years of my life teaching me to.

After that day, time began to blur together.  Luckily for me, the Suttons were able to take me in and give me a place to stay.  They took me to school and helped me finish my middle school days.  Benny and Marie treated me like a son, Alex and John like a brother.  I’m eternally grateful for the kindness and care they’d shown me.  Once again though, I was on the verge of a massive change in my life, though this time it would come in the form of a person.

James.