APH: Hurricane SandyAlfred stares at the crumpled remains of his home. It was torn to shreds, and bits of wood stuck up from bits and pieces. The scene didn’t look…right. This wasn’t him. This wasn’t his country. He looks out towards New York City, where the buildings are covered in thick gray mist. This…wasn’t happening…he sinks down to his knees, buried in the thick, churning blanket of mud. He can already feel the warm water collecting in his eyes, and the drop of water slides down his cheek. With another. And another.
His tears fall, and the rain pounds against his shoulders. Alfred is vulnerable. He knows he’s not a hero. Not if he didn’t save those lives. Not if he had to stare at the remains of this disaster that plagued his country…that plagued him. It wasn’t worth it. The rain drops feel like acid on his skin…his tears feel even worse. Tears. Heroes don’t cry. Heroes buck up and save the world…heroes&
I Dream To Fly!All Alfred wanted was to fly.
He was constantly picked on and targeted by the other kids, but he really wasn’t a target. If someone even tried to pick on him, he’d make sure that person would suffer. When an entire chorus of kids yelled insults at him, he’d just ignore them and pretend there was silence. But it was hard not to laugh when you saw him. His bomber jacket was two sizes too big, and his shoes were huge when he didn’t have big feet. He wore hand-me-downs and always had a goofy grin on his face. The funniest parts, though, were his cowlick and the thick pilot’s goggles he wore on his head. The goggles and the bomber jacket made him feel like a pilot, even though they were constantly made fun of because he never took them off.
Never. He didn’t feel the need to. Even in gym class, he kept them on. Even when they were painting in art, he kept them on. Even when the teachers demanded him to take them off, he didn’t. Throughout the year th