Journal Entry #25

Date: November 14th, 2031. Tuesday

One's Identity

Ever felt like that you were special in the world, different from everyone else. Of course you have, we all have felt that way at least one point in our lives and in a way its true. Think about it, there are close to six billion people on Earth alone, nine-hundred million on Celestial, and close to 1.5 billion on Mars a.k.a Red Plains. In genetics, no one is ever identical to another, even twins have something different in them. But lets not forget about experiences, relatives, birth order, culture, opinions, likes, dislikes, only child, siblings, environment, father and mother, mother only, father only, and the list goes on. It's all nothing more than factors of a person's identity, so many factors, it's amazing how most people, past and present, are made into the people they are known as today and all because of these factors of your identity. Think about the people in history or the famous people you see or hear about each day and they'll say "I am who I am because of…" and then the stories come and the media goes crazy. It is fascinating how people turn out because of this, but why, you may ask, am I talking so much of Identity Factors? Well it's because of myself, the reason why I haven't written in this old journal blog for so long, my dear readers, is because I have been busy trying to find my own identity and my ever longing confusion and inner struggle to determine if I'm human or freak.

If you're still subscribed to this blog and receive that update email after posting thing, please respond and just choose one, freak or human, and tell me why you chose it. Don't worry about me being gone for so long, I have a feeling that I will be doing these blogs a lot more.

-T.A.R

Also, it's glad to be back!

Hands froze over the keyboard, the glass screen of the laptop projecting the short essay on Microsoft X word document. The light from the screen showed the face of a light brown male. The person who wrote it scanned over the contents checking for any errors that he could detect. Finding only a few and quickly fixed them and doing two more check overs before saving it to the laptop's files. He closed the word document and opened to the internet browser, which had the blog account open to the editor page. Clicking on the upload link a small web page opened that showed all the documents on the computer, the person scrolled down to the document he typed and the green upload loading bar appeared on the upper left corner of the screen and started to fill at a rapid rate, a second later it disappeared and so did the mini web page. The blog changed to the title page which read "T.A.R Bringing Ideas To A New Height!" and under that text read a small message reading "Upload Complete".

A deep sigh resonated from the male. He turned off the laptop and closed the screen, the images now gone and the keyboard still visible despite the screen being down. The African-American boy clapped three times and the lights came alive in a blinding flash. The person covered his eyes from the pain of the sudden brightness.

"Man, it has been a while if my eyes can feel that pain again." The young male said. He rubbed his eyes until the pain stopped and he removed his hands away showing his face and his sleepy eyes. His mouth opened wide and his eyes closed as he roared his morning breath in a long yawn. After finishing, he got off his twin bed, the black cover being ruffled slightly and the bed creaked in relief of the weight being lifted off its metallic shoulders. The boy stood at a height of six feet, rather tall for his age, he was dressed in his night time clothes, which were slightly dirty and ripped pajama pants and a gray wrinkled long sleeve shirt. He had an over average build as his muscles were visible on his arms, but nothing to stop and stare at.

The boy stretched a little, sighing in relief as bones cracked and his body became more movable as he walked towards his bathroom connected to his room. The room itself had his twin bed with a black cover and a large red and blue pillow, wooden desk with a red lamp on top and three large textbooks on them plus a chair that was pushed in, a medium sized flat screen TV on his wall opposite of his bed, a gaming system on the carpet floor under his TV, a wooden dresser with four levels, a few posters on the wall one of them was a poster of Chicago and another of the Declaration of Independence, a window in front of his desk that showed another building, and in between were the city's new train rails. The room was mildly clean with a few scattered clothes that the boy walked over to get to the bathroom.

Once he entered the bathroom it was just a simple one, a toilet, sink with medicine cabinet over it, step in shower; and on the sink was a toothbrush and toothpaste, mouthwash, soap, shower rack and other bathroom essentials. The boy looked in the mirror and saw his face and his unnatural blood red left eye and ocean blue right eye.

"Bags? I just woke up, how do I have bags?" The boy questioned staring at said bags. He sighed and started to stripe and stepped into the shower. The sound and mist of a shower arrived as the boy washed himself and fifteen minutes later stepped out with a towel wrapped around his waist and slightly noticeable six pack, the muscle on his leg was also very visible. He stepped out into his room. In the next twenty minutes the African-American boy chose his clothing for the day which was simply a red T-shirt, blue jeans with white flames licking the bottom, and a new pair of blue and red running next ten minutes were him ironing his clothes and dressing himself, also included was his morning ritual of washing and drying his face, brushing his teeth and mouthwash. After looking in the mirror and seeing that everything was great he walked to his room, grabbed the pair of socks on his bed and put them on following his shoes.

After doing all of that he left the bedroom through the door on the left of his bed and in between the dresser and desk. What greeted him was a living room fit with a couch fit for four, two recliners facing the sides of a glass coffee table in the center, and a small TV against the wall opposite of the seats and table. Next to the door was a small table with four picture frames face down and the table. Two stuffed black messenger bags sat under the table. Just on the left was a coat rack holding a white hoodie jacket with a red and blue design and a heavy black winter coat and hat. Under the rack was three pairs of shoes and a pair of steel toed boots.

Behind the living room was the kitchen, complete with oven, large refrigerator, stainless steel sink, microwave, and six cabinets on the bottom and top. The black tiled floor of the kitchen seemed to fit well with the black marble design of the counters. In the center of the kitchen was a black marble table with two cabinets on each of it's four side with six bar stools with red cushions surrounding the table and awaiting to be sit on.

The boy looked over both the living room and kitchen one more time, seeing that everything was clean. He was glad, once he came back the place was nothing more than cobwebs, dust, stains and smelled like death came through; but after a few days of non-stop cleaning, shopping, and grocery shopping, the house was replenished of loss resources, smelled of daisies and looked like a normal, clean, home.

The boy went into the kitchen to make some breakfast, glancing at the time to see that it was five in the morning.

"More than enough time." He thought as he went into the refrigerator, opening the door and seeing it full of meats, vegetables, and fruits. Frozen goods were overhead and the door had six different kinds of cheese, different sauces, butter and food add ons. After thinking of what to choose, he grabbed eggs, bacon, cheese, and butter. Putting them all on the table, he quickly moved to the cabinets under the sink, kneeling to look under and pull out a cooking pan with a divider in the center.

"Cooking two things at once, the way of the future for me." The boy happily thought as he put the pan on the stove. The boy turned to look in the cabinet on the left of the oven to see the sight of dozens of different spices, but only chose the crushed red pepper, season salt, and black pepper. Next thing the boy grabbed that was on top of the fridge was bread. The boy went into the cabinets with the dishes and got a bowl, a small glass plate, and fork. Laying everything on the table, the boy was ready to cook.

It was fifteen minutes later that the boy sat at the cleared table with his plate that held toast, seasoned eggs, bacon, and toast on top to make it a bacon, eggs, and toast sandwich. The pan, bowl, and fork were in the sink, the boy making a mental note to clean them later today. He sat there eating in complete silence, glancing every three minutes towards the window over the sink, looking at the building across from him, in truth the boy wasn't looking but thinking of the city he grew up in and wondering if his life would continue on as it did before.

"Chicago, its good to be back." The boy remembers uttering those words on his first day back about two weeks ago. Nothing hasn't really changed about the city, there was a few noticeable, but not really important, changes that he looked into. The teen loved information, it was key to survival for the world and with information you can even destroy it. Pushing those thoughts back he continued to eat his breakfast and once done he put the plate with the other used kitchenware. Looking to the clock he saw that it was 5:45 A.M.

"Time to go, let's hope today becomes one of new beginnings." The young teenager thought as he went to the door and grabbed the white jacket. He looked it over on the back and saw the design. On the back was two dragons that stood back to back. The left dragon was red and the right was blue. There was a stream of fire from both dragons of their respective colors and going on the sleeve they faced. It ended covering the wrist portion with a circle of fire. The young teen loved the jacket as it was the first thing he got once he left home those two years ago, somehow through everything it had stayed intact and in his possession. He gave a quick smile as he put it on for another day.

He then grabbed the messenger bags that held a two year's worth of homework, plus a giant binder, and he was about to exit the home through the door that had six different locks before he felt it. It was loud and strong, but only he could hear it, sounding off like a slow pulse, but with enough intensity to blow a brick wall down.

The boy's hand over the door knob starting to shake as the pulse like sound kept going in his head, he tried to reach for the knob only for the pulse to get stronger and stronger the closer he got. Teeth clenched and sweat start to develop. The boy finally turned around and looked directly at the source, a small white leather book and on top were two pieces of jewelry: a necklace and ring. The necklace was silver with a sapphire gem shaped like a hawk on the left and blood-red ruby shaped also like a hawk on the right, their wings were outstretched and in between them was a circular red and blue gem. The ring was silver and was decorated with eccentric gold details and four purple gems around it. He saw and felt the waves that the three items radiated, the white book gave off a white pulse and the necklace gave off one of blue and red, and the ring gave one of purple.

"You know I don't need you three to use them?" The boy talked to the inanimate objects as if they could respond.

"Can you please just let me live a normal life? That's why I'm back in my city, you three have to stay hidden from everyone." The boy was agitated and once he stopped seeing and feeling the pulses he turned around and went for the knob only for one big pulse to go off, one strong enough that it brung him to his knees, making everything on him feel like a ton.

"Fine! Just...stop!" The boy cried out, getting up and walking to the table, he put the necklace around his neck tucking it under his shirt, grabbed the book to put it in his back pocket, then put the ring on his right index finger. So with a deep sigh, the boy went to the door, unlocking all six locks and exited. All the lights went off as soon as the door hit the frame and the sound of the six locks filled the darkness.

The young black male put his keys into his pocket, turning towards the downward stairs that greeted him. He lived on sixth and highest floor of the apartment complex. He walked down the brown carpeted stairs, not needing to use the polished wood support bars. Every four steps was a glass lamp that lit the stairway in a dim, brown, cozy color. There was one door on each floor that lead to another apartment, their room number next to the door inscribed in black on a silver oval. The boy paid no mind to it, not interested in those that live under him, he continued his walk downstairs and a minute later walked into the small lobby.

The lobby had only a couch and on the left of the couch was the six steel and coded lock mailboxes. Opposite of the items was a desk and a young security guard behind it. The man was at the age of his early twenties, white, blond hair, and dark brown eyes. He looked tired and gave a yawn as an indicator to his appearance. His uniform consisted of white dress shirt, black tie, black pants, and black running shoes. On his chest was a police badge on his left chest pocket and on the right was his name tag reading Stan M. Wright. In front of security guard now known as Stan is a computer, some paper work, and a picture that faced him. Before he arrived Stan was focused on his computer but looked away to see the boy walking past him.

"Hey," He called out with a strong yet somewhat gentle voice, gaining the attention of the boy as he stopped mid step and turned around." Phoenix I. E. Cell, right?"

The boy nodded in agreement to his name. The boy, known as Phoenix, wondered what Stan wanted.

"Kid come here." Phoenix moved closer to his desk and Stan motioned for him to lean towards him and he continued in a whispered tone.

"Last night, I got some complaints from your neighbors about loud noises coming from your apartment. They say it sounded like an argument was going on and a bunch of other weird sounds that they couldn't describe. Is there something you might want to tell me?" Stan was staring directly in Phoenix's eyes when he shook his head no and sigh escaped his lips.

"Phoenix, you have to understand that you can't be causing trouble. I'm already in danger of losing my job since I gave an apartment to a fifteen year old kid high schooler with no parents. I don't want the others living here to come up and talk to your "parents" as that can lead to some very bad things for the both of us. So please just keep noise down to a minimum." Stan may have seem to mostly be looking out for himself and he was, but he had a soft spot for Phoenix and didn't want the boy to suffer more than he did.

"Yes sir. I'll keep it down and thanks for telling me." Phoenix said in a polite tone and bowing slightly. Stan gave a smile and leaned back in his seat.

"On the other hand, you ready to go back to high school?" The officer asked, no longer needing to whisper.

"Yes, during my time away I have completed the homework that should be enough to allow me to come in for my grade and not be held back. But I'm also scared." Phoenix said at regular volume, a small smile etched on his face.

"Scared of what?" Stan asked knowing that Phoenix had the looks of a tough guy that said to anyone who sees him that he isn't afraid of anything. Especially the eyes.

"Well, as I informed you on my arrival its my old school and I left abruptly in the middle of the school year without informing anyone, but the teachers. I don't know if my friends are still there, the same teachers, or if anyone will remember me." Phoenix looked sad as he explained his fears.

"Don't worry kid, it has been just two years. I'm pretty sure they'll look at you and their memory will click in immediately." The security guard reassured the boy and it helped as his mood brightened.

"I don't know, the eyes might make it harder." Stan nodded, understanding that his eye condition was rare. Heterochromia was what they called it.

"But thanks for the words of encouragement." The heterochromia teen said and looked at the clock on the wall behind the young security guard.

" Well I've taken enough of your time. I'll see you later in the evening." Phoenix said turning to the exit and walking away from the man.

"Have a good day kid, don't forget to keep that jacket on, suppose to be cold all day." Stan turned back to his computer and typed away after saying those words.

Phoenix grabbed the handle of the black door with a glass window, turned and pulled and stepped into the busy streets of downtown Chicago. People of all kinds passed him by and pay no mind to his presence. Phoenix took the right and followed the human traffic, his pace steady, but his eyes were the speed of light, scanning the surrounding area and for the first time since his return he spotted the train that he had heard and never seen. Phoenix knew of the train system going through a huge change over his time gone. The change included removing the normal train railway and replacing with rails that the train hung from instead of ride on. The giant rusting support beans of the old train system were replaced with thinner and somewhat stronger steel beams. The train itself moved at faster speeds than the old trains and gained a more sleek look.

"I have to ride on it one of these days." Phoenix muttered to himself as the train passed. Though he doubted he would do it anytime soon. His eyes moved again and he caught sight of the Sears Tower, or its "official" name Willis Tower, and saw the construction cranes on top of the building. The teen also heard of the ten floors being added to the tower, they were suppose to be a dozen luxury apartments with a penthouse on top. For one month you had to pay close to two hundred grand, he found out through research.

The young male's eyes continued to look for anything of interest, coursing through the large crowd as a natural, and saw something out of the ordinary, a man dressed completely in black with a heavy winter coat, hat, jeans, shoes, glasses, everything. He seemed to stand over six feet even when hunched over an ATM. Though this may not have seem out of anything unusual, Phoenix noticed something else, his hands were the only thing not covered and he was holding it over the ATM. Phoenix's eyes narrowed towards them, a trick he taught himself that made things farther away clearer for him, and he saw blue wiggly lines moving at speeds unknown towards the money machine from the hands, he took a closer look and he saw sparks flying off the machine and a second later money flowed out like a fountain. The man was quick enough that he stuffed his pockets with the bills as they came out.

Phoenix was about to yell until the man looked towards the teen. Phoenix I. E. Cell was left stock still as the man's stare seemed to control his movement. Everything went silent around him as their eyes were perfectly stuck in a stare. The man's eyes glew blue under the black lens and a toothy grin formed as he pointed his tan index finger at Phoenix.

"Kid watch out!" A random pedestrian called out and said boy snapped out of his starring and the city sound filled his ears. Phoenix turned around, noticing he was in the middle of the street, and saw a speeding truck heading his way, the driver seeming oblivious to the boy and didn't slow down. The young man did nothing but stare as it approached, he even didn't seem scared in the least. That was the image he showed on the outside, but inside was a different feeling

"Okay, Phoenix, a speeding truck that is minutes away is heading your way, its certain death coming towards you. Why aren't you moving!?" Phoenix didn't know why but he couldn't move and glanced down to see that his feet were in the street!

"What the hell, how did my feet get stuck under it!" The memory of the man came into his head. The high schooler turned back to where the man dressed in black was and saw no one fitting his appearance.

"He did this, I know he did, he's just like me!" Phoenix thought as he pulled his legs up harder, with no avail as his feet remained at the spot with death coming closer, only a minute before impact the boy noticed.

"I have to use it." Many eyes were on him. The people too scared to help him, some were yelling for him to move, but they were unaware to his current problem. He didn't want them to see him. If they saw him the next day and asked questions, or someone was recording it and was on the web or news, so many things would go wrong. The truck was nearly upon him and after one more thought, the internal argument came to an end.

"Please, anyone looking at me, don't remember what you see." Phoenix muttered quickly as he closed his eyes and focused. He remembered from his training to tense his muscles and think of the place he wanted to be, remember the place he wanted to be. He felt the surge of energy go through his very veins and he pushed it outward. Seconds before the truck hit, Phoenix disappeared. Leaving two holes the size of ankles in the asphalt.