Wild Child
Chapter 1 There are those moments, right before the fight or flight instinct kicks in, that are just so full of adrenaline that you could spontaneously scale an above average tree in four seconds flat while grabbing all the worldly possessions that you own. Granted, this may just include a measly backpack and an old ratty raincoat, but to me that's the difference between life or death. And by life or death I mean the loss of Spiderman for without him I am nothing. As I regard what's left of my temporary camp I didn't feel depressed or frustrated at my failure at comfort, but rather anxious for the future. You see, I've been on my own for two years now, and with the unpredictable weather changes and threatening environment, gypsy like tendencies develop quickly and permanently. In 2002 on May 2, the world changed. An asteroid struck the town of Briarwood. This wasn't the first occurrence, but definitely the deadliest. It was known as Phillan's asteroid. It leaked radiation and in turn killed millions of humans in form of the Ghastranic Plague. People worldwide began catching this disease that was mistaken as the flu. There were all the same symptoms, but none survived once you began coughing blood. My family was an exception and we are trying to find more like us. More horrendous side affects of the radiation were the mutations of almost all species. Plants all of the sudden turned deadly and animals grew teeth and became carnivorous. Houses and cities are almost unrecognizable now. I was four years old when the asteroid hit and changed the entire planet. I was too young to understand the severity of the events, but by the time I was around nine years old, it was just me and my parents against the world. My mother, Catherine Hillene was a veterinarian and an amazing woman. She had issues about cleanliness and was practically OCD regarding dirt. When we had to move around because of the unpredictable weather we would break into deserted homes and she would read me classic books until I fell asleep. She taught me how to survive on tree branches and how to nurture animals. Without her, I would of died from infection long ago. My father, Scott Hillene was a marine biologist, so I guess you could say I grew up around animals all my life. He wasn't the cliché, tough, macho fatherly figure every corny movie presents. To put it frankly, he was defineatly the wimp of the family and my mom took care of of the creepy crawly things while he cooked. He taught me to always think on my feet and how to defend myself. He would collect vinyls and every time he happened to scavenge a record player we would dance away our troubles. He gave me my awesome dance skills. Then, my mom got bitten by a common Wolf Spider, but since the radiation let off by the asteroid mutated most organisms, the bite was fatal. She died three days later on St. Patrick's day when I was eleven years old. Me and my father had to bury her ourselves. Times got even more droll when we were passing through Texas along the coast and my dad caught malaria. We stayed at an local hospital for three weeks to try and get him better, but it failed. I had to burn his body in order for it to not spread. The last thing he told me was to go to America because he had heard there were more like us. My parents were all I had left and with them gone, everything just seemed impossible. I still miss them so much, but I haven't cryed since I was seven and almost lost my stuffed animal Moosi. Crying is for the weak and the weak don't survive. I promptly climb down from my tree when the flood stopped and turned towards the coast avoiding puddles and the drenching rain continued. Some would think that this would cause me to be “wise beyond my years,” but on the contary for I've definitely regressed. I think my immaturity is a self defense mechanism for realizing how truly alone I am. As a result I am completely obsessed with Spiderman and