WELCOME.
PLEASE ENJOY THIS STORY, AS IT IS MY FIRST EVER WATTPAD BOOK.
- - -
CHAPTER ONE ( July 2, 1996) - age seven -
PROLOGUE part one
- - -
"Ew." I look in the old box. "This is disgusting." I state, picking up a mouldy cardboard slip.
I peer closely at the discoloured picture on the front of it, shining the torch light over it. I can barely make out a face, but it looks a drawing; a comic.
My eyes trace over the whole slip and I notice some dingy handwriting on the bottom left hand corner.
'Star Spangled Man With A Plan'
My eyebrows furrow as I wonder what the hell people were thinking when they had to name this.
I take a look inside the slip and see a vinyl record, its black sleekness shining against the flashlight.
My eyes scan the rest of the basement. Boxes are piled up all over the place and the smell of damp is overwhelming.
I weave my way through the maze of boxes to the other side of the room, the slip still in my hand.
My flashlight skims over the junk until it lands on something shiny. I step towards the object and realise it is a record player; an old-fashioned phonograph.
Cool.
I gingerly touch the dusty music player, sliding my finger against it.
Well, it's dusty, but also slimy.
I pull my hand away immediately and stand up. I bend back down and gently put the record slip on the phonograph. For some reason, I feel the need to look after this stuff.
It seems like it was very important to someone, once.
"Zoey! Zoey! Where are you?!" My mother's frantic voice comes from upstairs.
I can hear the floorboards creak as she paces back and fourth, a level above me. She must be really worried, although I don't understand why.
She always paces when she's worried. I take one last look around the basement before turning and running up the stairs.
I find my mum in the kitchen. She looks at me furiously for a moment and places her hands on her hips in an angry stance.
"Zoey Redbird! Where have you been?!" She half yells, half sighs at me. "I turn my back for a second and you're already off.. Um.." she trails off, thinking of a word. A smile spreads across my face.
"Exploring!' I yell, slightly startling mum. She tries to keep a straight face, but a tired smile appears on her face.
"You're eight years old, Zoey, it's dangerous. Who knows what's in this old house." She says, shaking her head at my antics.
I sigh sadly and she shrugs, walking around a big oak table to hug me. I breathe in her scent of caramel shampoo and raspberry perfume. She puts her chin on the top of my head and holds me lovingly.
"Come on, Zoeybird, You know that this is the best we can afford right now. We have to try and make the most of it." She soothes me.
I think back to the basement, with its boxes that could contain treasures of somebody's past. I pull out of the hug and look around the kitchen and living room.
"Mum," I ask, "Who lived here before us?"
I watch as she walks over to a side table and picks up a dusty black and white picture. She wipes the glass and shows it to me.
YOU ARE READING
Childhood Hero (Captain America/Avengers Story) •EDITING•
Fanfiction[BOOK ONE IN THE CHILDHOOD HERO SERIES] - completed - Captain America was Zoey's Childhood Obsession. She grew up with only her mother there for her, who refused to tell her about her father. She's a freak. She's a genius with mad combat skills that...
