Flashette(A Barry Allen/Flash Fanfiction)

1- My Story

     I used to have a normal life, and it was perfect. I lived with two loving parents in an unbroken home. I just started my first year of middle school, and was having an easy time transitioning. My parents both had steady jobs, and gave me more love than I could ever ask for. I know I was young, but at that point I never wanted my life to change. I wanted it to be this way forever.
One man came into my life suddenly and changed it for what I felt was the worst. Little did I know it would be for the better. His name was the "Reverse Flash".
    That night, I never fully understood what happened. I was so young and everything happened so fast, it was hard to keep up. I was 11, and one night I woke to commotion in my living room. When I went downstairs to check it out, my parents were in the center of 3 flashes of light, begging and pleading to be released. The look of fear on my mother's eyes will be one I will never forget. When my father saw me coming down the stairs, he yelled for me to leave and go back to my room. There was no way in hell I would just walk away, so I didn't. As my parents fought for their breath, I reached the end of the stairs and grabbed the phone off the table to call the police.
     Before they could pickup, I was transported quickly and ended up 5 blocks away from my home. I was so confused as to how I got there, especially so fast. I had so many unanswered questions. One of the biggest that night being the strange figure whose back was turned to me among the crackling leaves and dark street. I couldn't help but stare as I tried making sense of what happened. Little bolts of lightning radiated from the back of the hot pink figure. I was beyond blown away. She looked like something out of the comic books I would read.
     The figure suddenly turned around and approached me slowly. I didn't know what to do. I found myself frozen and unable to move. The figure then crouched down cautiously, and I remained still. It placed its hands on my shoulders slowly.
     "Chloe, stay here," the figure spoke, sternly. I studied the front of the figure. It wore a mask, so I couldn't see it's face clearly. But one distinct feature I remember still was the lightning bolt emblem it wore on its chest. "Don't move," the figure spoke again, this time a voice full of concern. Before I could say or do anything else, the figure was gone in a flash of pink and rushing wind, leaving me alone in the middle of the Central City streets.
     I then thought about the figures words, and how I had to stay. But after everything I experienced, I wasn't going to sit around. My parents were in trouble, and I couldn't ignore that.
I ran home as fast as my little legs could, and I stood for a moment to catch my breath in-front if my house. Red and blue lights flashed all around, and police officers were scattered around my house. I slowly approached the scene, my mind racing. All I needed to know was if my parents were okay.
     When I tried to enter my house, I was pushed back by officers. I heard phrases such as "crime scene", and "open investigation". No matter how hard I tried to push my way past, I wasn't allowed in. Despite telling officers it was my home, I still wasn't allowed in. I needed to know answers, so I snuck my way in. I stepped back from the crowd of concerned neighbors and crept slowly to my neighbors back yard. Sneaking through the darkness, I crossed over to my back yard through the trees that separated the two properties. I opened the gate quietly to my backyard and followed behind a large group of officers up to my back door.
After slipping through the small space in the sliding glass door, I ran into my living room where I last saw my parents. A large sheet covered the majority of the rug. I walked up to it slowly and knelt down beside it. I peeled back the corner slowly to reveal and face pale as a ghost that I recognized: my mother. I peeled back the sheet further to see her hands on her chest, gripping loosely a knife that stuck out of it. My hand covered my mouth and I stumbled back.
     "Mom..." I spoke, tears filling my eyes. I threw the cover back over her head and tried to process everything. She was gone... I then looked over to see another sheet a few feet away... "Dad..." I thought. I didn't even have to look. I could already tell he was gone, too. My head fell in my hands and I sobbed. I couldn't imagine my life without my parents. Where would I go? Where would I live?
       "What is she doing here?" I heard from behind. I turned around quickly to see a policeman pointing at me. He took a step forward and I bolted. I ran up the stairs quickly, trying to get to the one place where I felt safe in that moment. Halfway up the stairs, arms wrapped around my waist, and I was lifted off the ground. I began kicking and screaming, trying to get myself out of the officer's grasp. He carried me downstairs, despite my resistance.
"Must be the daughter. Get her out of here!".
      "MOM!" I yelled and cried as I passed her body once again, continuing to resist. I gripped the frame of my front door at one last attempt to remain in my home. The officer fought against my resistance, and successfully pushed through the doorway. I was carried to the curb and placed in the back of a cop car. Without hesitation, the car drove away. I placed my hand up to the window as I watched more policemen enter my house. I began to cry and plead in the back seat of the cop car as I struggled to accept the things I had seen.
     My life took a dark turn after my parents' death. It was hard growing up without them because we were so close. Everything I thought about or said lead back to them, and I felt as if the pain was a never ending cycle. I went to therapy every week to try and help me with my situation, but it wasn't helping. After the first few weeks, I couldn't even hear the words "mom" or "dad" without breaking down.
    Since I was so young, I couldn't make decisions for myself, and no one believed anything I said. I told countless officers about the figure that saved me, and that there were three of these figures chasing each other in my living room. I felt stupid when the officers laughed, but I knew what I saw. It didn't help that I was the only witness.
      The police eventually concluded that all evidence of death was unknown, and that the events I experienced required me to receive: "psychiatric assistance".  I knew I didn't need this. There was one police officer who felt the same. He listened to my stories and understood them. He was the one who made the psychiatric mumbo-jumbo go away. His name was Joe West. He saved me after a few nights from the station. Joe convinced the commanding officer who was going to take me away that I wasn't insane. Thanks to Joe, I didn't go to a psychiatric facility. Instead, he fought for me, and I was put in the foster care system. Being around Joe gave me a sense of comfort, though I didn't really know him that well. What I did know was that my final court hearing wasn't  the last I'd see of him.
     Every foster home I was sent to brought me back, due to my sneaking out and causing trouble. I wouldn't have purposely caused trouble if I didn't want to be there! Besides, my parents' murder story didn't sit too well with others either. People thought I brought bad karma.
     As the days went on, I dreaded my new life. I wanted to get out and explore, but I was stuck. I was transferred to a new school, and lost everything I gained from living with my parents. But despite everything that had happened, I made a single friend that year. This young boy was shunned by the school and society as well. He had too, lost a part of his family from a similar incident. His name was Barry Allen.
     I looked forward to school after that because of Barry. He made my days brighter, and we helped each other to forget. We went to every class together, and sat next to eachother at lunch every day. We knew everything about each other, and our sibling bond grew even stronger.
     Soon enough, my life took another drastic turn. I was called down to the front desk of my foster care unit after being returned a few days earlier. I found out I was going to yet another family. I packed up the little amount of belongings I had and trudged down the stairs to the lobby to greet my new family.
      I looked up from the last step to see a familiar face standing by the front door. The small smile on his face caused me to smile even wider. Standing in front of me was the man I recognized as the police officer, Joe, that helped me. Next to him stood Barry, my new school best friend, and a girl I recognized from school, named Iris. The officer crouched down, and I ran to him. I hugged him tightly and cried into his shoulder. He tightened his grip on me as I felt two more sets of arms wrap around us. I had never been more glad to see someone in my life. I felt safe with him. Though I barely knew Joe, I knew everything was going to be okay.
     And it was. Growing up in Joe's house was the best experience i've ever had. Not to mention, Barry and Iris were the best friends anyone could ask for. Joe was truly the most amazing person I've ever met. No one could replace my parents' memory, but he was a close second.
     Joe watched me grow, and celebrated that growth in every way he could. He cheered me up when I was sad, and he always knew what to say. He accepted me for who I was, despite my past. He helped me through all the bullies I faced growing up, and he shaped me into the best form of myself I could be. I was the luckiest person in the world to have a dad like Joe West.
    Today, I have grown into a beautiful and intelligent 25 year old woman. I was out of college, and worked along my lifelong best friend Barry Allen as a CSI at the "Central City Police Department". Joe worked here with us as the lead Detective. Iris has remained my best friend, and works with CCPD as a reporter for "Central City Picture News." Her boyfriend, Eddie, is Joe's partner, and gets on my nerves from time to time.
    14 years ago I was in a dark place, and I never want to go back. I was finally happy, and my life couldn't have been more perfect. Everything that I had been working up to changed the night of the Particle Accelerator explosion.