A Far Cry From

Prologue

I woke up in a cold sweat, panting as I attempted to recollect my scattered thoughts. I brushed my flame-like hair back gently, staring up at the metallic bar of my bunk bed as I hung upside down; a bushy, dark red tail being the only thing holding me from dropping onto the carpeting below. I blinked a couple of times before focusing on my brother sleeping on the bunk bed below mine. He was whiter than snow: every aspect of him, actually. I remember mother explaining to me that he was albino. Which meant he'd never be as dark skinned as me, or have red hair either. He remained sound asleep, eyes calmly shut while I grew more and more restless as I contemplated to myself. I wasn't used to waking up so abruptly by myself. I'm not even sure if it was due to my dream, or just the cold. I just felt chills go down my spine. I felt like I was... Being watched. I shook my head, grabbing onto the ladders to lower oneself from the bunkbed and released my tail from the cold metal bar. I silently put on a simple pyjama; navy blue in colour with a cat face on the front. Nervously glancing out of my bedroom, I rushed down a narrow hall and turned left. The entrance. The feeling of carpet left my unprotected feet, freezing marble tiles replacing such fuzzy feeling. I gently heaved the door open, pushing a tightly woven screen of tin before finally emerging outside. Frozen splinters of wind crashed at my face as the cold settled into my skin. I breathed through my mouth, curious as to the white mist extruding from it. Behind me, I closed the door with my tail-- its fur having doubled its size in all directions instinctively.

It was quiet, other than the howling wind blowing past trees and other small homes. I was proud of my birthplace. Tvedestrand. Though the smallest village in all Vilhelm; most especially compared to the giant capital, Stockholm, it was an admirable location. Resting between two of the largest mountain ranges, my home was known for its surplus of livestock thanks to farmers further off. Pridefully, I cocked my head up and marched down the empty roadway. It was too early for anyone else to be awake, so no one else could see me. And even though I had such massive pride for my village, I could never forget the threatful danger to me. I could hear the echoes and thoughts of the villagers in my head every day. They despised me. Talked about me as if I weren't like them- a Fugos.

His mother made two mistakes: him being the first one.

He's better off as a stillborn child.

He's broken the code of our lands since birth.

He's just a filthy cross-breed...

No. He's a monster.

Small walks helped me forget those thoughts. The people were just scared of change, that's all!

Right..?

My legs stiffened in place as I heard murmurs not too far away. My hands scrambled to the pockets of my pyjamas, pulling out a large red scarf and clutching it close to my face in fear. Eyes large, I hadn't dared call out for who was there. But soon enough, time had called the murmurers forth. Multiple people hidden in the dark snuck closer and closer towards me, where I only stood petrified. I hadn't realized others were also behind me, for I felt hands tightly grip my shoulders and another pair place a cloth over my mouth before a cry could escape. Tears managed to come through before I soon collapsed, dreaming of a pit of darkness and terrors I couldn't comprehend.

The dreams were lonely. I felt alone. And cold. But it was different to what I felt during my walk earlier. Discomfort replaced the fervor of home. My memories soon became all but a blur with no reasoning. I couldn't even retrace them. Moments went by with a strong bitter tinge. I had no clue who I am, or what I was in that instant. And I let the world sink into my shoulders at such realization. I became foreign to myself and I was no longer who I thought I was.

Once I woke up, I didn't know what time it was, though tinges of relief spread through me as concepts of life and thought frolicked inside my head. The sun was high up in the sky, beaming down on me. I squinted at the harsh sunlight, noticing a red scarf firmly wrapped around my wrist, as if someone placed it there intentionally. I sat up in confusion, looking down upon where I sat; a large crystal platform that seemed to have been broken into shards. An absurdly tall and burly, dark skinned man stared at me from afar, orange hair glistening like gold in the sun and forest green eyes dark and calm, shadows being cast down from his eyelids. He copied my pose to seeming perfection, which only caused me to gulp in fright. The man seemed kind though. Scars frolicked more than a murder of crows on his body, but he gave off a gentle aura towards me. I stood up. So did he. But as soon as I pinched my right earlobe, our game of charades was over. I observed his right ear and noticed he had a gap where the earlobe should've rest. A look of annoyance spread across his lips, though it faded away. He spoke before I even managed to do anything else in the time being.

"Your name is Daiko. Daiko Aristide Breigh." The large male didn't make eye contact with me, seeming to be in deep thought. I quickly noted he spoke a foreign language. I understood it though, and remembered to speak such tongue myself. Yet, I don't know where or how I got it.

"Why are you telling me this? Who are you, why are you here with me?" I quickly spoke up, although surprised at my own voice. I observed myself before realizing my pyjamas, barefootedness and a long dark red tail trailing behind me. The man ignored most of my questions.

"You're important to me, so remember this. You're a Saiyan-Human hybrid. Six years old. Born on December 21st," Hesitation filled his voice for some reason as he listed my supposed description. Stupidly, I went along with what he said.

"Your mother died when you were born and your father left you. You were born on planet Earth. And you've been raised here so far." I finally focused in on his voice. It was deep and serious, full of hesitation and sorrow. I decided to remain silent, having become too overly trusting towards the stranger. It felt right to listen to him, as if I already knew him. The ginger continued.

"I can guide you. To safety and a new home. As long as you protect yourself and learn to be independent." The ginger finally made eye contact, growing silent. Standing up, he turned away promptly and vanished into black mist. I gasped in slight terror, frantically looking around the large grassy clearing I stood in. Everything looked so calm and gentle: the grass swaying against the wind and colourful flowers dotting the land. Multiple homes were in rows beside each other at the end of the clearing. They were odd-looking, bearing triangular shaped roofs and square bodies with a series of smaller glass squares. I sighed to myself, brushing my hair back before glancing below where I woke up on. It was weird that i'd expected the glass platform to have disappeared or done something else, but it remained there. Broken.

"This place is called Earth..." I muttered to myself, hugging myself tightly. Loneliness settled in quicker than I realized. I began sobbing to myself, sitting back down on the platform and curling up.

Get up. The man I had just talked to! I heard him again, he hadn't left after all!

Don't lay there; go and get a home. Don't make yourself useless.

I sniffled anyway, looking around.

"Where are you mister? I can't see you, but I can hear you." I rubbed my eyes and cleaned my face lightly.

I'm with you. Stop looking for me and do something! He snapped; he wasn't as sympathetic as he was just minutes ago. The man already seemed irritated with me, so I got back up and walked off the platform. The grass felt wet and mushy to my feet, as if it had rained not too long ago.

"I'm sorry mister..." I gave a small hiccup before taking a deep breath and walking toward the populated neighborhood. It was loud and busy. Children around my age and older ran around gleefully, not a care in the world. I felt a pain at my chest, walking near the crowded street and rubbing my hands together. I suppose the ginger-haired man was right after all. I should act and find my proper home before I regret it. I hadn't come to realize such a lonely and dull life was my destiny. Until I spent the next ten years in a cycle of trauma, grasped by the iron grip of my own weaknesses and fear of failure.
Home was my final destination, and I was not going to give my last breath until I had felt true comfort.