Origins

9 1 5

Success can be quite satisfying. There is nothing quite like earning an A on an exam you studied extremely hard for, or earning that promotion you had been working years on, or finally scoring that touchdown after weeks of training. Succeeding in one's goals gives off a beautiful concoction of pride, joy, and confidence. It's fascinating how being successful can lift one's spirits on a dreadful day. Your alarm went off an hour early, you spilled cereal on your favorite shirt, traffic was terrible, and you were nearly late, but you finally beat your time on your race today. That success made this initially bad day into a good one.

The Thawne family was also successful. They were a family full of geniuses and innovative thinkers. They had been in the forefront of scientific advancement for decades. Their achievements had bought them extravagant mansions, delicious food, brand-new technology, and numerous fancy cars. However, this success did not give them that beautiful concoction of pride, joy, and confidence, instead, it left them empty and bitter.

A young, sandy blond-haired boy raced down the marble stairs excitedly. He rushed across the matching marble floor and zoomed into the kitchen. Silver metal glared in his vision, and he barely dodged the tray of breakfast items the butler carrying.

"Eobard, slow down," his mother chided. Eowyn Thawne was no older than thirty, but her dark, cherry hair had already begun to grow gray on the sides.

"My apologies, mother," he said with a beaming smile.

Her hard expression loosened a bit. "Happy birthday, E."

His smile grew. "Thanks, mother! I can't wait for the party! Everyone's so excited to come! Everyone has been talking about it - even the teachers!!"

"But remember the party isn't until after you've completed your studies," a darker voice said. Eobard's father, Oberon Thawne, gracefully walked into the room like a king walking into his court. He stood proudly and walked at a nonchalant pace as if everyone had the time - and patience - to wait on him.

The mood immediately dampened. Eowyn shifted her attention to her coffee cup.

"Yes, father," Eobard replied glumly.

Oberon studied his son coldly as if he were observing monkeys at a zoo. He glanced at the clock. "You need to leave for school."

Eobard looked at the clock. "But school doesn't start for two hours!!"

"Don't speak back to me, boy! You will do as you're told. You will get nowhere if you don't work hard. Showing up early proves you are ready to learn and have more dedication than your peers."

"But, Father," Eobard tried, "the school doesn't even open until-"

"Do not make me repeat myself, Eobard!"

Silence.

Eobard glanced at Eowyn, but she was still staring at her coffee. She hadn't even taken a drink since his father entered the room. Eobard sighed and grabbed his backpack and slung it on his shoulder. He looked back at his father. Oberon stared back at him with hard, dark blue eyes. He gave his son a slight nod. His seal of approval. Eobard turned to the door and grimaced. The family butler opened the door for him on his way out.

The sun hadn't even risen above the horizon. The east glowed a peachy orange while the west remained a dark blue. The cold, spring air lingered around him as he briskly made his way to school. His father made him leave so early the buses weren't even operating yet. If only he could get there faster. If only he was a speedster like the Flash.

Everyone knew who the Flash was. He was one of the most renowned heroes of all time. His heroics had been praised for centuries, and he still stood as an emblem of hope and justice. Eobard admired the Flash. He was strong, courageous, and a beacon of light in a dark world. Of course, everyone also admired the Flash. Eobard knew it was wrong, but he hoped he would have the chance to meet the Flash in person because of his family's distinguished social status and accomplishments. But he knew it was wishful thinking. Besides, you shouldn't meet your heroes, right?

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