Third person
The newborn baby boy had a full head of pink hair and gorgeous grey eyes. His chubby hands grappled towards his mother's exhausted smiling face. "Basil...." She whispers without taking her eyes off of her angel, " his name will be Basil."
~~~~~
"Basil- you have to go!" His mother grasped his shoulders shakily
"They are coming!"
"Who mom!? I can protect you! Let me help!!"
She smiles sadly at her child "live a happy life my sweet boy-"
Her body collapsed to the floor in a heap, blood leaking from the corner of her mouth.
He took a shaky step backward, no tears spilling, he ran to his room.
Most people in his situation would grieve, and mourn for their lost mother- but his soul was used to this kind of thing. The best feeling to exercise here is no feeling at all.
When he could no longer stay emotionless, he resorted to anger.
He refused to be sad. He had not weeped for his deceased mother and he never will.
~~~~~~
The now 12 year old boy brushes a lock of flaming red hair from his face. He squints in the bright room angrily.
'this is gonna suck..'
He opens the door and in the room stood about 200 people with odd badges on. They all looked very strong and intimidating.
'who shit in their Cheerios' he thinks as they glare at him.
Probably thinking something like 'what is this kid doing here.' and 'is this a joke'.
He pushes through them after receiving his badge 204.
Suddenly he regrets bringing his violin as it got jostled and shoved. He's grateful it's made of some very strong wood and the strings were covered.
'stupid boomers-'