I am going to prove the world (or at least whoever tried to convince me) wrong!

My parents and classmates are all convinced that I'm a writer and that I shouldn't make a living off of drawing or anything else, but to write books. Yes, books. I am going to make up a random stroy and see what you think. Plz don't post here- I'll make another voting topic. Yes, I know that there are already tons of stories being typed, but I have decided to prove them all wrong. Just cuz I don't like it doesn't mean I'll try my worst on the story.

Prologue

"I've done it! I've done it! The first in the entire world to complete the task!" A scientist leaned over his work, checking up and down for any flaws. "I'll be rich! I'll be famous!"

"Docter Scheviel, we've already lost the patient. We can't tell them - we can't mention this to anybody!" His assistant warned.

"But why? Why does it matter?"

"Because if anyone knows, the boy's life will be short. All of that work for nothing. If the public knows about this, they could create more and more and there would be identity crisis all over the world! Think of the lies we've told them already."

"Fine, Angela. Fine. It'll be our secret until the boy dies. I don't care if I lose my work. I'll still have the proof."

Chapter 1

"No Mom! The last thing in the world I could ever want is to spend time with you! I hate you! You are the worst parent in the world! It's your fault that Dad died!"
Shouted a boy of 12. His brown hair fell over his chocolate eyes as he glared at her, anger in his eyes.

She looked back at the boy. "Casey Friezian! Don't you blame your father's death on me! You know as well as I do that-" There was a sudden screeching of horns as the Casey's mom snapped her head forward, seeing that she had crossed into the middle of an intersection while the light was red, and there was a jolt as another car crashed into them.

Casey's head was smashed into a window that shattered because of the force. Shards of glass were stuck into his head, driving through his skull. Blood spattered onto the leather seats as the car skidded out of the intersection and smashed into the beam that held up the lights. It crashed down into the car, cutting through the top of the vehicle and barey missing his mother. Unfortuantly, the pole smashed into Casey, the weight crushing his ribs and choking him. Behind them, the lights fell to the concrete, hitting several other cars.

"Casey! No!" His mom screeched, pushing at the beam. It didn't budge, and she stopped trying. She unbuckled and climbed into the back. "Casey... Casey! Please! Please, I'm so sorry! Please still be with me!" She cried. She forgot about the car. She forgot about the fight. She forgot everything else but her son, her poor son dying right in front of her. Suddenly, she remembered her phone. Calling 911, she screamed into the device. "My son! Please! He's dying! You need to help!"

"Where are you?" The voice in the cell asked urgently.

She glanced at the pole, finding the green signs. "Meadow Lane and Cherry Street! Please, come quickly- you have to help him!"

The air buzzed with car alarms and painful moans. The setting around was filled with crashed cars and blood and glass everywhere. It was like a sad, sick nightmare of a lost child. Soon, there was a buzzing in the air. A solid, noisy buzzing. Several helicopters landed wherever they could, and ambulences filled the streets with sirens. A helicopter took Casey and his mother after hooking up the pole to another one and having it flown off of all the other cars.

By the time they reached the hospital, Casey's breathing slowed. Very, very slowly, his mind told him to breath. His mother was not allowed to enter the room because they had to clean his wounds or risk infecting them. The glass shards were removed, but resulted in the loss of blood that covered the table he had to lay on.

His vision clouded. Bright lights from the room turned into a single, even brighter light. His blood-spattered arm reached for it, but the docter's assistant lightly put it back down with a gloved hand.

"Rest, child, you must sleep." She said softly.

Chapter 2

Something stirred. Thoughts started forming. Thoughts turned into actions. Actions turned into breathing- in, out. In, out. Heart pumped and blood rushed. Eyelids split, revealing chocolate eyes.

White. Bright, flourescent light. Brown hair fell into his eyes. Casey had awakened, awakened from his slumber that felt like it had been forever. A soft face filled with tears of joy and silky brown hair leaned over him.

"My boy! It's my boy! He's alive! Thank you, Doctor Scheviel, thank you!" His mother thanked the docter repeatedly.

"Yes, well it was rather... difficult." He said. "Your boy has suffered amnesia and has no idea who you or I am. All he knows is how to speak and walk and he knows all of the basic things- kindergarten through sixth grade math, science, and the English language. He is just like every other sixth grade boy without memory of his own life- friends or family."

"That doesn't matter to me. In a way, it's good. We can start fresh- no fights."

Doctor Sheviel nodded. "It should be safe to take him home." He turned to Casey, still staring at the light. "Get up, boy. You can go home." On command, Casey sat up and stretched.

"He seems so... so untouched. No scars, no scratches." His mother observed.

"Yes, our doctors are the finest."

Casey's mom helped him to stand up. "Casey, I need you to look at me." He didn't know who he was speaking to- he assumed it was the doctor. "Casey," She said again, looking directly into his eyes.

"Am I... Casey?" He asked. His mother nodded. "I will tell you more later. You need to follow me." He blinked and followed her out the door to a rental car.


"Your name is Casey Friezian. I am your mother, Terrissa Friezian. Your father, Dennis Friezian, Died seven years ago in a bank robbery when he gave his life calling the police." Casey took it all in, studying his hands as he listened in the car on the way home. "Three weeks ago, you and I were in the car, driving to the grocery store when we... got into a fight and I took my eyes off the road for a second. We crashed into a car and then into a stoplight 's support beam. You were crushed underneath and were taken to a doctor. Since that moment, you were in a comma. You are very lucky to be alive." She finished.

"Please tell me about my friends and my school." He asked quietly.

"Your friends? Oh, you were the best of pals, you and Cyril Bradney."

"Cyril? What does he look like?"

"He has just the reddest hair anyone's ever seen and lots of freckles on his face. You and him were great buddies, I mean our families would go to Six Flags together and you loved to go to the pool and splash eachother. You also enjoyed video games and eating junk food-like most boys, I suppose."

He nodded silently. So much info he never even thought about. Of course, he'd only just woke up from sleeping. His mother turned on the radio and they listened for a while, when the music stopped and a special news report came on.

"This just in- young 12 year old Casey that we've been watching has just come out of a comma." The reporter said.

"What a lucky young soul," Said the co-anchor.

"Yes in deed, Marla. Right now he is on his way home, where officials say that several officers will be there waiting, hoping to recieve the boy and take him into custody."

"Tell me, Chad, why are they taking such a poor kid into custody?" Marla asked, to Casey's suprise. He knew what custody was- he was going to jail! His mother seemed not to notice- she was glancing around carefully.

"Well, Marla, it appears that-" Casey didn't get to hear more. He turned to radio off. He'd done nothing wrong! Why were they about to be arrested?

"Mom, we can't go home! We nee-"

"Stop this nonsense, Casey!" She said. I know it's a big deal that you just got out of comma, but you just need to calm down. See, we're here all... ready?" She was surprised to see several police cars intercept her as she entered the driveway. The cheif exited his car and came to the window of the car.

"What are you doing, officer?" She asked.

"Ma'am, Your son is under arrest."