"Get lost, street rat!" a man yelled; he threw a jagged rock toward Erie.
The stone whistled past his ear, landing with a thud just a few feet before him.
Erie flinched but changed his path and began walking towards the stone.
He ignored the onlookers' whispers because, at this point, it was an everyday occurrence.
"I'm so tired of this." He murmured to himself.
He stooped, picking up the stone off the ground. It was slightly larger than the other rocks and materials scattered over the broken road.
He picked up the stone and rolled it between his hands. He was sure it would have caused more damage than a rock if that had hit him on the head.
"Hey, it's the orange-haired boy again," one of the onlookers whispered.
"Yeah, that kid is nothing but trouble," another one said. "And a no-ability freak like that needs to be dealt with."
Erie tossed the stone in his hands a few times, and without hesitation, he turned around and threw the stone back towards the merchant's stall.
It struck the stall, and a crate of fruit and vegetables tumbled over the pavement. And a few rolled down the drain underneath it.
"I'm not a street rat!" Erie shot back. His voice began to crack, and his face turned a shade darker.
The merchant's eyes flared, and a worker from the building next to the stall stormed out, his eyebrows scrunched into a V shape.
He reached out, and a glowing green whip materialized in his hand.
"You filthy street rats!" he yelled. He spun the whip over his head, creating a slashing sound in the air. " You all need to learn your place!" He screamed at the top of his lungs.
Erie saw the whip materialize, but when he tried to run, he couldn't move.
His eyes darted at the crowd around him, and the middle of his chest started to glow slightly.
"No ability! No money, no job! Just thieves!" the worker bellowed.
The whip flew, sliced towards Erie at a speed he couldn't see.
The crackling noise of the whip echoed throughout the buildings in the area, causing more pedestrians to stop what they were doing to see what was happening in the center of the town.
The whip was too fast for Erie to dodge; he tried raising his books to block the impact, but the whip had already hit Erie in the chest.
Erie immediately fell to the ground, and all his belongings were scattered across the area. He gasped for air, and the warm sensation he felt on his chest returned.
He held on to a tiny object on his person, which comforted him whenever he touched it; Erie found himself in these situations more than the average person of his status.
"What's going on out here!" a man said, running to the scene.
After he reached the area and the dust cleared, he saw a Tanned-skinned teen with orange hair and orange eyes. "Oh," the security guard whispered. "It's just the street rat again."
The security guard looked around and began to assert his authority. "Alright. Alright! We see this every day," he said casually. Keep moving; we'll take care of the situation.
The onlookers began whispering to each other and walked off the scene. They stepped on all the items that fell from his bags; a few were pictures of his mother and father.
"Wait! Wait!" Erie yelled, clenching his chest. You're stepping on my pictures!" Standing up, he walked over to the trampled items and picked them up one by one.
The last picture he picked was of him and his parents when he was a baby. "Not again," Eerie said, taking a deep breath.
A few wet marks fell on the picture he was holding nd began to fall to the ground. He wiped his face while taking a deep breath.
Staring at the picture, he whispered, "I just wanted to get home and celebrate my birthday with you two."
"Hurry, boy, I don't have all day," the security officer told Erie. "Get a move on before I take you to jail; no ability, twerp."
Shoving the last few pictures and items into his bag, he walked past the guard and started heading home, but he noticed a crowd of people standing around the wall with red alert flyers.
People were already murmuring about the flyer as I approached, and a few of them lay scattered across the pavement.
Picking one up, he began scanning the information, and one piece of urgent news stood out to him.
Mandatory Draft: All citizens sixteen and older must report for ability testing. No exceptions.
"A draft?" he accidentally yelled. "Sixteen?"
"Hey, shut up, orange orphan boy!" one of the other teens yelled towards him.
Erie looked up briefly, and a piece of paper hit Erie in the face.
"Orphan boy!" another teen laughed. "Good one, bro. Hehe!"
Crumpling the flyer, he threw it on the ground and walked away. I'll show you all one day," he whispered. In the end, we are all orphans here." He walked away from the information stand.
The itch on his chest began to resurface, and he scratched it again."
"Do we have to be at Beach City Hall in a week?" he thought. "And what's up with this ability testing? What will they do to me when they find out I don't have an ability?"
Erie's mind raced as he walked towards his home; people avoided him like a plague, walking around him, and something crossed the street when they saw him walking his path.
He spotted a group of people standing in front of the television. The "urgent news" flashed across the screen, and he saw the words "draft."
He ignored the news and headed home for the day.
Walking past many trees, eerie, I reached what seemed to be an abandoned shelter. If someone were to see it, you could tell that a lot of work has been put into the home. "Finally!" Erie stretched his arms, walking one step into his broken doorway. "Home, sweet home."
There were no rooms, only a desk, a television, and a bed. His shower and bathroom were out back. "I need to make a door one day to have a proper potty room."
"Sitting down in his chair, he pulled out photos of his parents and placed them in front of him; he then brought out a cake he made with pancake mix and put a candle on it.
"Happy birthday to me!" A small smile cracked his face, and tiny droplets of water began to form on his desk.
"It's the same every day, Mum," he whispered. "I wish you were here."
While eating, the room grew silent, and Erie noticed that his carried object began to pulse. The pulse seemed to beat in rhythm with his heartbeat. "What is this?" Erie tried to lift the small object from his chest, but it seemed frozen.
"Come on, you damned Pendant!" he tried lifting it once more. "Wait!" One more beat, and the pendant pulsed.
"What's happening? " The small pendant began pulsing rapidly along with Erie's heart, and he felt a burning sensation pulling at his chest. It felt like the pendant was trying to pierce his heart.
"This thing is trying to kill me!" he yelled. "Help!" Erie's eyes squinted as he grabbed his chest. "What is happening right now?" he cried again. "NO! NO! AGGHH!"
A bright yellow circle formed around Erie, and the circle's light engulfed the entire room. Words began to form mid-air, and trying to make out the words, he finally fell to the ground.
"So shu le gra tu aki."
"Aki?" The room finally went dark as his eyes fluttered closed.
'collaborating.'