Dreamcatcher

I would like to say that I’m normal. I’d like to say that I had a wonderful childhood with two loving parents, a dog named Lucky, and a cute little home on a hill that resembled a dollhouse. I would like to say that I’m a normal teenager in high school doing normal teenage stuff like going to home football games or dressing up like a princess and going to a school dance with my boyfriend. Yeah, I would like to say that I am normal, but I’m not. I’m anything but normal. Hell, I wasn’t normal even before I became a superhero. My childhood would have been great if we weren’t the weird rich people in a small town with a huge mansion (not really a “cute little home.”) When you live in a small farm town three hours outside of Chicago where everyone else makes under $50,000 a year, it’s always been easy for them to talk about us behind our backs. There have been many rumors such as the mob, drug dealers, assassins, and my favorite, aliens. I’d like to go into more detail of how lame the town I live in is, but this is supposed to be just an introductory page so I’ll add more about my town later. We didn’t ever have a dog named Lucky, or cat for that matter, because I’m allergic to both. I couldn’t have a bunny or ferret because they’re too messy. No lizard or snake because they’re too creepy. So, I’ve always had fish. My first pet ever was a goldfish named Taco (my father had had fish tacos for lunch before taking me to the pet store) who lived for three hours. I didn’t know at the time that fish couldn’t breathe out of water. Now the maid takes care of the expensive fish in my aquarium. High school, well it sucks, do I have to say more? Okay, I apparently have to say more. School was never my cup of tea, I mean sure I got decent enough grades and everything but I went because I had to. Most rich kids get home-schooled; I wasn’t that lucky. I never was social in school, not even in elementary school. I was always the weird rich girl who had issues. The teachers themselves would talk about me when they thought I wasn’t listening. “Therapy Thursday,” they’d whisper on days I’d have to skip recess to visit with my shrink. All of the kids made fun of me and thought it was unfair that I always had special treatment because of who I was and who my parents were. All I wanted was to be invisible, get through high school unnoticed. That didn’t work out too well. And the “loving parents” part? Well, it was true while I actually had parents. They died when I was four. Some guy shot them. I’m a typical Bruce Wayne charity case, without all of the cool gadgets; not that I really need the cool gadgets. My uncle took me in and raised me, although he really wasn’t the best at it. He was gone a lot either at work or out of town for work, which left me alone with the maid, Cindy, and the butler, Charlie (he goes by Charles, but he lets me called him Charlie.) As I got older, I’d leave the mansion and go into town by myself. I’d go to the movies or the shopping and my uncle wouldn’t even know. Not that he would care if he did know. Well that’s about it. You now know a brief introduction of myself. Don’t worry, I’ll go into a lot more detail about everything. Oh yeah, I forgot to say who I am. My name is Avery Kendall, age 15. When I’m not busy being the weird, quiet, comic book-reading, ice cream shop cashier/ sophomore at Franklin Grove High School, I kick ass and take names. I know that’s not very original, but I couldn’t think of anything else to say. I fight crime and inspire peace and justice. I am the avenger of my parents. I am Dreamcatcher.