When he was five years old, Charles T. Baker received his first toy spaceship. He was fascinated with the idea of new worlds, and the concept that a handy rocket like the miniature one he held in his tiny fingers could take him there. He spent hours at a time running it through the house—his personal universe, making blastoff noises through grinning lips. Each room in the house was a designated planet, and the possibilities were endless.

When he was eight years old, he entered a box car race, and set to hard, sweaty work with his father, modeling his car after a spaceship. He spent careful time painting the red stripe on the side, and the American flag. The day of the race, he made third place. He was upset, but he vowed he would do better next year.

When Chuck was ten, he watched a movie about aliens with his mother.

"Mom, wouldn't it be so cool to meet an alien?" he exclaimed, as the credits began to roll.

"I bet it would, sweetie." His mother smiled warmly.

"I will one day." He nodded sincerely. "And I'll take some pictures and send them to you."

By the time he was thirteen, he had tons of books on anything having to do with space. From books about how spaceships were made, to the constellations in the sky, he had them all. When he turned fifteen, his parents decided he was old enough to have his own telescope. From the first time he peeked through the lens, Chuck knew that one day, he wanted to travel into the vast unknown. Night to night, he would lie on his back, and stare into the billion twinkling eyes of his one true love—space.

A short lil' drabble that was originally the introduction to another fanfiction I was working on…didn't turn out that way.
I feel bad for posting something so short, actually haha…
Well I hope it brought a smile to your face! I love the mental image of little Chuck blasting off through his house :)