I wanna try something. Not an OC like normal, but an SI. Which is a challenge believe me.



It was a funny thing, I thought as I walked through my parent's front door and looked around the empty living room of the fifty something year old house that had once belonged to my late grandparents only to find my mom and dad sitting in the dining room, at the table. Both looking contemplative while turning just enough in their seats to stare a hole through me.

Whoa. What was with the welcome wagon? I wondered as I cautiously walked through the living room and into the dining room, pausing at the door to look around and make sure that my six foot five, two hundred and sixty pound younger brother and my shorter- but no less heavy- cousin weren't waiting to ambush me like they had the last time I'd been down to see mom and dad.

The ambush hadn't ended well for my brother and cousin, nor for my parents since they had gotten dragged into it to keep my brother from breaking any of my bones while he tried to pin me down- so naturally I was feeling a bit gun shy.

"Where have you been?" My mom, fifty six/seven year old Geneva demanded. I looked at her for a second as I tried to process what I'd just been asked before bothering to answer.

"At home. Reading."

"For the past week?" Geneva asked in a slightly suspicious/disbelieving tone that yeah I will admit, stung a little bit. But I couldn't really blame her for her question after all I did have a bit of a track record for being everyone's own personal terrorist.

Again I took a moment to respond to her question as I glanced over at my dad, hoping he could give me some clue as to what mom was chomping at the bit about. "Yeah." I said slowly as she lifted a hand to her mouth and started to chew on one of her fingernails. A sign of stress that she had picked up after she had quite smoking.

"So you haven't been burning any barns, washing any cars, motorcycles, four wheelers, spray painting anyone's work vehicles hot pink then dousing them in glitter, serving pot spiked brownies to any of you're cousin's-"

"Hey that was one time and it wasn't even intentional!" I protested. Seriously, I didn't get why my mom thought I would intentionally serve a ten year old pot brownies. It wasn't my fault that the brat had taken one after I told her Nana to keep her out of them. That incident had been Shiela's fault entirely for not listening to my warning and giving in to the brat's tantrum.

My conscience was totally clear.

Besides the brownies hadn't even been mine. I'd taken them from a friend of mine whom had been expecting and had been doing my best to keep her from eating any of the drug spiked treats since it could have hurt the baby.

Mom held up her hand and silenced me as she continued to list things that I had possibly, maybe been up too in the past week. I never ceased to amaze me just how paranoid she and dad got about some shit. But really, I wasn't as bad as they made me out to be. A lot of the stuff that happened was accidental.

"So you haven't kidnapped anyone, crank called the white house, blown up any mail boxes with home made bombs-"

I rolled my eyes and corrected her, "Science projects mom. S-c-i-e-n-c-e project. And besides the mail box in question didn't belong to anyone. The house had been abandoned for as long as I can remember."

"Not the point," Mom said before taking a deep breath and started to list some more of my exploits, "Gator wrestling while on road trips-" I shook my head no. There was no force on earth that could ever get me to wrestle a gator again. EVER. Especially when I'd rather just throw my cousin to the damn thing and swim for the shore. Hell I should have thrown his sorry ass to it, he was the one who had poked the frigging thing with the stick.

The black hearted, sorry son of a bitch.

"Derailed a train?" Again I shook my head no. My mom was starting to look a mite nervous by this point and I just smiled. "Tried pulling any resurrection of dead things?"

"Are we talking like Frankenstien or zombies?"

"Frankenstien." My mom said, I smirked evilly. Now there was an idea I hadn't tried yet. And though it would be messy, I was pretty sure I could pull it off. Although if things turned nasty and the thing I brought back became a zombie I'd be sure to drop it off at a nice secure location far, far from my home. But not so far that the dying screams of others didn't warn me when it was on the move.

"So... Instead of playing twenty questions, how about you just tell me what exactly you want to know?"

"We just hadn't heard from you in a week so we got worried." My dad said gently as he got out of his chair. I tilted my head to the side a bit and considered my parents and their weirdness for a moment before sighing and asking the multi million dollar question.


"Because it's been almost a month and being the creature of habit that you are- you're due to get into some sort of trouble."

"Oh, ding-dong that's lovely!" I said, quoting the Doctor from Doctor Who.

My mom made a strangled sound in the back of her throat and glared at me before snapping, "No. It. Is. Not!"

I shrugged and stuffed my hands into my jean pockets and looked away from my mom's blue eyed stare. Whatever, I thought, irritated with her and all her questions. I was twenty seven going on twenty eight. What I did within the confines of my own home or where I happened to be- was none of her business. So why was it that her persistent questions pissed me off so much?

It was because she still treated me like I was six years old. Something that always pissed me off when I was around others.

And yeah, I knew that a large part of the reason that happened was partially because of my medical condition while another huge part of it had to do with my perception of right and wrong. While other people lived their lives in black and white, I lived in nothing but grey area's.

Now don't get me wrong. I understood the differences between right and wrong, but that didn't stop me from stepping into the grey area's whenever it suited me.

Like whenever I felt the need to stand up for myself or someone else. For instance, my cousin Adam shared a similar medical condition to my own on top of having a heart issue that could be considered critical. Certain types of stress could trigger a fatal heart attack in him. And because his perception of the world was more like that of a small child, he often gets himself into trouble.

One such incident just happened to occur while he was out one summer day riding his bicycle. A cop pulled him over and told him to get off the road or he'd shoot him. He even had the audacity to pull a gun on him. Causing Adam to show up at mom and dad's crying and shaking like a leaf. So after telling us what had happened I decided to take care of things so to speak.

Now remember what I said before about living in grey area's and my conscience being clear. There is a reason why my parents keep tabs on me.

It's because I tend to step into territory that could land me in serious trouble. Blackmail, assault, murder- I'm am very capable of all of these things under the right circumstances. And unlike other people, I don't have to be pushed very hard to wind up under those particular circumstances. Because to me once I'm in that grey area- none of those things are wrong.

After all a person abused his authority and threatened my cousin. So I responded in kind- Little did I know that that was the day that I would die.