Chapter Text
Hello, my name is Abed.
The small boy tilts his head and purses his lips.
He can do better than that.
He looks up at his slightly creased Batman poster.
Got it.
Hello, my name is Abed, superhero in training.
Perfect.
Then again, it’s always a good thing to make sure your audience isn’t confused.
I’m not really a superhero, I can’t fly or go super fast or see through walls. I wish I could though.
Good, that’s cleared up.
Now for some background info.
I am 8 years old and I live in Colorado. I like video games, comic books, and wish I had a lightsaber. Nobody picks on people with lightsabers.
My dad works at a place that sells falafull falafel, which is a snack that feels weird on my tongue, but is still better than spinach. Blech!
He doodles a leaf in the margins of the lined paper, and scribbles an angry X over it.
I like wearing soft clothes, and kids at school tell me I look like a shrimp. I think they’re wrong. My skin is brown, and shrimp are pink. Can you imagine a PERSON with pink skin?
My daily routeen routine is waking up, eating breakfast, going to school, doing homework, and watching TV. I also go to mosque once a week. Dad says I should pay more attention during prayer, but it’s hard! There is no TV at the mosque.
Here are some things I like:
DC Comics
LEGO
Nicktoons
My Gameboy
Here are some things I DON’T like:
School
Doctors
Cooties!!!
Loud noises
Tight hugs from aunties and uncles
Okay, enough info. Time for the plot.
Me and my dad are going to visit some family, and it is scary.
It is scary because they are family from my mom’s side.
I don’t think they like me very much.
One thing before I stop writing: I saw a trailer for the movie Scream on the television while flipping through channels, which is a movie about teenageers teenagers who keep getting killed by a guy in a Halloween costume. Dad says I’m not allowed to watch it UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES.
The trailer says it’s not coming out until December. Maybe I’ll be old enough to watch it then?
This is Abed, age 8, signing off.
Abed closes the blue composition book and fiddles with the Rugrats pencil in his hand.
Things make slightly more sense to him now.