“Great Heritage”

Everyone at some point in their lives worship their parents.
Mostly during their childhood, and then slowly start to realize that their parents aren’t perfect, they are also normal, they have faults.
But pride for most parents remains in us.
There are exceptions, for not everyone can be a good parent, but regardless, parents if decent, are a major influence on everyone.
My parents were… different.
While everyone’s first memory of their parents is something cute like: “he was singing me some songs”, “she read me stories”, “She cooked me my favorite food”, “we played on the console”, “he fell over while trying to rush to me” and so on…
My first memory of my parents is…peculiar…
The first memory I have with my father, was when I was 7, and he came to visit me.
He took me to the skies, plucking stars and eating them as snacks, he carried me on his shoulders.
I saw galaxies warp around him, like subjects bowing to a king.
The first memory I have with my mother, was when I was 10, and she came to visit.
She took me to another planet, a desert one, and she clapped and the sand flourished, turning into water seeping deep into the ground.
Soon, everything around us turned green, and blue, and brown, and black and yellow.
Forests sprouted out, with flowers and trees of colors I don’t know the name of.
We had a picnic there, and my mom casually created a living bird from a napkin.
As a side note, I had my first memories with them so late, because I was raised by my grandparents.
My grandparents were normal humans, or at least as normal one famous doctor and one famous architect can get.
They were quite the quirky individuals, but were lovable.
I, as the daughter, and granddaughter of such individuals, could have been said to have a great heritage…
But…as I grew up, it wasn’t like that.
Yes, I was a bit more athletic than most.
And yes, I was a bit smarter than those twice my age.
But compared to the talents of my parents….it was nothing.
Boys and girls buzzed around me, so my looks weren’t bad either, but once again.
Greater the expectations, greater the disappointment.
Why am I writing these things now?
Why am I so sure that I haven’t hallucinated things?
And why I am so cocky, prideful yet trying to write down myself?
Well, I am not prideful, I am stating facts, if my grandparents weren’t adamant against skipping classes, tomorrow I would start my Doctorate and not High School.
And compared to what I’ve seen during the few visits my parents made…I am but a speckle of dust.
Why am I sure I haven’t hallucinated things?
The necklace I am wearing is a white dwarf star, my earing is taken from the depths of earth, and crafted by hand.
I have a cat that hasn’t aged, in these 10 years, and has 3 tails, but only my grandparents, parents and I can see the other tails.
And most importantly, gut feelings.
Gotta trust them.
And lastly…as I said…I am starting High School tomorrow.
And if I learnt anything from reading and watching stuff…is that girls like me…don’t have it easy in high school…with or without strange parents.
I don’t know if I am a deity offspring, an alien, some kind of spirit, fae or whatever else.
I don’t know if evil and good factions exist.
I don’t know why my parents left me here…
I don’t know anything, and I don’t know if I will ever get powers…
But if I do get powers…it will because some random stuff happening in high school…
And if books are accurate, than I might meet others like me…
So, I write these lines to calm down.
Great Heritage is what my grandparents often call what I’ve gotten from my parents…hopefully it’s nothing too troublesome…

Published by omnithenerva

Wannabe fiction writer. In love with mythology, and fantasy themes.

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