Do you ever feel like someone is hiding something from you? Like, you know there is something that they’re not telling you. The type of hiding where they’re constantly dodging any questions that are vaguely related to the subject matter. You’ll bring it up and oh so suddenly they’ve got millions of other things to do. Anything but be in the room alone with you.

Yeah, I’m in that position. It’s something to do with my parents. I think they used to be heroes or something. Not the kind of heroes you usually read about either. Like the Great Larsgaard family, or even Meira Valor and Jesper Lecoid. You know, heroes because they changed the world in a drastic way. No, I don’t think my parents were those types of heroes. Why? Cause everyone has heard of those people. Nobody in town knows who my parents are. Maybe I’m crazy about the whole thing, it can seem a little far-fetched at times to believe it, but the fact that my parents don’t say anything just confirms they’re hiding something.

I’ve tried talking to people about it, and by people I mean my uncle, but he just laughs and says something about “The good old days” and then he’s off to go travel to who knows where. It’s the most infuriating thing ever! 

So, I’ll tell you what I did. Honestly I’m pretty proud of how I managed to sneak by with this one, guess I’m just some sort of genius or something. But my parents have this big leather bound book alright? It’s kept in the basement of our house, which guess what? I’m not allowed down there.

That wasn’t going to stop me though.

It was late at night when I began enacting the pieces of my plan. My parents had both gone to bed in the room next to me. We had said our goodnights and they’d tucked me in, but I didn’t actually fall asleep. I sat there for over an hour until their voices had turned to whispers, and then the whispers to nothing. 

I stood up carefully, the wooden planks of the house always creaked something awful when you’d step on them. I was prepared for this though! I had spent the last week making sure the noisiest ones were marked with chalk so I could avoid them. It was a little hard trying to see them, especially since the Molt Chasers that usually lit up the room had gone to bed with the flames. The moonlight was helpful though, and seeing the little scaly creatures curled up next to a lantern was always special.

So I snuck out of my room without a hitch. That part of the plan was done, unfortunately that was the easiest part. It wasn’t that I just wasn’t allowed to go into the basement, no my parents kept that part of the house under lock and key. The stairs that led down there stopped at this massive wooden door, it was almost twice as big as me! Not that I’m that tall either, but hey, even my Dad is a good head shorter than the door.

The door’s not important though! Focus, sorry, that’s for me. Where was I? Right, so we have this big door, but even more important is the big lock on the door itself. Big lock means big key. The big key is always with my dad, sometimes my mom takes it for a bit so she can go down there when he’s gone, but it’s always out of reach of me. They keep it in their room at night, high up on the shelves I’m assuming. It’s the only part of my genius plan I wasn’t able to flesh out. Wasn’t going to stop me though.

I had grabbed a stool from the kitchen, it was as big as me so carrying it all the way up the stairs took a while. Once it was at the top of the stairs though I knew it was a piece of cake from there on out. Just get it into the room, climb the shelf, grab the key, and bingo! I've literally never done anything easier in my life.

My parents are usually heavy sleepers so I wasn’t too worried about making a lot of noise. Still, I did my very best to not make a sound. It wasn’t like I was going to fall off the shelf either. The stool wasn’t the sturdiest place to keep my feet and honestly I did think that I was going to fall several times trying to reach for the key. See, I kept touching the very edge of the key and not actually grabbing it, so it got further and further from me. There were definitely a couple of words my parents didn’t want me saying that ran through my head.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

It was about an hour before I actually got the key itself and out of that room. My heart felt like it was going to literally burst right then and there. I could feel it’s thump as if it was just rattling around freely. Like when you take a marble and put it in a bowl, then shake the bowl really hard. Yeah, my heart felt like that. It felt good.

I probably looked so cool too, sneaking out of the room of a couple of heroes with their hidden key, and now I was on my way to discover their secret. 

I almost tripped walking down the stairs. I was so excited. My hands were shaking so bad I thought I was going to drop the key and ruin the whole thing for me. Somehow though I managed to calm myself for long enough to actually open the door and get into the room. I had brought the cute little Molt Chaser from my room for some light. He was curled up around my arm, beady little eyes focused on the candle in my hand. It was comforting to have him there, everything feels a lot less spooky when you have a fire-breathing dragon in the palm of your hand.

Not that I was scared though.

Seriously I wasn’t, what was there to be scared of inside the room? My parents couldn’t be keeping anything alive down here otherwise they’d have to feed it everyday, duh. Still, my heart was racing as I walked through the door.

And then I was in the room I had been trying to get into for months.

Nothing was what I expected. 

I was hoping for some cool swords or something, the stuff you usually think of when heroes are mentioned. Nah, it was just a bunch of books. Verrry impressive and suuuper spooky. Still, I was pretty much there for a book anyway. The big leather bound book I’d seen all around the house but could never actually read until a short while ago. And now that I was able to read it, oh boy was I going to read it.

It took a bit of searching around the room, but I found it on the only desk in the room. There were a bunch of other writing utensils scattered over the surface. Paper, ink, feathered pens, if it had anything to do with putting words on paper I can assure you that it was there. 

So I climbed up into the chair, a big cushioned chair that would spin you around if you shifted one way or another. It was probably the fanciest thing in the house and I felt absolutely puny in it!

But that’s all just so you can get an idea of what it looked like as I took the big book off of the desk. I had it propped up between my legs and the edge of the desk as I opened it up. It’s big leather cover gave way easily, as if it had been used a million times. I was giddy as I flipped over to the first page. The first actual page, there were a handful of notes scribbled down, it looked like my father and mothers handwriting. 

Did they write this entire thing? 

I mean, I guess it wasn’t too far-fetched of an idea. Actually it explained a lot more than it confused me. My legs were shaking, which wasn’t too good for actually reading the book but hey, fight me. I set the candle on top of the desk and the little Molt Chaser followed after it, curling up next to it as soon as it left my hands. 

Piece of shit. Leaving me by myself in that big chair. The shadows in the room were starting to creep me out so I focused back on the book. Nothing can get me if I can’t see it after all. Yeah, I couldn’t help but smile at my flawless protection methods.

And yes I can use big words like that, my mom says I’m very… she used some big word to describe what I am but I can’t think of it right now. In-telli-gent? I think that was the right word. 

See? I know what I’m doing, there wasn’t a single word in this book that I wouldn’t be able to read. Where am I going with this? I don’t know, I just wanted to brag a little bit about how amazing I am. Apparently, I got some of it from my parents. 

How do I know? The handwriting in the pages of the book matches up with every note they’ve ever written for me.

So they wrote a book about something, doesn’t prove they’re heroes. Yeah that’s right, I can hear what some of you are already thinking. I was thinking the same thing.

Until I started reading the words that were written and-

You know what, I really don't do it justice.

See for yourself.