I Am Titanium

I finish getting dressed and walk out into the living room. My younger brother sits on the rug playing with his Lego sets. Sam is a cute kid, and funny at times too. Right now Sam just made his rocket ship explode and crash into the couch. He looks up at me with big, round blue eyes; his brown hair all messed up from not being brushed.
I smile at him and he gives me a big toothy grin. Mum comes into the room wearing an apron and what I suppose is half of her muffin mixture. Her light brown hair is pulled into a ponytail and her mouth pulls into a grim line, her eyes set on the window. I turn to see where she is looking.
“Mum, why is the FBI here?” I ask her.
“They aren’t the FBI,” mum’s voice shakes. She quickly runs to Sam and picks the toddler up and grabs my arm, dragging me to her bedroom. “I knew they would come for you, I just didn’t realise how soon. Rene, no matter what happens, remember that I love you and your brother dearly,” she says as she locks her bedroom door behind us.
I was about to reply when a loud sound shakes the house. Sam screams and mum cuddles him tighter, her eyes closed. I hear voices.
“Search this house, blow it too bits for all I care, just get the boy!” barks a voice.
Mum looks at me and her blue eyes lock on mine.
“Rene, I’m so sorry,” she stars to sob, “I’m so, so sorry.”
“Mum, it’s okay. See, we’re okay,” I try to comfort her.
Crash- The bedroom door falls to the ground and guys dressed in black uniforms charge into the room. So much for my comforting.
“All right, hands on head, nobody move,” growls a scary-looking dude.
“Rene, run, we will be fine, just get out of here and save yourself,” mum says through tears.
“What?” I ask, confused.
“You are titanium. Now run.” says mum.
I turn and run. Vaulting the window I head straight for the woods. The guys in black, with guns might I add, chase after me, an ordinary 16yr old.
My feet pound the dirt as I run. I turn to see if they are still chasing me. Yep, they are.
I am titanium? What did mum mean?
“Oof!” Oh wow did that hurt! Who put that tree there?
Crack! A bullet whizzes by my head and hits a tree to my right.
Crack, Crack, Crack. Two trees splinter and some dirt to my left shoots into the air.
Suddenly I am surrounded. One man steps forward, aims at me and shoots. I close my eyes.
And then I open them and look down. The bullet ricocheted off me and is lying on the ground. I hear many men gasp.
“What is he?” asks one of the agents and a thought clicks in my head.
“I am titanium,” I whisper.

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