The Crisis Begins...

Tristan made his way from the steps of his family's townhouse as he normally did, skipping down them two at a time, to begin the short mile walk to school. The air was crisp, for a New York day, the leaves falling and pooling in the gutters, encouraging the eleven year old to walk off the sidewalk, coaxing forth a smile of bliss as the leaves crunched underfoot. In his mind, he replayed the events of the past weekend, the cool gifts he received from his friends, the "Action Man" cake his mother baked just for him.

He rounded the corner near the comic shop he and his friends treasured and noticed that it was open already. The guy behind the counter was new, though that did nothing to discourage him from walking in, intent on spending his lunch money on the new Action Comics issue. "For lunch," Tristan rationalized, "I will dine on Supes!" Superman, or "Supes" as Tristan called him was the embodiment of every underprivileged kid's dream in New York. In "Supes," Tristan found a way to escape the monotony of bullies, drugs, and gunshots that surrounded his average day.

Average, was exactly what everyone expected of this day... Average, boring, plain... When the school called home at lunch asking about Tristan's obvious absence, his mother dropped the phone in shock. Tristan had never cut school. Her first thought was her baby was hurt, or even dead... Her second, was that perhaps he was coerced into drugs. Her third, was her last...

Later that evening, groups of people stood at the police tape, watching emotionlessly as the coroner's van was loaded with Ms. Evans' body. The police have no suspects, and they had come to believing that Tristan was the victim of kidnapping. Though who, was anyone's guess. His father had died of a gunshot wound when Tristan was three. There was no other living family.

written by Curt