Transformers: Sparky

Chapter 1

"Look, we'll tell you when you're older. But right now, you're just a kid. It's something you just-"

"-Can't deal with!" I interrupted. What is there to deal with? Why can't you just spit it out?!

Dan pinched the bridge of his nose, the dark circles under his eyes growing by the second. What was his damage? Why was he getting annoyed when I was the one stuck here; can't even leave to buy solder wire like a normal human!

"That's not it! You know it isn't! This is because we want the best for you and not knowing is the best!"

I stamped my foot, hunching over not wanting to look at him. I'm not dealing with this shit anymore!

Huffing loudly, I really hated how this made me feel, I was so sick of it, so I stormed off. My heart was pounding, my head was light and fuzzy from all the anger I was feeling.

Truth was, I just wanted to understand; I didn't want to feel so pissed off, but the adults made it so damn hard. All I wanted was a simple answer.

I wanted to know the reason- The real reason. Because 'being taken away' just didn't cut it anymore, maybe when I was five, but not now.

Who was gonna take me away? Seriously who? I didn't know anyone else, nobody else knew me, I'd spent all my life in this forest.

Where did I even come from?

I kicked the occasional stone as I trudged towards the workshop, the big old block of concrete that made up the building wasn't anything special, not with its rusted garage doors or the main hub where we did most of our auto repairs. We were lucky if it didn't flood every winter or turn into an ice cube.

I sometimes wondered what normal people lived like, probably not like me. I bet they didn't get woken up by a drill every morning, if it wasn't the drill then it was Russ forgetting to lower the car lift enough.

I mean I had seen people on TV; however Dan was adamant that those people's lives weren't very realistic, it was played up for drama and humour. Not that Dan had any clue what normal was anyway, he lived in a garage in the woods and ate dry cereal like a packet of chips.

I spotted Steve: he was lent against the wall, clipboard in hand, most likely running the numbers for this month. A couple of cars sat to the side of the workshop where he stood, all repaired and ready for pick up.

"Hey, Sparky. You have another slanging match with Dan?" Wonderful, he's sticking his nose into other people's business as per usual.

Steve was Dan's Nephew; His mother was killed in a car accident when he was fifteen, so he got taken in and taught how to repair cars to earn his keep. Admittedly, he's pretty shit at the job. He just doesn't have the brain for it. Now running the numbers, taking calls and basically running the entire business was what he was really good at.

He's a nice guy, late twenties, tall blond, built like a twig. His face kinda reminds me of a cat, what with the big green eyes, sly smile and the fact that he's knocked over a cupboard to piss off Russ. Honestly, I can't blame him for that.

He turned towards me, eyebrow raised as I shrugged off his question, instead hopping onto the bonnet of a red Ford fiesta.

"Well, once I'm done with this, you wanna help me pick out something for us to fix? Goin' to the junkyard. Doubt anyone would see you."

I nodded quietly. At least Steve is cool. He actually lets me leave the yard unlike someone dumb called Dan.

"Alright! By the way, how's that Polo going? Have you managed to fix the gearbox yet?" Steve asked. Good! A nice change of subject. I don't wanna think about the old man right now. He was still on my list of things I wanted to yell at.