Genius Child

Allen Young knows he is smarter than your average 3-year-old since the day his babysitter, 17-year-old Ann stared wide-eyed as he presented her with her finished homework. It wasn't too hard for Allen. It never was since maths was his strong suit, the answers were right there for him to pick out amongst the xs and ys. English was a little too hard for him though, but the little voice at the back of his head said otherwise. It seemed to guide his little fingers across the page as it wrote a whole new essay on Macbeth. It's a little funny since Allen hasn't ever read Macbeth, but the little voice did. Needless to say when Ann received her grades from her teachers and got all As (who even trusts a 3-year-old to do your homework), a pact was made. In exchange for all the treats he could imagine and no bedtime, Allen would do her homework.

It didn't last long though. Allen's parents quickly found out how much of a genius their little boy was and was keen to show off. On his fourth birthday, a large party was held. Allen was forced into a black suit and placed on the ground between his parents. It was a strange contrast. Allen is a cute, good-looking child with brown doe eyes, long lashes, curly black hair and two little dimples. Sandwiching him are his parents. The mother, Lauren Young gave off supermodel vibes, unlike her innocent son. She has long and curly black hair and her facial features are sharp. Blue eyes scanned greedily at the crowd. The father, on the other hand, Shawn Young, carries a mediocre look. His body was on the more chubby side, with his round head and short blond hair, lazy brown eyes gazed down at his son. Giving a small pat on Allen's shoulder, his father stepped into the crowd of guests. Lauren snapped her head towards one of the guests. Claw-like fingers gripped his small arm. Blue eyes met brown.

"Allen", his mother began, "you see that lady over there", her head nodded towards a different direction, at an older woman talking to his father, "That's headmistress Matilda, I want you to talk to her. Tell her how much of a charming young boy you are and should be attending her school in Fall".

With a small push, Allen began walking towards the older woman, not before turning back to look at his mother who was chatting happily with a younger man with brown hair. 'Tony Stark', the little voice supplied. A small part of him, deep down in his chest thrummed with excitement. 'I can't wait for him to become Iron Man', he thought. 'But what is Iron Man?', before he can ask the little voice his head pulsed in pain and a rough "Allen!", snapped him back to reality. With long strides (as long as he can get them), he reached his father's side.

"Hello!", he greeted the woman, making sure his smile was wide and eyes squinting to show how "genuinely" happy he was to see her, "My name is Allen Young, nice to meet you, Ms Matilda". His father's large hand rested on his back in approval.

"Oh well hello there Allen, I heard from your father you'll be joining us at Hillmore College this Fall."

"Yes ma'am I'm super excited to be starting school, I heard your lab includes transmission electron microscopes!"

"I'm surprised you know that dear, unfortunately, that's for high school kids" Allen's shoulders drooped down at her words, "but I'm sure I can get you special permission if you behave well in school", she said with a wink.

Allen showed off a real smile this time, teeth and all. Matilda's heart melted.

"Happy 5th birthday dear", Matilda said.

"Thank you ma'am but it's actually my 4th birthday".

"Oh, I was under the impression that you'll be starting first grade a year earlier than the rest".

"Actually", Shawn's voice cut in. "Allen will be starting school two years early".

"Isn't he too young?", Matilda scolded, starting down pitifully at the small boy.

"My son is a smart child Matilda", Shawn said defensively. "In fact, he's been solving a 17-year-old's homework since he was three, I'd say he is as smart or even smarter than Stark".

Matilda's old eyes gazed at him again this time in shock and joy?

"The second Stark", she murmured. "At my school". She gave him a wide smile and a pat on the shoulder. "I best be off, new school year, busy times", she quickly fled the scene.

Allen's father looked down at him in pride.

"Come now son. I'll introduce you to some friends of mine".

Allen felt like a doll in a glass box. His father presented him as some kind of rare item. Showing him off to all his friends and business partners.

"That's Anthony Stark", his father told him when his eyes landed on the confident man.

"Best not to anger him. He's our largest importer".

Seeing Allen's nod Shawn smiled wider.

"That's my boy, come on meet Justin Hammer".

Later that night Shawn made sure Allen knew who all these people were.

"You'll take over the company one day", his father said. "This is just the first step of many".

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Tucked under his red sheets Allen's big brown eyes gazed happily at the pile of presents on the other side of his room. On his nightstand lay a brand new calendar, it had all sorts of animals on it. Allen's parents might find it childish, "Our genius son likes rabbits or puppies?! Pathetic", but Allen loved the calendar to death. It's the closest thing he'll get to a stuffed toy. The ones he'll see when he and Ann stopped by the mall. Not being able to contain his excitement, Allen sat up and ripped off the plastic covering of the calendar and flicked through the cute pictures of the animals. Grabbing his red marker, Allen circled today's date, July 28th, and as neat as he can get, 'My birthday', was written in the small box. He flicked to the start of school and made sure to circle that day as well as all the other important days of the year.

When he reached the final page after December, the next 20 years were displayed in a neat row. A buzzing started happening in his head, but he carried on. His fingers traced the next year, 1999, then to the next, as his fingers traced further and further away the buzzing grew louder and louder and finally stopped at 2012. Avengers. He wasn't sure if that was the voice in his head or if it came from himself. Before he could even mark it, the small 2012 writing on the calendar was covered in a red splotch. Then another one. And another. Realising it came from him Allen quickly grabbed his nose and shoved tissues into it. Allen has never had a bloody nose. But the voice did. After moments of waiting the blood stopped and Allen climbed back into bed. Glowing green eyes faded back into brown and Allen soon went into a peaceful slumber. Dreaming of a kind woman who'd give him nice big hugs and teach him about all the animals in her house. He'd call her mama and she'd smile wide the sun blocking him from seeing her eyes. Her black hair blew into the wind and the golden hues of the skies wrapped him up in a warm embrace.