AN: I know that some of you may have already read this part of the story. I'm in the middle of totally editing and redoing this whole story, so this part is a little different. I'm slowly working on putting up more chapters and fixing everything. If you've read this before, it's going to be very different after this, so I would suggest that you read it again. Thanks a bunch for listening (or reading) my silly author's note….

And now, without further ado…

I am Wyatt

Prologue-

Wyatt Harper stood outside the demolished house with an unreadable look on his face. He had seen things destroyed many times before. Since before he could remember he had watched his caretakers smash lamps and bottles and shoot targets for practice. Due to necessity, Wyatt was a practiced thief. He had become accustom to shielding his thoughts and feelings. He was not your ordinary 16 year old.

He had grown up at Smithy's Home for Juvenile Delinquents. When he was a little baby he was found on the doorstep, whimpering in the chilly San Francisco wind. The blonde-haired boy had no parents or relatives that he knew of. All that was left of his former life was the baby blanket he was wrapped up in--blue, with a strange symbol in one corner-- and a note with these words on it:

His name is Wyatt. Take good care of him.

He had tried for the longest time to forget those words. He tried to tell himself that it didn't matter to him where he came from. He really did try... until he realized how futile it was to say that. Every one at Smithy's wanted to get back to where they came from. None of them succeeded. Wyatt was just like all of the others. Alone.

For someone so young, he was not lacking discipline. Wyatt didn't react to the conflagration surrounding him at all. He had learned at an early age that people who were attached to things got hurt. Connections with people may bring you temporary joy, but in the end they just made you weak. Wyatt didn't do weak. He turned away from the burning house that had been his home for the last fifteen years of his life. Briefly he wondered where he would go now.

A gust of wind tousled his sandy hair. Glancing around, he made sure that no one was paying any attention to him. Seeing no one, he softly disappeared in a twinkle of clear white lights.