Harris Black Hayek is me, and I was born of the union of an Iranian woman and an American soldier. Most children like to hear how their parents have met, but mine involves violence, but other than that, it is no longer a love story.

Naheed, my mother, was 22 years old and married, daughter of a wealthy family, who married an even richer man. However, still no children. At that time, the US had not yet invaded Iraq (it happened in 2003), but Iraq was already being invaded by other troops, and a squad of 25 men invaded the palace where the young Hayek lived. They sailed the coffers, and the young woman was abused by the whole platoon. This happened in 1996.

After the tragedy, she was expelled from Tehran for being dishonor to her husband for being raped. The wedding contract was undone, and she was planning to return home, but was denied the news spread to Birjand. It was there that she received the punishment of wandering through the desert, to her own fate. Naheed was pregnant shortly before suffering the abuse, but she did not know. She discovered after I was born, with 9 full months, she realized she was already pregnant a month before the invasion of her home, but she did not dare come back and tell either her family or the Hayek. Before I was born, about six months, some US troops were secretly landing in Iraq, and they lodged in the desert, with their tents burnt with sand, and Naheed tried to survive from house to house, washing clothes for food or Water. That's when a captain saw her fall to her knees.

After six months of being treated for malnutrition, dehydration, and anemia, doctors said hallelujah to the baby's miracle that it would look good, or suffer from sequels, they just had to feed the young woman and that's it. Two months later, I was born. The captain and Naheed fell in love for 7 months and decided to get married. The captain just did not expect to be as passionate as he was, and soon asked to be released from military service to be able to move to Canada, where his wife and son would be safe.

Captain Black, gave me his surname and raised me as a son, even though I had to serve in Canada at home, which still made me have a father a little absent. But the time we could get together was unconditional love. Naheed told the truth, and he said he loved her anyway, they did therapy and nothing was ever lacking. Everything went well until my father was killed by a fighter attack on the island of Newfoundland. After that, my mother went into a deep depression and we moved to Alaska. I was 5 when he died, and 3 days later there was 9/11.

With the pension we received, we still lived well, but the whole spirit of the house died, and everything went gray until my 9, 10 years. It was when something happened to me that made all the shine of my mother come back, I had burned a girl unintentionally. It was not so, when it was very cold, we would blow that hot breath in our hands, and I did mine and they got very hot, so I leaned against my friends, and this girl asked me to do it, to stay warm. It came out more than breath and it was not vomit, it was fire. She cried, I apologized and the boys found me angry, but when they asked me to do it again, I could not repeat it.

-Mom! "I flew to her armchair, where she sank all day, when she was not in the kitchen ordering the maid. I kept seeing Dad's medals. - Mom!

-Harris! She smiled whenever she saw me, for though she was the son of her first husband, she said I had the green eyes of my father, the captain. She was strong despite everything, and she would grow up to be a widow.

-Mom! I had red cheeks, and she had just been worried.

"Harris, is everything okay?" She knelt and took me by the shoulders.

-I spit fire!

She got up and locked the door behind her, and when she knelt again, there were tears in her eyes:

"Is it really, my dear?"

-It's really Mom!

Then she spat a wave of heat that lit the fireplace that was to our right. Then he put his index finger in his mouth, telling me it was a secret.

From that day, I was trained by my mother, with the news that I was of the lineage of the Hayek with the Hassad, two families of oriental dragons, and that I should respect that, and always keep secret. One day, when I was 15, I asked:

"Mom, did Dad know you were a dragon?"

-No. Our world can not be known by them.

"Not magical. - I completed it.

"And that included your father." I would not tell you if you were not like me.

At the age of 17, I could be transformed into a monster weighing more than 100 kilos, 13 meters wide, from one wing to the other. A huge beast with sharp teeth, curved claws, fire-spitting, brownish-colored. My mother was a bluish gray, slightly larger than I, also capable of spitting fire.

"You do not have the color of Hayek, nor mine. She said, coming back to be human. "It must be the weight of your name.

-What you mean?

-Black, the name of your father. Until it reaches maturity, it must be darker.

"But you said Dad was not a part of that."

"It does not matter, you carry his name. How it carries the name of Hayek, but it does not carry mine. It interferes with your shape.

"Good, I'd rather be the captain's son."

She smiled, and I knelt down so that she kissed my forehead, at age 17, was already 1.87 in height. At the moment I am 19 years and 1.96 in height and I will probably grow a little more. Draco men tend to be giants.

I was packing my bags to go to college, when Naheed began to cry:

"Mom, did not you want me to be proud of you and Dad, to go to college?" I'm going to live my life, have a job, a house and maybe a girlfriend.

She cried more and hit me in the hand:

-I want grandchildren, not to meet girlfriends! I want a daughter-in-law! I hate being alone! It seems like you're going as my husband was!

She sank into her usual chair, and I felt really bad, but I promised I'd come back to see her in the spring. She had given two little puppies for her, and she had told her maid Koi that she could bring her little daughter to make noise around the house so that Naheed would not feel so alone in such a quiet house. The dogs and the child would cheer up that house and she would hardly miss me.

When I got in the car on the way to the airport, my heart ached. He would also miss her and maybe have to buy a puppy too, but the campus would never tolerate it. But the taste of freedom outside that cottage also excited me. Dracology, Westport Galway, there goes a dragon.