[ WP ] A 20 something man with a dead end job one dark and stormy night finds a crib by his door , he is tasked with raising this multi-colored-haired child and her name ... . is Mary Sue

They came at night. The light from the street lamps flashing from shined boots. The rustle of stiff uniforms hung in the humid air. It had recently rained. 
 
 The man watched as the soldiers approached each house. It was a quick, efficient exchange of words. A few questions, a check on their list. The owners knew they had nothing to fear, nothing to hide. They had good lives, productive. The man was nothing like them. 
 
 He looked down at the little girl so recently found. She was a mystery to him. Her hair flashed like a prism. Fiery red turning to an orange glow. Tendrils of yellow turning to green at the base. They reminded him of daffodils. Her locks were an iridescent blue like her eyes which flashed from indigo to violet, back to blue. She was special and she was his. 
 
 His fear tasted like pennies. Sour and dry in his mouth. They were almost to his door. He knew they would take her. He could see them outside his window. Their insignia bright on their sleeves. A silver pencil, broken in half. The Editors. 
 
 He heard the knock and wept. 

