PROLOGUE

The same, it's always the same for Keith. Rise before the sun, do your chores, get dressed, pray to a god; any god to answer your prayers. "Let not a soul awaken from my noise", Keith whispered into the dark nothing of his barren room. It was the same for the last three months. Keith is out the door, feet hitting concrete as early as he can muster himself out of bed. He hates it here with this stupid 'Conway' family and avoiding them altogether, in as many ways as possible seems like the only option.

His previous foster home consisted of a middle-aged woman, her two kids, and her husband. They, like many others, at least had the decency of allowing him to keep his hair as long as he would like. Now, his hair didn't cover his acne or his ears. The buzz cut aided only in keeping him a complete outcast. A misunderstood teenage boy amongst the crowd sporting his hood over his hair like the rest of the angsty his age.

That wasn't the problem, it was the hour he hid behind the mall after the drastic haircut. It's the tears shed over something he knew would grow back without trouble.

Just like the previous day, Keith walked the good, silent twenty minutes to his middle school. His music blared into his eardrum just as the sun was beginning to peak over the tree canopy of the trail beside the school. He thanked the trees for their convenience. The willow trees cried with the gentle breeze, their leaves and vines swinging and swaying in the wind as if they were waving at someone. Keith's eyes shifted course from the pebble he was kicking to the different shades of green to his right. He stops for only a second; admiring.

He blinks slowly, the wind pushing his hood right off of his head. Without a second thought, he edged his fingers alongside the curve of the hood until it lay flat on the crown of his head. He kept walking.

School tended to go by quickly. He enjoyed light reading after class, mostly in the library. That was his escape from his foster home. He'd pretend he had clubs and meetings to attend, all finishing at around six. Today was no different. Even the books felt dull and lifeless in his hands, the pages worn and dog-eared at every other page.

Keith sighs, closing the book abruptly.

"Keith," The librarian starts, "You finished early?"

He can't even muster a smile, his eyes slowly drifting to the floor. The corner of his lips quiver and by the time he meets her gaze, he's ready to answer her. "I just need a break. I'll go outside for a bit. Save me some cookies?". The librarian nods slowly, her smile just as fierce and unwavering as the first time they talked. That was a month ago, he recalls.

The moment he stands, he respectfully takes his headphones out, leaving them on the table. He stops himself from walking on but decides against sharing another word.

In the next few moments, he would see something he thought he had stepped away from since Juvie. The big cat eats the mouse, the fox catches the cat, and the wolf will tear it apart with sharp fangs... that's normal. That's how life tends to go, but for humans to behave in an animalistic manner. Surely, a weak pair of adolescent creatures... humans, had enough understanding and insight not to pick on the weaker without a need or reason.

Just outside the library, feet dragging, hands in pockets, he watched the scene unfold. The climate was the same as yesterday, and the humid air was the same as yesterday. his face contorts in disgust.

"Your sissy coming to get you~"

"She's hot. treats you like she's your mom! tell her to make you something to eat, you're skinny as shit!"

"Look at him!" One of the kids prods at the tan boy's arm.

"Stop, you look the same"

Keith watched on, side-eyeing without stepping foot into the conversation. He didn't want to. He wouldn't unless he had to. Now, there was regret about leaving his headphones. There was only hope that his mind would do all of the filtering for him instead. He takes a seat by the library door, gently hitting his head against the uneven wall behind himself.

"What did you say?!"

"You think we' joking or som'?"

The inside of my eyelids look fantastic, Keith thought, his eyes shutting even tighter as he forced his shoulders back, a slight pain from their position. Being invisible was the greatest gift and the worst of tragedies and he was welcoming it with open arms regardless. There is still hope for the earth to eat him, to break beneath his feet and swallow him whole, away from the situation and the prying eyes of his foster parents... the entire foster care system and its wretched rules.

"No, but... I-"

"SUck it, fucker. Try that again!"

"See what happens the next time you open your stupid mouth. You better give us what we ask for next time. We... want... pictures of your whore sister."

Keith's lips stretched into a thin line, his palms sweaty. The next few seconds... maybe minutes became a blur. Before he had even realized it, his feet dragged across the concrete, his shoes sloshing and slashing by the friction his toes made against the hard material. His vision tunneled and he forgot to look at who his fists were meeting, hard. He hit with as much force as his slim body could endure the backlash. He didn't stop at one, though. Even his inner demons fought to hand his body back to him, to help him regain a semblance of the quiet boy he had decided to become since leaving Juvie but that didn't seem possible in this instant. He grunts as he sends the kid to the floor with a shove.

Not stopping to breathe, he drops himself on top of this bigger boy, reeling his arm back for another punch.

"STOP!", a smaller voice responds to his actions, the other bully paralyzed. Keith hadn't even heard.

He sent another punch aimed at the bully's face, now covered by arms, a cowardly expression not as well hidden. He thrived on the look... the competence and the self-assurance disintegrating in an instant.

Warm hands pull his head back, nails digging into his skin. "AH-", Keith yelps, his eyes flying up to meet the desperate eyes of another boy.... Skinny... tan skin and freckles. That's all he had time to see before he's flung back and there is blood beneath him. Everyone flees... it's just him, now... he sighs, pulling his hood over his lack of hair.

"Let me help. Are you okay?" The voice sends Keith into a panic. He flinched and sat up with ready fists. "Whoa... hey... thank you". The silence lingered, penetrating his skin. The very silence from his soul decimated his anger in an instant.

For the price he'd pay for these rash actions, Keith would be happy to say he didn't stand by and do nothing. This would be a turning point, even if he didn't know it. Maybe it was the genuine thanks or the look of gratitude spoken in silence by a soft smile and a steady hand, offering him aid. This could be a start for something wonderful. Something raw and true. Keith took the boy's hand, pulling himself up with little to no support of this boy's extended hand. "Mhm".

The boy nods, sighing. He rummages through a full backpack for a napkin that he tears in half and hands to Keith. He nods, understanding the interaction in its entirety. He holds the napkin to his slashed skin.

"Sorry about that... I thought you'd kill him".

Silence.

"I would've if there were no consequences."

"Dude..."

Keith looks down, his face relaxing. There were no leftover feelings after actions were done. So? Would it have been so bad to get rid of that bully? Would the world not be better? Cleaner? The questions linger and taint his hands with a deep shade of vermilion.

"Don't hesitate to find me if they keep being... mean", his hands remove the napkin and place the dampness into his pocket to throw away later. the fuzzy inside of his hoodie starts to feel comforting, the only warmth for miles, despite the sweat sliding down his forehead after the scene. Call him a masochist but the burning sensation of the cut and the throbbing knuckles made him feel better about what he had done. "Alright?".

"mhm"...

Keith turns around slowly, passing by a trashcan and seizing the opportunity to throw away the napkin... and look back for just a second. His heart ached as soon as he saw the blue eyes gaze back at him, wide and confused... admiring. his eyes jerked widely open, his posture straightening. he dared not move as their eyes remained locked one on the other. stardust loitered the scene like the awe would freeze both of them in place perpetually. Keith was the first to pull away, eager to dismiss the emotion like it had been nothing.

Keith keeps walking back into the library, ignoring the quiet "wait" uttered by the taller, slim, tan boy. After grabbing his headphones inconspicuously along with a vanilla chip cookie, hiding his face from the librarian, he hid alongside the bookshelves until he was safely able to find the exit.

The trek back to the house always appeared quicker... shorter. It was always the same, but for reasons unbeknownst to him, today quickly became the slowest walk he had or would ever take in his fourteen years of life, to the best of his knowledge at the moment. Even the wind was quiet, eerily silent, like everything was wrong and upside down.

Maybe he should listen to that gut feeling... run away... find a way to his birth place so that he might reunite with lost family. That's what he really wanted, anyways. That's the first place they'd look for him; he knew that much.

He stopped, only to realize that the wind was picking up. His eyes trailed to the tree tops and the Willow branches swaying softly, pelted by the oncoming rain. Rain he hadn't noticed until a few moments prior due to the hood he sported over his head, protecting him from the drizzle. It wasn't a drizzle for long. It was a fast, ready type of rain, rain. The type that shook trees and shifted the soil, previously stuck perfectly still. It would be pretty in the morning after, he realized. Now... Now it was not. Not even a little. Not even a lot.

There was a drop of water sliding down his face before the rain had even hit it, he realized. Maybe it was a glitch in the system. The glitch is the churning sensation in his stomach that aches and pulls at him, hoping he'd contract himself onto the floor to keep it away. The glitch might even be the ringing in his ears or the inner thoughts that plagued his mind. The glitch might be his white knuckles at his sides from keeping his hand tightly in a fist since earlier.

"FUUUUCK!" He howled, the wind slipping his hood right off. This might be his only chance to express himself openly in the next 4 years of his life. At least until he had a stable income. at least until he'd have enough saved to afford a therapist or otherwise... find someone he trusted enough to tell them what had happened. what he had and will continue to endure. Maybe no one would understand him. Not yet, but they would, he was sure of it.

His face scrunched as his face met the sky with anger and impotence, the rain perfectly hid the salty water dripping from his eyes. He smiled softly like he hadn't in a long while.

He made it back to the house, drenched and packed up his things like he knew he was leaving. He knew. His subconscious knew.