Today, he had a nightmare.
It was about those children, and that mom.
The children died, and he never witnessed what happened to the mom. His dream cut off there.
Red dyed the kitchen as the sink washed the blood off of the children's limp corpses.
It was expected to have nightmares of the incident, of course.
But, it seemed like even sleep would not let him rid his mind of those thoughts.
Time flew past, and the boy finally awoke from his deep slumber.
Rhys looked around the office. There were no students, no noise outside in the halls, just the nurse.
His face was pale, dripping in sweat. He attempted to recall that dream, no, nightmare, but he only remembered mere fragments. That alone made him tremble, but a morbid curiosity urged him to try harder.
His memories of the dream were scattered. It was utterly useless to attempt to recover them, for most of it was already gone, pushed into the depths of his mind, where it'd lay for who knows how long.
Garcia noticed Rhys's distress as soon as he woke up. It was written all over his face, after all.
But she, who was emotionally constipated, did not know how to care for the young boy. Mentally, she was harsh, a far cry from her typical apathetic outer shell. And so, naturally, she was annoyed that Rhys overstayed his welcome.
But, something within her allowed it. Just this one time.
"What are you doing? School is over"
She was busy organizing all the equipment back into its place, like usual.
"I'm sorry"
Rhys felt a tad embarrassed. A sudden ring sounded from somewhere within his pocket. It was his phone.
He took out the lifeless piece of metal from his pocket and saw that his mother was calling.
He was hesitant to answer. After that ordeal, he was mentally exhausted and didn't want to deal with more. He let out a big sigh.
'If I were to answer...'
'Actually, I'll get hit regardless' He finally came to a reason.
It was unfilial of him to not answer his parent's calls- it was common courtesy. But, what was the better deal? Answering and getting scolded and beat, or not answering and getting scolded and beat?
The only difference was that the former option also gave him an additional scolding over the phone.
He simply ignored it. After the 'call' screen faded, he was met with a barrage of text messages, both old and new.
"The school told me you skipped class"
"Rhys, you're not even my son anymore"
"Should I disown you?"
"You're a liability"
It was harsh but expected. It was from his parents, after all. Although he had already come to reject his parents, he couldn't help but gulp.
The fear was faint, but it was present still.
'I really need to get over that...'
He placed the slab of metal back into his pocket as he headed out of the nurse's office, and out through the front doors.
Despite his family's wealth, he had to walk home from school. His parents said it was to "build maturity" and even if he were to ask his parents to drive him home, they'd adamantly refuse, even under normal circumstances.
All of his requests were met with denial, thus he learned not to ask.
The light breeze brushed past his hair as he took a deep breath. Why? It was because he might encounter a Powered from his school.
After school, the kids would want to let themselves loose. The stress built up within the students, whether it'd be physical, mental, or both, would be let out during these times.
While it meant video games and fun, it also meant drugs and beatings. It made Rhys develop several routes and strategies to avoid them. Was he just paranoid? Partially, yes.
Ironically, the prestigious school Rhys attended also had one of the highest drug use cases in the city. Steroids, marijuana, and nicotine galore. Only very rarely did they get expelled for it, since many students also came from wealthy families, who could afford to bribe staff.
Of course, the school itself did not let its image get tarnished. Buried under the articles of praise and adoration laid the ugly truth.
The route back home went through the more luxurious side of the city. It was populated by fancy homes and well-kept shops, suited for serving the rich and wealthy. They were almost like cake decorations. Pretty, but useless.
As Rhys navigated the streets, he passed by several such shops and homes. Despite being from a rich family like everyone else who attended the school, he was never allowed to go do things himself.
Allowance? Independence? What is that?
Physically, he was still under his parent's thumb.
But, as long as he was strong, his parents would forget all of his sins and failures.
They were just two-faced fools with a lot of money and ego.
But, if it was one thing he learned from his parents, it was that emotions are tools.
He kept his head held up high, watching for any sign of obstruction.
Back then, he got kidnapped a few times. Though, those memories were sealed away.
He didn't want to think about that.
But slowly, he could feel them creeping back.
Just...in the back of his head.