**Lith POV**
We were basically neighbors, so our journey home was the same. David and Howin lived right beside each other, and I lived three houses down from David's. Coming from school in the direction that we did, Howin's house was the first, so he said his goodbyes and then scrambled into his house.
It was always surprising to see Howin's skinny, five-foot-four figure move so quickly. Even more surprising was how his black-rimmed glasses didn't fall off his face as he moved. He slammed his door so fast that it probably didn't even have time to realize that it was open.
"See how fast he left?
David shivered. "I don't even want to think about it."
We stopped walking in front of Howin's house. If we wanted to finish a conversation, we had to avoid letting David's mother know that he wasn't moving as quickly as he could to get home. She was always watching from somewhere inside his house.
"I've said this before, and I mean no offense, but your mom is insane."
"You don't gotta tell me that. I know that more than all of you," responded David.
My mom did some crazy stuff, but she did none of the things that David's mom would do. It was like she thought that the world was trying to kill her baby boy. Oh, and she was also racist towards every race except for black people, which was why David was never allowed to spend too much time at Howin's or Wynn's house.
She thought that Howin's family would feed her son cats and dogs and that Wynn's family would treat him like garbage for being black. None of this was based on truth: Wynn's family wasn't racist, just sexist, and if Howin ever fed me a dog, I wouldn't know, but then again, I don't think that either of those is a solid point.
"Ever since what happened to Adrian, and with how so many other people have just been vanishing, she's gotten even worse. I didn't even know that she could become even more protective."
I noticed how his eyes averted mine when he mentioned Adrian, but it was natural that he wouldn't say something like that with too much confidence.
"I mean... I guess now she has a point to doing all of this. If people are disappearing from their bedrooms, then it makes sense to keep a close eye on you."
David rolled his eyes. "Yeah?" He asked sarcastically, "I don't see any of your moms doing this. "
"It just means that she cares for her wittle baby boy."
"You're the little one. I'm taller than you, and Howin."
"Everyone is taller than Howin, and you're like an inch or two taller."
For the longest time, David, Howin, and I were around the same height. David shot up like seven inches through the years and I only grew around six. Howin is still the same height as he always was, to his dismay.
David Vardo is a thin, almond-complexioned guy. His mother always made him keep his black hair cut extremely short, so it kind of looked like he was bald from a distance. Everything except his height, he got from Mrs. Vardo: large, black, emotive eyes; a straight nose; thin lips. I could go on but David doesn't like it when I speak too much about his mother.
We stood there for around thirty minutes, talking about random stuff that came to mind. It didn't have to be anything interesting or important, we were good enough friends to speak about any piece of garbage that we could come up with. Eventually, he told me what his plans were for the night and how he would make sure that nothing went wrong between us again.
I kind of zoned out in the middle of it. Listening to how many details there were in this plan made me kind of tired. I didn't have high hopes for it anyway. I knew that something would go wrong with this plan; when you make plans this intricate, there would always be something to mess it up. I preferred to just expect the unexpected, and the less I listened, the more would be unexpected.
"David Vardo!" shouted a shrill voice from inside his house. "I can hear your voice. Come inside the house. Now!"
"Crazy," I said.
"Indeed." He stood still for a few moments, staring at the sky as if asking God: "Why me?" even though he wasn't religious. Some people just made you do that. "Later Lith." He said, before taking dread-filled steps into his home.
I was only a few steps behind him, so I heard her berating him as I walked past. Still, amid the complaints, she offered me a friendly wave with a gentle smile. It was funny how she could do that. I returned her gesture and then made my way into my own home.
"Home.Sweet.Home." I thought before entering.
I heard little noise from inside, which was natural. I was the first one to get home in the evenings because my mother worked extremely late, what with being a single mother and all. Being alone wasn't something that unfamiliar to me, and I couldn't complain about the quiet.
Today, however; entering the house, only to hear the running fridge and my footsteps made me feel strange. The usually hot house was cold today. Once again, that shouldn't be something that I complain about. I preferred the cold.
I think that it's just the fact that you can't ignore some things forever. Being greeted by a fridge couldn't match being greeted by your family.
Usually, my little sister, Adrian, and I would be the ones coming through the door.
My sister, Stephany, would usually be the first one to enter the house; she would run under our arms as we opened the door, so she could turn on the tv and watch her cartoons. My mom would scold her for not saying good evening, and for not changing first before jumping onto the couch.
The refrigerator wouldn't greet me when I opened the doo. When my aunt was still living here, she and my mom would be there sharing stories and laughing light-heartedly at whichever poor soul was unfortunate enough to be in their line of sight during the day. We would come home to an already-made dinner.
My older brother, John, would be outside with his bad influence friends, doing something that he wasn't supposed to do. Even though he was usually the subject of trouble in the house, he was also the one who created the most joy. He tried to make everyone happy.
Adrian and I would run upstairs to play video games or beg John to show us something cool that we weren't supposed to see or take us somewhere dangerous, where we were not allowed to even think of going, so we could do something that we weren't supposed to do.
My father would come home late at night and all of us would jump on top of him. Even though he was tired from his construction job, he always had enough strength left to lift us, children, off of the ground at the same time.
Now it was just my mother and me in this house. I always wanted quiet, and I always wanted space, but now that it was here, I thought about when I didn't have those things. None of those things would ever come back.
The white tiles under my bare feet felt even colder, but I stood in the center of the living room, just listening to the sound of the fridge. Eventually, I caught myself. I shook my head and walked slowly up to my room. It didn't do any good to think about the things that weren't there anymore.
Usually, I would turn on my computer and play games with David and Howin, but they would both be busy. I also had to prepare for tonight; I didn't have anything fancy to wear, and I didn't tell my mom about it yet. I took off my shirt to go take a shower, but then I heard my phone vibrate.
I opened it.
<<1 new message from David>>
"Don't start anything with anybody there tonight. I want to sleep when this is all over."
I read the message in his voice, down to the lisp. It was annoying how he was telling me to do that like I was the one who usually started the arguments. I scoffed and threw the phone back onto the bed.
Before I could even turn around, I heard three more vibrations.
<<3 new messages from David>>
"I can see that you read the message."
"Answer"
"Answer"
'This guy,' I thought, before typing back.
"Did you tell the rest of them that?"
"They won't start anything unless you do. Please don't start anything, man. "
"You are lying to yourself if you think that."
"Just keep the peace."
I hesitated for a moment before responding. It wouldn't be that hard to keep my cool around them, anyway. Everyone had enough respect for Adrian that they wouldn't do anything to cause an argument on the anniversary of his death.
"Ok, father. I will be good."
"Promise."
"I said that I would be good, didn't I?"
"For all the pain you've caused me over the years, including today, you owe me this much. You know that I'm looking forward to this. If you mess it up, you're a bitch (100 emoji)"
He had a point. His social life certainly would take a while to recover after what I did today. I didn't want to make a forced promise, but the fact that he asked me to promise while knowing how much I hated to make promises meant that this meant something.
"I promise."
Before he could type a response, I threw my phone in the direction of my bed while turning around and pulling the door closed, not paying attention to where it landed. I didn't hear it hit anything, but I didn't check. I could find it again when I needed it.
I took a ten-minute shower and then rummaged through the closet to find something to wear. Rummaged is a strong word. I just chose whatever entered my vision first: a black hoodie with a star on the right side of the chest and some denim jeans. I also found a pair of red sneakers and put them on.
Before I left, I checked the mirror, contemplating whether I should wear my glasses. I was told that I looked good in glasses, but I preferred to keep them off. The mirror portrayed a light-skinned seventeen-year-old with light brown eyes. I ran a hand through my course, untrimmed, and unkempt hair, which was still slightly wet from the shower, before deciding that I looked not terrible.
'This should be ok..' I thought, before leaving the house. I had to go meet my mom before the meeting, so I could tell her where I would be. Hopefully, it wouldn't take too much time.