The curtains were already drawn. Plain moss-green fabric cascaded in soft, gathered folds to the sides of an open glass window, giving way to sunlight.

He didn't remember if he closed them the night before, but it helped to know that the sun had risen.

Alley had been sitting on his bed since midnight. If simply closing one's eyes counted as sleep, he managed four hours. If opening them counted as being awake, he had been awake for three.

"And once again, it's morning," he muttered, winced, and closed his eyes momentarily, massaging his temples. Listening closely, he could hear the faint bustle of the distant streets and his mother working in the kitchen.

After a while, he opened his eyes and resumed staring at the black digital clock on his bedside table, the red glowing numbers ticking away the seconds.

The clock blinked seven, and he immediately shut it off after a single chime, then rose from the bed. He grunted as his body instantly complained, with every muscle and joint feeling stiff and sore.

To squeeze the soreness out, he performed a simple stretch, movements slow and deliberate, ensuring his body was warmed up before he made his way to the shower.

A few minutes later, he stood before the mirror in his white button-down polo shirt and khaki pants uniform.

Sunken brown eyes stared back at him from beneath his unruly, overgrown dark waves of hair. He tried brushing it up, yet ruffled it back down when he saw the dark circles and eye bags it helped hide.

Alley's fingers hovered over his hair, contemplating briefly if he should have it cut, but he dismissed the thought and made his way to the kitchen.

A few steps from his room and he knew.

"Pancakes," he said as the sweet smell of breakfast met him.

"That's right," Fiona's cheerful voice came from the kitchen. She turned, and her long dark locks swayed. "Good morning, sweetie. Slept well?"

"Good morning, Ma," he replied softly, taking a seat at the table. "I did. It was... it was nice," added Alley with a faint smile.

Fiona returned it, her hazel eyes smiling along. "That's good." She handed Alley a plate of the golden stack. "Go ahead and help yourself to your topping."

Alley nodded as he took them and began to eat.

Moments later, his father emerged from the other room, dressed neatly in a tailored deep blue suit, white shirt, and slim black tie.

"Let's go. We'll be late," said Stephen, walking toward them with haste.

"What about breakfast?" Fiona took off her apron, revealing her similarly colored attire. She abruptly turned to Alley, "Sweetie, go get your brother."

Alley nodded and headed to Asher's room, closing the door quietly behind him. He could still hear his parents' voices, rising and falling with tension, so he listened in.

"You told me we wouldn't go there anymore," Fiona's voice wavered.

"The mayor, Fiona. The mayor will be there. This is our chance to rebuild our reputation," Stephen's tone was firm but weary.

Alley's stomach tightened at the word 'reputation'. He turned away from the door, pushing the argument out of his mind. Instead, he sat beside Asher's bed, focusing on waking his little brother.

"Ash..." he shook him lightly by the shoulders. "Ash," he shook him once more, seeing that the seven-year-old was definitely awake.

"I guess I'd have to eat your share of pancakes..." Alley stood up, and a hand immediately stopped him.

"No! It's mine!"

Alley chuckled. "So you're awake now, huh?"

Asher laughed and sat up. "I was playing with you, brother."

"Oh, playing with me? How about this?" Alley raised his hands like claws, launching a tickle attack on his brother's sides, extracting giggles. "Hm?"

Asher was out of breath from laughing. "Okay, okay, stop, stop!"

Alley obliged, and they both sighed. "Come on, we'll have to drop you off to Aunt Silla. Ma and Pa will be going somewhere tonight, so I'll be the one fetching you later after school."

"It's only the two of us at home tonight?"

"Yeah."

Asher leaned in to whisper, "Let's have a pizza party," and shushed his brother.

"We'll have one for you tomorrow," he smiled at him, with Asher still excited about the idea.

"ALLEY!" his father called from outside, and he immediately lifted Asher off the bed and grabbed his shoes.

"We're coming!"

The brothers were ready and went out of the room. Asher went to his mother with his packed breakfast, and Alley went and grabbed his backpack.

The family gathered at the front door, exchanging glances before stepping outside.

Fiona opened the door, and as they crossed the threshold, a collective gasp escaped their lips. Stephen cursed at the sight before them.

Their whole porch was drenched in red.

The air was thick with the stench of rot, scraping throats and making eyes water. Blood smeared across the concrete path, soaked into the lawn, dripped from potted plants, and stained the fence and bushes in a gruesome scene. Everywhere was painted in deep crimson.

Fiona's hand flew to her mouth in horror. Stephen's jaw clenched in barely contained fury. Alley stood frozen for a few seconds, then turned to his brother to cover his gaze.

"Cover your nose," Alley instructed Asher, as Fiona rushed for the hose. Everyone stepped back as she sprayed the concrete for a path.

"WHO DID THIS?!" shouted Stephen as he saw their neighbors on their own lawns, peering over at theirs. A few faces peeked from behind curtains, and some openly stared. "I WILL MAKE SURE YOU ROT IN JAIL, YOU FUCKER!"

"Honey, that's not making this any better," Fiona said, her voice trembling, trying to calm him down.

Stephen's jaw remained tensed, "They're getting out of hand!"

"I know!" shouted Fiona back. "I know..." She turned off the hose, unable to meet eyes with Stephen. "I'll make sure to report it."

"Report... did anything even change from last time? This fucking district doesn't do anything about it, Fiona," said Stephen through clenched teeth.

"Then..." she faced him, "What do you propose we do? Go to the police? And? Get kicked out again?"

Stephen went silent. With a grunt, he turned away and headed to the car, muttering his annoyance.

Fiona sighed, her shoulders slumping as she turned to Alley. "Sweetie, call for a cleaning job later," she instructed as they followed to the car.

"I left notes on the fridge. They're for Asher's birthday tomorrow," added Fiona, opening the car door, as Stephen and Asher were already inside.

"Yes, Ma."

"The switches before bed."

"Water, gas, electricity."

She nodded. "And your final exam results, and your grades."

"I will get you a copy."

"Get in, we're gonna be late!" Stephen shouted from inside the car, taking Fiona's attention.

She sighed and faced Alley. "You have to take care."

"I will, and you too," Alley reassured his mother with a smile.

"Alright, remember what to do in situations like these," she glanced at their porch.

Alley nodded at her words, and she entered the car. "I love you, sweetie!" added Fiona while she waved goodbye, Asher waving with her.

Hesitant to say it back, he just smiled and waved. He watched their car disappear down the street before turning his attention to the task at hand.

With the bus stop only a five-minute walk away, Alley supposed he had time to take care of things. He checked his phone for the cleaning service app and saw an available slot at 9 AM and booked it.

Before leaving, he grabbed the hose and cleaned some of it, yet the sickening smell still lingered. He knew it was pig's blood again. It was a familiar stench. He sprayed down the lawn and bushes, but water alone was not enough.

"They'll handle the rest," said Alley as he shut off the hose and tidied himself.

He took one last look at their lawn. His eyes brushed past the houses around, and his neighbors avoided his gaze.

Alley nodded at his observations and turned around. "Mm, every house," he muttered, remembering how it had taken days for some incidents to clean off.

He adjusted his backpack and sighed, "The paint one was the worst," and made his way to the bus stop.