Stare waited with bated breath for the opportune moment to set his plan in motion. The success of his escape depended on ensuring his parents were sound asleep.
By 10 p.m., the lights in his parents' room had finally dimmed, and the soft rhythm of their snores seeped through the closed door. Clearly, the exhaustion from their day's work had taken its toll.
Carefully concealing his head under the hood of his hoodie, Stare moved silently towards the apartment door. With deft fingers, he entered the unlock code, and as his hand gripped the doorknob, an unexpected hesitation gripped him. He glanced back, torn between his resolve and a reluctance tied to his family's presence. He exhaled deeply, his gaze lingering in the direction of his parents' and sister's rooms. Collecting his courage, he turned forward again and eased the door open, inch by inch, minimizing any noise.
He stepped outside, his movements shadowy and soundless…"
The night hung eerily quiet over the area, a silence that seemed almost unnatural, as if the world held its breath.
This unusual stillness could be attributed to the upcoming public testing. The populace was likely either fast asleep, preparing to rise early for the event, or engaged in last-minute preparations. The testing was a pivotal occasion in the lives of the current human generation. It marked a juncture of fate, determining whether one would remain a normal human or ascend to a higher realm as a Prime.
Aware of every visible CCTV camera strategically positioned on tall street poles, Stare navigated with caution, exploiting blind spots to avoid detection.
This feat was no small undertaking, considering the sheer number of cameras and their 360-degree view capabilities. However, his honed skills, refined over countless years of experience, gave him the edge to overcome this daunting challenge.
Eventually, he arrived at a familiar shop nestled by the pavement's edge.
A soft knock on the half-open door of the relic shop prompted a tall figure to widen the opening with a welcoming grin.
"Come in…come in brother." John responded with an enthusiastic smile.
They ventured deeper into the relic-laden shop, passing shelves burdened with the weight of history.
Stare trailed behind John as they journeyed towards a door nestled at the shop's rear.
John passed through the door and beckoned on Stare to follow suit.
Stare walked past the door and was taken aback by the simple and clean appearance of the room beyond.
Aside from the double sleeping mats on the floor, a rechargeable lamp, and a loudspeaker by the side, along with a couple of clothes lying on a chair, there wasn't anything else in the room."
John had already settled onto one of the mats, his eyes closed, legs crossed, swaying gently in rhythm to the reggae beats playing from the speaker.
Stare observed John's tranquil demeanor, the smile on his lips revealing an immersion solely in the music.
With a sigh, he joined him on the other sleeping mat, crossing both his legs and closing his eyes as well.
He had done his part, all he could do now was just hope everything went according to plan.
The Next Day…
The Johnson's Apartment.
It was already 6:am.
Mrs. Johnson, Stare's mother, was already up and dressed in a vibrant multicolored shirt. This shirt bore a striking resemblance to the one they had gifted Stare on his birthday, except the center now read 'JOHNSON'S PRIME SUPPORTER' instead of 'JOHNSON'S OWN PRIME.' Paired with jeans, her outfit exuded youthful energy.
She had a tense expression and her movements were quick and full of agitation.
She quickly forced her husband up and helped him wash up and change into a shirt similar to hers and jeans.
After she had helped him prepare, with the same energy she hurried to Aila's room.
The adorable little girl groggily rubbed her sleepy eyes with a pout, after her peaceful sleep was cut short by her mother.
She immediately feigned immobility to remain in the bed but after many minutes of squabble with her mother, she finally yielded and let her mother bathe and dress her in a miniature version of the multicolored T-shirt and Jeans.
Intensely surveying her fully dressed and pouting daughter, she nodded her head, clearly proud of her work.
Leaving Aila's room behind, she briskly headed to Stare's quarters. Pausing at the door, her anxious demeanor transformed into a cheerful smile, approving of her appearance. She knocked on his door, seeking a response.
Silence.
Knocking once more, she encountered the same quietude.
A furrow formed between her brows.
"Stare, wake up, dear. It's Mum," she called out, her voice tinged with worry.
With growing unease, she accessed the emergency password, swiftly unlocking the door. Stepping inside, she was met with an unsettling sight—Stare's room was vacant.
Panic took hold, and her heart raced. Searching every corner, her distress deepened as she failed to find any trace of her son. She quickly ran to her husband in panic.
Mr. Johnson seemed to still have traces of sleepiness, as he slowly sipped the hot coffee in his hand.
He had to work overtime after taking a leave to make it to Stare's previous birthday celebration.
'It's such a blessing today's a public holiday, else-'
His thoughts were suddenly interrupted as his wife barged frantically into the room. Her face was full of panic and her eyes were already red and almost swollen.
Richard was shocked but what he heard next delivered a bigger blow of shock to him.
"Stare's missing."