Okay. So apparently Jaiden is Damian's brother? I don't like him. He's too cheery, like he doesn't have a care in the world. Whatever. "Where's Damian?" I ask him. "You're a friend of his?" Jaiden asks. "I guess you could say that," I tell him. Jaiden leads me upstairs. "He sleeps in the attic," He informs me. Oh, I think, surprised. I thought he just liked to hang out there. I thank Jaiden for showing me the way and enter the attic.
Damian sits by the little window, looking outside at the sky. It just started raining. It takes a few seconds for him to notice me, seeing my reflection in the window glass. He turns around so fast that I flinch. Damn, he really is creepy. Damian stares at me for a few seconds, looking me up and down, before he smiles and says hello. I sit down with him. "Whatcha doin?" I ask. "Thinking," Damian responds. "Why do I put up with this?" "What do you mean?" My thoughts go back to how he sleeps in the attic. "I don't belong here," He tells me. "I don't know how much longer I can live in this house. My parents constantly compare me to Jaiden. He's literally perfect, and I'm—" Damian pauses for a second. He looks like he's about to cry so I put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm nothing like him. I'm a freak." Tears begin from Damian's eyes, dissolving into the wooden floor. I wonder how many times he's felt like this. "What should I do, Alexei?" He looks up at me, his eyes red.
Damian is not okay. As much as the kid scares me, he kind of reminds me of myself. I feel like he could turn out the same way I almost did unless someone helps him. The world doesn't need more menaces. I'm already one of them. Goddamn it. I need to focus. I lift the rifle in my hand, staring into the scope. That rush of untamed hunger is no longer there. Every time I practice marksmanship, I thank Mr. Sergei for everything he did. I hear the gunshot and look at the target. Dead center. Seriously, I'm getting really good. There's only one problem. My rifle is so loud. I should ask Matthias if he knows anyone that will sell me a silencer. Can't go to a store obviously. It's so annoying. Let's just say—I can't wait until I'm 21.