DAMIEN'S POV
"Damien!" Laura's voice cut through the thick silence of the house.
"You've got a letter." Her tone was neutral, but something in her eyes gave away her curiosity.
I trudged down the stairs, feeling the weight of each step in my bones. The envelope she handed me felt heavier than it should. My name was printed in bold letters, and the sender's address blazed at me like a bad omen. CriddleFord Boys High School.
My heart skipped a beat, but I knew what it would say. I had intentionally flunked the entrance exam. No way they'd accept me. I tore open the envelope, the paper crackling with anticipation, and read the words that mocked my efforts:
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Dear Mr. Damien Rivera,
It is with great honor that we accept you into CriddleFord Boys High School following your fair performance in the school's entrance examination. We are delighted to have you as one of our students and we hope to see you excel in CriddleFord and beyond.
For more information concerning your admission procedures, please log into the school website and follow the steps outlined below:
- [www.criddlefordhigh.com](http://www.criddlefordhigh.com)
- Click on admissions.
- Type in your full name.
- Enter the password: bjklzpd
Yours faithfully,
Herod McLuther
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The letter slipped from my hands, and an involuntary scream erupted from my throat.
"Ahhhhhh!"
"What the hell is your problem, Damien?" Daemon's voice, cold and cutting, rang out as he descended the stairs, his eyes narrowing at me.
"For God's sake, can't there be a moment of peace in this house?" Desmond grumbled as he followed, the annoyance evident in his every step.
I didn't answer. I couldn't. My brain was a whirlpool of thoughts, each more terrifying than the last. That place was a prison disguised as a school, a hellhole where boys like me got broken. I felt a shiver crawl up my spine. Desmond, always too quick, snatched the letter from my limp hands, his eyes scanning it.
"Congrats," he said, his voice laced with a smirk.
"Finally," Daemon muttered, taking a long swig from the soda can he held.
"There's no way in hell I'm going there." My voice came out steadier than I felt, but the words were as fragile as glass.
"Hell no, you are going there," Daemon shot back, his tone carrying the finality of a death sentence. "Dad's words are final, and you know it."
Before I could retort, Darren burst into the house, his suitcase in one hand, phone glued to his ear with the other. He was in mid-conversation, issuing orders with the sharpness of someone used to control.
"Shirley, cancel all my appointments. I won't be in California for the next two weeks." He hung up, handing the suitcase to Laura as he made his way into the living room, where the tension hung like a thick fog.
"Hey guys." He loosened his tie, his sharp eyes flickering between us.
"Hey," we echoed, a reluctant chorus.
"What's that?" Darren's gaze zeroed in on the letter clutched in Desmond's hand.
"Nothing," I lied, but it was too late.
"Damien got admitted," Desmond blurted out, the words slicing through the air.
Darren's expression darkened, frustration tightening his features as he turned to me, his voice barely restrained. "I thought you flunked the exam, Damien."
"I did!" I spat back, my eyes glued to the floor. I couldn't meet his gaze, not with the shame bubbling up inside me.
"Maybe Dad pulled some strings," Desmond said, shrugging. "You know he's tight with Principal McLuther."
Darren's eyes narrowed, anger flaring as he shot a glare at Daemon. "And what's your problem, Darren?" Daemon sneered, a dangerous edge to his voice. "It's the same school we all went to. Why shouldn't Damien go there?"
Darren took a step toward him, his fists clenching at his sides, the fury barely contained. "Because it's not the same for him, you idiot!" His voice was a low growl, vibrating with the tension of unsaid words.
Daemon scoffed, brushing past Darren like he was nothing, but the air between them crackled with the threat of violence. I watched helplessly as Darren turned on his heel, storming up the stairs, his anger a palpable force that made the room feel smaller.
I didn't even notice the tears until they started falling, hot and fast. I wiped them away, feeling the sting of helplessness all over again. "This isn't fair," I whispered, but the words were swallowed by the oppressive silence.
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7:12 pm
That confrontation was just the beginning. The afternoon's events played on repeat in my head, each replay making the future feel darker, more inevitable. I had thought being sixteen would grant me some control over my life, some say in where it was headed. But that was just a fantasy, a cruel illusion in a world where every step was dictated by Dad's iron will.
Darren—the engineer, the golden child—who would be twenty-five soon and was the only one who really cared about me, was powerless against Dad's decree.
Daemon—the devil himself, a total jerk who got off on mocking me, was all too happy to see me shipped off to CriddleFord. He was in his final year at NYU, studying computer engineering, but his real talent was making my life hell.
Desmond, my closest ally, now turned the knife in my back with his complicity. A freshman at Harvard, he had always been the one I could rely on. But now? Even he seemed resigned to my fate.
Our family's mansion felt more like a gilded cage, a place where I would never truly belong. We were wealthy, yes, living in a bougie rich neighborhood full of snotty rich people who thinks they're better than everyone except those that look like them.
And then there are my friends—Delia and Jake—who had been my sanctuary since childhood. But now, even that bond felt fragile, ready to snap as we were all about to be scattered to different high schools.
I skipped dinner, knowing Dad would be on a tirade about CriddleFord. The thought of sitting there, listening to him justify my misery, was more than I could bear. I climbed into bed, trying to escape into sleep, but the darkness only brought my fears closer.
When I finally drifted off, it wasn't a dream that found me, but a nightmare—a vivid, terrifying vision of life at CriddleFord.
And when I woke up, the dread didn't fade. It lingered, thick and suffocating, a constant reminder that my nightmare was about to become reality.