An intruding stench of chemicals filled his nostrils, making its way up to his head, stinging like cold needles. The creaking wooden tiles being a ruthless traitor as he walks through the room as silently as possible.

„Where have you been?"

„Did some schoolwork outside, the weather is nice."

„You never go outside, Nox. Especially not if the sun is shining. Did you at least bring groceries?"

„Well, no. I forgot"

For fox's sake, did she tell me to? I tried recollecting every bit of our one-sentenced conversations we had this morning, without success. My mind was so consumed about this Aneil guy, even as we cycled home in silence. Well, to be exact, I didnt know where he went after waving me a quick goodbye, home I suppose. I wondered where he even lives. It was quite unsettling being left in the unknown like that, considering the fact that we seems to know my whole schedule. Damn it, I did it again. After realizing that I had just been staring into the void, I quickly glanced at my aunt rolling her eyes before turning around to face away from me, continuing to apply the radiant red nail polish with an almost ridiculous accuracy. The beige colored velvet fabric of the sofa cushion with corny flower patterns crackled as she shifts her position.

„I will be on a business trip soon, you know." she declared, putting the nail polish bottle on our tiny frosted glass table with a slight clacking, looking up but not turning around.

„My boss, I asked her for a promotion. I told you about what kind of diva she can be. So even you might understand my astonishment as she agreed today. Her condition: a temporary relocation. I have to prove my skills by managing some hair saloon in the outskirts of Conn."

Well, I didn't expect that. At least the forgotten groceries seemed to have been erased from her memory.

„Oh, I am happy for you" is what I responded, trying to sound as little robotic as in any way possible. „How long will you be gone?"

„Ah, I knew you were gonna ask that. Don't have all the info yet but I'll probably be gone for some weeks. You know, this can be a precious opportunity of developing my own career. And hey, they even offer me all their equipment for free use."

„Is that so?"

„Have I mentioned that ...."

I stopped listening after a shortly after that, nodding every time her voice reached a higher pitch, indicating some revolutionary hairdressing fact I must've missed. Aunt Becca, actually Rebecca but she hates when anybody calls her that, is my legal guardian, not my mother. I am by far not a specialist regarding sentimental things but I do know that there is a difference. I never grieved after my real parents, they are strangers to me. According to what I was told, my mother obligated Becca to take care of me. A selfish wish of a dying woman, snatching and burning a young girls dreams, the dreams of Rebecca Reed.

She never talked about it, I never asked. But thanks to some chatty friends of her I found out about the story. Becca was barely 20 when my mother put that burden down on her. My aunt always dreamt of becoming a nurse, gifted enough to get into the Ivy League. If it wouldn't have been for me at least. She new that taking care of an infant was not compliant with long nights of studies, forced to let her dreams, close as they were, go like a balloon carried away by a storm.

My aunt would never imply anything. But the memories of her cold, harsh undertone whenever I tried finding out more about my mother; or her teary eyes after meeting one of her old friend, a friend who succeeded in accomplishing what she never got the chance to, spoke more than thousands words. She did what she had to do, always caring well for me. In that sense, I couldn't complain in any way but she was simply never a mother to me but rather an aunt. Maybe this was the reason why I suddenly became a bit excited, elated to say the least. Or maybe it was just because I, for whatever reason, loved to be alone. I tried my best to hide a chipper smile creaking up to my lips, keeping a nonchalant face expression.

„Would you say so?"

„Sorry? Eh, yeah it's, mhm" I quickly stammered, wondering whether it was a yes or no question.

„I'm sorry, Nox. Really, I am. And I will get some groceries before I go, leave you some money or whatever." her eyebrows furrowed as she slowly gets up, walking past me toward the kitchen counter.

„Thank you, I promise it's fine." I responded, trying my most assuring tone while watching aunt Becca noting something on a grocery list in her loopy handwriting.

„Eh, we're out of cornflakes. Just in case-"

„I know, Nox." she shook her head in a staged outraged expression, a faint smile playing around her lips.

„So, when are you planning on leaving?"

„Well, uh. Tomorrow morning, packed already." she countered, pointing on the suitcases in the hallway, so blazing that I wondered how I could've missed them.

The rest of the evening went down like it always did. I lied on my bed, staring up the ceiling and wondering whether I lived in an endless time loop, a prisoner stuck in a scenario of a never changing evening, only perturbed by figments of his broken mind. A while later, I managed to drag myself out of bed to do my homework, aka scribbling anything on the pager just for the sake of it. I felt the pen getting loose in my grip, my eye lids heavy.

I slept well that night.

                                                                                          ~~~~

 „¿Cómo andas, chico?"

„Eh, yes I guess?" I wavered, stepping past Aneil who leaned on the school fence, watching the shouting fifth graders like he was staring at clownfishes in an aquarium. I couldn't help but slightly smile to myself about the way he just seemd so out of place. When I finally managed to unchain my bike after some fiddling, I was given the opportunity to take a fugitive look at him. Bright red boots, black punk outfit, dark painted nails and a red bandana in his hair. What else.

„Come on man, we don't got all day." Aneil complained, snatching me out of his fashion analysis.

„Diana's Diner?" I asked.

„Hm, nah not today. We'll go to yours." he just murmured before walking away with his bike.

„Hey you idiot, wait for me!" I hurriedly shouted, trying to keep up with him.

After walking for a while, I finally broke the silence. „So, what did you plan for today? I mean how exactly do you start an investigation? Considering you-"

„Psst." he cut me off, nodding his head towards the other side of the street. I followed Aneil's gaze, squinting my eyes to see what he was trying to show me. This was until I heard a piercing scream.

We had barely trespassed the school property before entering a district many colloquially call the „Zombie Town" based on the dilapidated, abandoned houses reminding of a post-apocalypse scene and has become a popular hangout for punks and their satanic graffiti. Once gone inside you usually leave just as quick or avoid it entirely. However, it's a massive abbreviation to my house and I like it, so it's fine. But today there were two teenagers, perhaps our age, trying to shove each others into the cement. One of them, a red haired boy, lost his balance and was thrown on the pavement and seemingly the one screaming. I've never witnessed something like that before in real life, their fight looked more clumsy than the one in video tapes. Despite that, I suddenly felt frozen in place, my heart beating in my chest like it was synchronizing with the rapid beats of the other guy.

„You think he's gonna get up again?" Aneil said, pointing to the ginger boy who lied on the pavement in a fetal position, covering his face while the other kept kicking him.

„Eh, doesn't look like it?"

„Let's bet."

„Aneil-"

„Eight dollars for me if he gets up again."

I didn't respond anything after that, it wouldn't have been of any use. I never knew why Aneil bet on him, it was obvious he wouldn't end up as the winner.  And I never knew how I could silently hope for the boy not to get up. Eight dollars. Eight goddamn dollars.

Suddenly Aneil boxed me in the arm, whispering a „Look." as we watched the attacker do one last kick, run away and leave the boy lying on the ground, coughing like a poor stray dog. Before I could say anything he reached in his back and handed me a few dollar bills, most likely with a total of eight dollars. For a moment, a fragment of a second, I actually considered simply taking the money. Just for another second to pass before I realized some ragged dollar bills almost made me leave someone lying in their own blood.

„Fuck you, Aneil" I hissed, slamming the money into his face and ran towards the boy.

„Hey, are you okay?" I asked, cursing myself for this stupid question.

„Does it look like it, you idiot?" he groaned, laboriously getting up, revealing blood tripping from his mouth and coloring the dark concrete floor.

„Do you want me to call the police?"

„No, no police."

„It's okay, maybe we could-"

„Haven't I made myself clear? Leave me alone you cunt." the boy cried out, limping away in the distance.

I silently watched him for a while before returning to Aneil who hadn't moved an inch. I didn't really know what I expected from him, maybe an insult or a mocking joke. But instead he just smiled, a faint smile, barely noticeable.

„Thank you, Nox." he simply whispered.

We didn't say anything after that because none of us needed to. And I never asked Aneil why his eyes became a little damp.

                                                                                        ~ * ~

 "The darkness doesn't conceal what you are; it gives you the chance to become what you were always meant to be." 

— Unknown