The car plunges down the slope, flipping, crashing through bushes and branches.
I scream, my fingers digging into Aiden’s hand.
And then everything goes black.
BAY
Fourteen years ago.
Home alone… that doesn’t happen often in a family as big as mine. I look around the empty kitchen in mild disbelief. Such silence, almost impossibly quiet.
Being sick does have one upside, you get to stay home and do whatever you want.
My eyes wander to the empty dining table where we usually all sit together. The surface is clean and slightly shiny, but on the counter, under a cover, there are a few slices of bread left for me either by Dad or maybe by Jordan.
I pour myself some orange juice and start eating, wondering when Dad will be back. I know he has the day off, so he probably went to the store.
I’ve got some time, so after finishing my toast, I grab my guitar, sling it over my shoulder, and head outside. It’s anunusually sunny day, the sky bright blue, and the patio feels peaceful for once, none of the usual chaos my brothers bring.
For a while, I sit on the rattan lounger, staring blankly at the garden, then get up and walk around the house.
I stop for a moment by the recently installed door that leads down to the basement.
My brother Snow lives there, he’s seventeen, homeschooled, and currently gone for a few days visiting our uncle Van.
Hesitating, I wonder if I should sneak downstairs and take a quick look at his space.
About a year ago, our parents remodeled the basement for him, turned it into a comfy living space, and added an extra entrance with a set of stairs. I glance at the narrow basement windows running along the ground, but all the blinds are shut tight, so I can’t peek inside.
Snow hardly ever invites any of us down there. He’s the one brother I barely talk to, well, except for Storm. But nobody gets along with Storm that well.
As I stand there, staring at the door, a distant sound reaches me.
It’s hard to make out what it is, though my hearing is exceptionally sharp, as befits an alpha.
I’ve known my subgender for over two years now. Most traits show up between eleven and twelve, and I turned fourteen. If it weren’t for this stupid cold, I’d be at school right now, the first day of high school.
I wanted to go, but I woke up with a fever, so Dad told me I could skip it since the first day is mostly orientation anyway. He said I should rest and get better.
So here I am. All my brothers are at school, except the youngest, Sun, he’s still in preschool.
I look around, trying to figure out where that sound came from, but I give up quickly. Instead, I head down to the lake.
Our family house is huge, kind of like an estate. My parents own a big stretch of land, and part of it borders the lake. Years ago, they had a small private beach made, which cost them quite a bit, too.
The sandy shore looks inviting, so I sit down on one of the flat rocks, place the guitar on my lap, and strum the strings.
I hum a tune I wrote yesterday.
Writing songs has been my thing ever since my voice changed. Now that it’s deeper, I’m enjoying it more and more. I used to hate that awkward stage when my voice cracked every time I tried to sing, it would jump into that awful squeaky falsetto.
Thankfully, I’m past that phase now. I keep singing, testing different keys until I find the right one, and the song starts coming together.
It’s about a teenager who runs away from home looking for a better life but finds only loneliness and hardship.
I know I can’t share this one with Dad. The lyrics would hit too close to home, reminding him of River, my oldest brother, who ran away six years ago and cut all contact with us.
But I want to sing about things that matter, about the dangers waiting for young people in a world that only seems friendly on the surface, still not everything that shines is golden.
