"We share the same secrets as kids. And grow up to face the same fears as adults." -fw.
When Amelia May loses her father to cancer, she is forced to separate with her only sibling and move in with the McKays, a wealthy high-class family. She slowly...
"Rise from the grave when everyone least expects it. We are the ones that thrive off being rejected. Hide under bones and never learning our lesson."
Chapter Theme Song: 'Raging on a Sunday' by Bohnes.
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Ashton
The van, out-of-place and dull, rolled up to the long driveway of The McKay Estate. Early that morning, before the sun had woken up and the outside was covered in its thick fog, I had called Amelia McKay, asking for her assistance with Matter and Ions for the chemistry quiz I had the next day. She was doubtful, probably after my sick adoptive father had gotten his men to harass her. When I saw her at school the following day, it was a shock for me. My father's men weren't ones to leave without the job done, and they never left behind any witnesses either. I doubted they'd covered their faces too; they were raw—whoever they came in contact with were always left dead.
I could hear it in her hoarse, sleepy tone, that she didn't want to come. So I told her I'd stop by. Not for the chemistry quiz—there was no chemistry quiz—but for the sake of reeling myself into the McKays' circle.
Kanan McKay. He was pissing me off fast, and their rich upbringing was pissing me off even more. That boy was on to me, but the playing field was now equal because I was on to him. He should have left me alone, but I left it to rich people to pry their noses into other people's business.
"Woah...their house is big..." My father grumbled from the left of me. His breath was stunk of weed and liquor though it was only ten in the morning.
I slid my eyes to him, eyeing him from the edge of my vision in discreet annoyance. He smoothed his big hands over the chipped steering wheel, his head dipping to size the house up. He was getting annoying very quickly, and my fingers twitched with the need to act upon it.
My attention floated to the ratchet knife in the pocket of his door, and I stared at it. One second, two, three, four. Four; that was an even number, which meant the urge would dissipate. Four. Four meant all was calm now.
Once I got to four, I could cope with the red flashes. I just needed to get to four.
I clenched my jaw and wrapped my fingers around the handle of my schoolbag, shouldering the door, and climbing out of his van that had smelled of engine oil and stale food.
And blood. But the blood...was all in my head.
A man, dressed in all black immediately stepped down from the foyer, and my adoptive father began his show of the perfect dad.
"Have a good day, Ashton!" He grinned wide and gave me a thumbs-up, showing the gold tooth at the corner of his mouth, and I cut my eyes away from him and to the man who was close now.
