The Last Generation

The Box

Editor's note: 
Hi there! It's nice to see that you're on to chapter 2, which means you've decided to give my novel a go after chapter 1. I would love it if you could leave a review, favourite, or even react to my lines so that I can better edit my writing for the future. I'm thinking about breaking my chapters into two for easier perusal, do let me know what you think. Additionally, feel free to reach out with questions or leave suggestions! Enjoy this chapter. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The living room shared by the four members of the He household looked smaller than usual.

A harsh orangey pink light cast through the metal rails of the three-paneled window of the living room, encasing the catastrophe within the confines of a cage. The wooden coffee table, already dented and scratched from its years of service, lay on its side. There was a horrific picnic of smashed porcelain silverware strewn wildly on the beige tiled floor. Beside the crime scene was yet another, the family's beaten couch sat abused in what appeared to be vomit. In that moment, the stench hit Tiarna's nose, confirming her suspicion.

While Tiarna heaved a huge sigh of relief, her mom had snapped out of her temporary paralysis. Clenching her fists into tight balls, her mom charged through the mess, vaguely following the trail of vomit and scattered broken porcelain. Her mom pushed open the wooden doors across from her own bedroom and found her errant son curled up in a ball on the ground by his bed. In tight black skinny jeans and a white button down shirt painted in his own vomit, Keith appeared to be in a worse condition than the living room. She ground her teeth together.

"KEITH HE!" Mrs. He screeched, the sound so high-pitched that the boy immediately jolted out of his coma.

Tiarna sighed once more, this time internally. There was no point trying to save him now, so she chose to lean against the wooden arch of her bedroom door, merely peeking into the room but having no desire to be part of what was about to unfold. After today's encounter with Principal Lam, her mom was on a roll. Mrs. He planted both hands on her waist, giving her son the small courtesy to get up on his own. He blinked once, twice, trying to clear the fog from his vision and his mind. Last night had been rough, and he still had no clue how he had found his way home.

Keith's eyes opened like tiny slits, adjusting first to the unwelcome light around him before the blinding sight of his furiously shaking mom standing above him. He took the opportunity, trying to leap to his feet, only to lose his balance and tumble onto the ground with a heavy ba-dump. With a shooting pain coursing through his right arm from the contact with the floor, Keith was now truly awake. He hissed as he clutched his arm and clenched his teeth, his face twisting into the perfect cover picture of absolute torture.

"KEITH!" Mrs. He hollered once more, a little worried but mostly seething from rage that now burned her cheeks a deep maroon red.

Tiarna winced. If she had her own room, she would have disappeared into it and locked the doors behind her. Unfortunately, her own bed was just seven footsteps away from her brother's and she had no choice but to stand there and watch his demise continue to unfold.

"YOU'RE CORRUPTING YOUR SYSTEM?!" Mrs. He pounced, her eyes so wide with fury that the small crinkles around them deepened.

Keith raised his hands in surrender, "No way!" But his defense was weak, and the vein between Mrs. He's eyes began to protrude. He was in deep trouble and there was no way out... except.... Keith shifted slightly to his left, directing his gaze to his sister by the door. Keith knew he was beyond dead. His mom was about to crucify him for the world to see.