I awoke with a start, my heart pounding in my chest, my body sprawled over the sheets in an awkward position. I lie there dazed, wondering why I woke up so early, was it a nightmare? No, I don’t remember having a nightmare, would I know If I was even If I were having one? Why was I sleeping like this, I don’t sleep on my back? Do I? This is confusing, calming myself down by sitting up and gulping down water greedily from the cup on my nightstand. I lie back down but something felt off, my heart was beating erratically, and a sweat began to collect on my back, which was odd because it was freezing in here.

Throwing the pillow from underneath me down, I climbed out of bed and stood there looking around to figure out what was wrong, and why I was freaking out. My breaths began coming in and out erratically as my heart crawled into my throat, drawers from my desk were strewn on the ground with the insides unloaded on the desk, the door was ajar, and I began to make out muffled noises coming from below. Turning around as fear began to take control of my thoughts on what could’ve happened, a kidnapping? Murder?

That didn’t make sense though, wouldn’t I have woken up if it was one of those? Turning around to my desk I realized why it was so cold, the window was open. Something was wrong, it’s always closed, always bolted shut, it’s never been opened. Maybe I’m overreacting, Dad probably was looking for the stapler or something, and maybe he opened the window because it was getting too hot? Or maybe I was trying to convince myself, but I had to look. Shuffling to the window I could tell it wasn’t my dad who’d opened it, the window was in shambles barely being held together by its own wood. I leaned forward and out the window and forced myself to look down. Nothing, no ladder, no craters in the side of the house, no tree to climb on, nothing.

A crash resonated through the house, bringing vibrations like a small earthquake. Pulling away from the window, panic pulsed through me forcing me towards the open door than froze. I needed a weapon, looking around frantically while the voices rose higher below. I grasped the shaft of a lamp, the only weapon like object around me and spun to the door. Instantly I slammed the floor falling with a dull thud, brought down by the lamp. Instantly all went quiet, which amplified the fear more, my breath seemed louder than before with each inhale and exhale it felt like I could wake up the city. Holding my breath as the tense seconds went by I waited, waited to be caught, my bladder screamed to be released, but I held it all in.

It felt like an eternity before the commotion fortunately continued, I slowly got up and crept past the door into the hallway that led to the stairs, lamp brandished like a baseball bat, I hurried past the stairs to Andre’s room. His door left open like mine, I pushed it open my eyes wide with hope. His room mirrored my own, everything was trashed, but unlike mine, he wasn’t in here.

Anger spurred on by adrenaline and fear I bounded down to the bottom of the stairs, not caring about all the sound I was making and burst into the foot of the bright living room. My parents and little brother cowered to the opposite wall and a masked man stood between them and I. Stunned with indecision on, I focused on my brother, when he spotted me his eyes widened so much that even his long sandy hair couldn’t hide the fear.

“Now, I’m going to ask only one more time, and I hope you’ll be kind enough to… reciprocate” The intruder's voice dripped with sarcastic politeness.

“Look the safe is under the sink, just take it and leave,” My father choked out, pleading, the first time I’ve ever heard him beg.

Silence hung in the air, nobody moved, I held my breath and summoned my courage, I was going to save my family and what we own, inhaling deeply I heaved the lamp as hard as I could on a crash course directly towards the intruder’s head.

“I may not be able to read minds, but I can still sense ‘em.”

The masked man half turned lazily to eye me and the lamp, the lamp floated uselessly in midair, frozen in suspension by an invisible force.

“Chase? How’d you-“ My dad called out from the other side his voice cracking from panic.

“Shut up,” The man’s arrogant voice turned annoyed as with a single flick of his finger my dad was silenced.

Glancing over at him in fear he was oddly scratching at his throat, like… like he was choking. Taking a step towards the masked man I shouted: “Stop, hurtin…”

“Shh,” He shushed as an invisible force began constricting my throat taking my ability to breathe.

Then, any and all air was vacuumed out due to the invisible force pushing on my diaphragm. I couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, and started to not be able to form coherent thoughts from the lack of oxygen.

“Get over there,” He commanded with a flick of the wrist as he turned toward the sink in the kitchen.

I could only choke in response as my body was still under his control, my vision began flickering with black spots as my lungs struggled to inhale. He glanced back at me with a frown before he chuckled to himself.

“Oh yeah, sorry,” He said, not sounding too apologetic.

I was swept off my feet and flung toward my family, slamming into the wall, the drywall slightly caved in before the force. Thankfully as I made contact I was released from the constriction and could finally breathe. I gasped for air, the sweet beautiful air, you didn’t realize how good air was until you couldn’t get any more of it.

When the black spots in my vision finally subsided I turned my head to face my parents, my mom was slumped awkwardly on the wall leaning on Dad, who was glaring at the masked man with ire, and Andre was facing me his face wet from tears.

“Thought I’d put a strong enough sleep spell on you Chase, guess I gotta be more careful next house,” The masked man called out from the kitchen.

My eyes widened from the recognition of my name, it sounded rotten coming from his mouth.

“How the hell do you know my kid!? What kinda creep are you?” I dad yelled out his voice scratchy.

My dad’s muscles bulged and flexed with strain against the invisible bonds that held us but to no avail, he kept struggling even when the masked man walked in with the petite safe.

“That’s what you focus on?” He put down the safe and faced Dad.

“I break into your house, trash it looking for valuables, steal your wife’s jewelry, and about to steal what’s left of your savings, maybe this will teach you to trust the bank and not leave all your eggs in one basket. I even put your wife to sleep, although you did look particularly murderous than, maybe I should leave her like that indefinitely?” He taunted with what I could assume was an ugly smile underneath that ski mask.

“I’m going to kill you mothe-“ My father stopped right when he started.

The ski-masked man turned around with a wave of his hand and went back to the safe, “Yadda yadda, you’ll rue the day you miss with the Millers blah blah, in a few minutes I’ll be long gone and all I’ll be is a stain on your memory.”

I was still shocked into stillness, I couldn’t move, or speak, not due to the telekinetic force holding me down, but from my own fear. Helpless, a pathetic boy unable to help himself, much less others. The masked man traced the corners of the door of the safe and suddenly, without warning, it tore off. The screeching of metal piercing the night.

“I wouldn’t hurt the missus anyways, too much energy to maintain that long of a sleep spell, and as the gentlemen I am, I prefer not to hurt women,” He said with a chuckle, now he emptied the contents of the safe, and from what I could see cash and what looked like printed paper with typed words on it fell into a sack that I didn’t notice before on the ground.

He checked his silver watch for a moment before turning to face us, my father was red in the face and veins bulged across his neck, risking a hernia.

“The police are gonna be here for a couple more minutes so calm down before you hurt yourself,” The masked man commanded with a roll of his eyes.

Dad’s face morphed into a picture of hope as the sound of the police sounded something short of a miracle. If God was even watching, although I wasn’t too hopeful after how it was going down so far.

“You don’t spend a week casing a house without figuring out the police reaction times, plus your neighbor’s brain waves aren’t slow enough for them to be sleeping so they probably heard something and called.” He grabbed the bag and threw it over his shoulder before sauntering toward us.

He leaned in close to Andre and I and eyed us before focusing on Andre.

“How old are you Andre?”

“Don’t say a word!” My Dad shouted out his voice now sounded like gravel.

“Eh don’t really care anyway,” with a snap both of Andre’s wrists snapped back with an ugly crunch, I squirmed away hoping to shield myself to what was happening.

An inhuman scream erupted from Andre before his jaw clenched shut uncontrollably, tears cascaded down his cheeks as the masked man leaned in closer, causing Andre to squeeze his eyes shut. The masked man laid his right hand on his forehead.

The screaming stopped, the squirming stopped, and Andre went limp, but perhaps much worse he began tremoring.

Without moving the masked man announced, “Ahh it’s been a while, a child’s dreams are much more innocent, more energetic, more powerful than adults, I guess maybe that’s why I target families.”

All I could do was watch, the scenes burning into my brain.

“S-stop! Please…” I begged as I stared in horror at my broken little brother.

The man paused, and so did Andre’s body, and he turned towards me.

“Yes, the little hero, a child who’s brave and stupid enough to attack me with a lamp speaks again after being silent for so long, dreams to nightmares is that really what you want?” The masked man with an undisguisable emotion in his voice.

I glanced back at my brother his eyes were half closed and dazed, his wrists turning at odd angles, but I made a promise to him years ago that I would be there for him, and if I don’t stand up for him now than I’ve failed myself as well as him.

I filled my childlike voice with as much courage as I could muster and looked him dead in the eyes “Do it t-to me instead!”

He blinked.

“Ha-ha! You really surprise me kid, don’t see too many of that nowadays, just pleading, and begging blah blah, you really brightened up my day. I would take you up on your offer, but your brother is surprisingly fruitful…” His cheerful voice juxtapositioned the situation in such a way that it all just felt wrong.

“W-what?”

Before he could respond, the kitchen door was smashed inward, falling to the ground with a crash, and four officers dressed in navy blue rushed in firearms drawn.

“Phoenix Police! On the floor now!” The lead officer commanded gruffly.

Instantly the masked man sprung into action, sweeping his arm across the kitchen a wave of force rippled from his arm. Vases shattered, picture frames fell, and bullets veered off target. Just as chaos broke out I shut my eyes, shielded myself from the danger, gunshots rang out, shouts shouted, and footsteps bounded past me. After a tense minute everything, except the ringing in my ears, died down and I slowly peeled my eyes open.

There was a massive body-sized hole in the wall behind the dining room table, bullet holes littering the walls, and my pajamas pants felt drenched. I gazed at Andre, his arms and legs were at odd angles, his chest was caved in and his eyes… His eyes weren’t dazed, confused, or anything that of what other people said your eyes would look, they were animalistic, no sadness, fear, happiness, pain, just an off-putting edge to them that reflected what was going on behind them. And they were staring right at me.

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

I fell off my bed and hit the ground with a thud. My throbbing heart was slowly calming down as I took in my surrounding. A sheen of sweat slicked my back as I lied there staring at the ceiling letting the memories flow through my mind.

“Stupid.” I sighed to myself.

It’s been six years and I’m still reliving that day, but that’s what happens when you never forgive and forget, and this was one of the worse nights. Getting up, I checked the alarm and deduced it was a little over five, no point in going back to sleep now. I sauntered out of the room to the bathroom, I may not have wet the bed, but I still had to relieve myself after a night of sleep. After using the toilet, I splashed some water on my face and stared at myself in the mirror, tan skin, dark hair, black pupils, people said I look like my dad, while Andre used to look more like my mom.

There wasn’t even an autopsy, wasn’t needed they said, they had all the information the doctors said. When the paramedics finally arrived at the scene, they did try to use a portable re-fibrillatory, but to no avail, they called the time of death right there and then. Later the doctor informed us of what he dealt with before dying, broken arms, wrists, legs, ribs, shattered collarbone, caved chest, internal bleeding, and he didn’t even go into the neurological damage. The cops were useless as well, they didn’t find him, they didn’t know who he was, and after a couple months, the search for him was concluded. It wasn't important enough to keep wasting time and resources on since there was no new information. The familiar anger in me built up and in a fit of fury, I backhanded the glass that held the toothbrushes.

I barely even heard the crash or felt the shards of glass hit my leg, ignoring it I rubbed my face slowly trying to calm myself down. I need to get back into control, deep breaths, deep breaths. In another life, I would be an officer or soldier, but in this life that wasn’t good enough. Not effective enough, not strong enough, I needed to be something else, something Super. As I calmed down I swung open the mirror in front of me to reveal the bathroom supplies. The familiar urge took hold of me as I grabbed the dusty pill bottle and stared at it. Back at the start my parents scrounged up whatever money they had and got me a good psychiatrist, she obviously prescribed me some anti-depressants and diagnosed me with PTSD or survivors guilt or whatever.

I grabbed the bottle’s cap and was about to squeeze and turn when my mind wandered to a few hours from now, the interview. I applied for the Greensdale Project a few months ago and they cleared me for an interview with one of them. The Project could make me something more, something that I couldn’t become by my own, a Super, someone who had abilities, superhuman ones. Just like the masked man. If I was going to protect the helpless I would need to be part of the strong. If I could hold out for half a decade on drugs I could hold back another half, I just can’t bring my self to lose myself in meds and drugs. Losing myself, drowning my self in misery trying to escape what happened. No, I needed to keep going, I’d be spitting on his memory If I lose myself to self-pity.

Never again.

Letting go of my grip on the pill bottle cap with the unbroken seal I replaced it to behind the mirror, it’s jail cell, locking it away from my life. I glanced down at the mess I made, the glass shards littered the ground, the shards twinkled like small stars. Instantly I felt guilty, my mom had enough problems to deal with, and cleaning up my mess will not be one of them. I headed to the closet and grabbed the broom and swept everything up. If this Super thing didn’t work out at least as a side job I could be a butler cleaning the house, God knows how many things I’ve broken over the years.

Not that anyone knew of these… mood swings, not my friends, not my psychiatrist, not even my family, I couldn’t do that too them. After a year my psychiatrist pronounced me cured, stating that the symptoms had cleared up from proper counseling and prescribed drugs. She was wrong though; the symptoms weren’t gone.

I just learned to hide them better.