The only light in the room was a lamp that flickered in the corner of the cramped room. Two chairs huddled close to the worn couch between them, their color clashing fiercely against the stained carpet. Eon sat on the couch, his mother to his right.
His father sat on the chair to their left, his face hidden by his hands. When he finally lifted it, he tried desperately to meet Eon’s eyes. Instead, Eon faced forward, his jaw clenched tightly.
“Eon,” his father’s voice spoke, pleading with his son to understand. “I had to tell you this. I want you to understand.” Eon’s hands tightened into fists. His mother placed her own hand on his, trying to relax him. It only caused his fists to tighten further.
“Please, Eon,” this time, the voice cracked. “I’m still your father.” At this, Eon jumped up from the couch. It took him two steps to cover the space between himself and the man he had spent the past ten years believing to be his father.
“You are a follower of the devil. You sinned,” he said, venom lacing each word, “and I must pay for this?” The light flickered, casting a shadow over Eon’s already dark skin. It gave the young boy a menacing look.
“My angel,” his mother’s voice pleaded from behind, “listen to what your father is saying. He made one mistake, many years ago. He never meant to harm anyone.” The nickname seemed ironic to Eon, after what he’d just been told. It wasn’t her fault though. He wouldn’t blame her.
Instead, his eyes remained locked with his father’s. “Tell me, when will they come?”
His father shook, whether from fear or sorrow, Eon neither knew nor cared. The man remained silent, further frustrating Eon. He grabbed the collar of his shirt, forcing him out of the chair and into the wall mere feet behind them.
“Tell me!” he demanded, anger fueling his strength. His forearm pressed into his father’s throat, forcing out a croak. Eon was so focused on him that he was caught off guard by a small shriek from his mother. His grip loosened, and he shifted away from his father slightly.
It was his first mistake, one that would be followed by many more. Something cold pierced his shoulder: something clearly intended to sink into his heart, but thrown off by the shaking of the hand that held it.
Eon turned to look at his father, the knife sliding further down as he did so. His father looked at him with a face twisted by a wave of emotions.
“Why?” Eon managed, his breathing labored by the pain. Once again, the man was silent. In a rage, Eon pushed himself back, stumbling as he did so. Warmth spread over his shoulder as blood slowly seeped from the still-embedded dagger. He tripped over the cord of the small lamp, tearing it from the socket and sending the room into darkness.
A spark clung to the curtains, feeding desperately and growing into hungry flames. The room glowed brighter as the flames seemed to create a wall between Eon and the most obvious escape. He turned back to where his parents had been, only to see he’d been deserted.
Desperately, he ran to the door they must have gone through. His right hand grabbed hold of the brass, but it was useless. The handle refused to give in to him, and each shake only sent pain to his shoulder. He was trapped.
>>>>>
Eon’s eyes fluttered open, bringing him back to present day. He shook with the pain, the betrayal, the anger.
He turned on the faucet and filled his cupped hands to the brim. The water hit his face with an icy vengeance, whisking away the confusion that had slid into place on his features. He’d felt so hurt by the way his family had treated him. They’d acted as if he was the one who had brought the trouble into the house.
Yet, here he stood. Alive. It was more than he could say for his mother and father. Why he was alive, and neither of them had survived would perhaps forever remain a secret to him.
Slowly, the breath slipped from his lips in a way that seemed to release the anger that had been building since he’d thought of his father earlier while fighting with Kiel. He turned away from the mirror, removing the rest of his clothes before washing the rest of his emotions down the shower drain.
After he had showered, he made his way to his bed. He hadn’t lied to Kiel. Their fighting had worn him out. It was going to be a long day tomorrow, anyway. The first day of school never failed to be a long one, especially in smaller towns. The stares and the whispers, the curiosity and questions – they all built up to be rather tiring indeed.
His eyes slipped shut, his last thought a silent prayer that he would sleep without memories clawing their way in.
Spoiler
Note: I foresee this being nitpicked, so I want to just include a note about something here. If you read chapter one, you know Eon is only 10 years old in this flashback. You may think what I've done here (the strength he has, the way he acts) is too mature for such a young boy. Please remember he isn't completely human and has quite a temper. Maybe no one would have said anything, but I didn't want anyone getting caught up with that. 
Now, critique away! Its the first writing of it, so all help is appreciated.
Now, critique away! Its the first writing of it, so all help is appreciated.
