“They always told me that family sticks together; that they look out for each other… but I came to realize that something like that couldn't be true. People say that as a way to silence victims. No one wants to accept that their own little world could be corrupt or imperfect.
I had a big brother who always played with me and looked out for me. He had his fair share of anger issues but that wouldn't stop me from loving him. Can the same thing be said about him? I’ll never know. After marrying a woman I had known about for like a month, he moved away and vanished. He didn't have any final words. He didn't leave a letter. There was nothing that I could use to hold onto our memories. I was just six years old when I lost him.”
Florence, a 17-year-old boy in what is supposed to be his final year of school, is absolutely miserable. His life is a mess. He's a wreck. And he'll never be happy if he remains with his family. This collection of letters serves as a kind of goodbye as he intends to run away from home.
Florence’s room is the one his brother lived in before he moved out. Nothing could give away that his brother lived here. Only one family picture Florence had stolen as a vessel of remembrance remains of that brother. Florence himself never added any kind of flair to this room making it seem like he's an absent roommate that crashes every night yet lives elsewhere.
“That alone wasn't enough for me to reach a breaking point. I had much more to hold onto and so much more that I can love and cherish. My little sisters are were special… for me at least. The younger sister I loved is great at making conversation and getting people on her side which is exactly why I can't stand being around her.
Somehow, I’m always the one to blame when she’s at fault. Her ability to gaslight people and turn them against each other is horrifying and utterly disgusting. The worst part is that I’ve learned from her how to dodge problems by gaslighting others. I sometimes wish you'd never been born. I wish you would have vanished instead of him!”
Through various "methods", he had made enough money to live life away from home for five months, from next week till his birthday. Theft, collecting recyclable bottles, working part-time, and stealing from his parents… He did everything within his power to get closer to his goals.
“To my youngest sister,
you're the only one I believe should live a better life than this. I know that you struggled just as much as I did and I'm sorry for throwing you under the bus. I still love you as much as the day you were born. I believe that you should leave them too. If you do and you actually do find me, then I'm ready to accept you and take you in.
You're intelligent, smart, witty, and funny. Being around you lifts everyone's mood and brings me so much joy. If you happen to read this letter before anyone else does, don't keep it and throw it away.
Don't stop going to school and depend on those friends of yours. Don't let yourself be led astray by your parents or your big siblings. All the brain power went to you as did my not-so-great looks.”
He poured his heart out for his youngest sister even going as far as to leave her enough money to buy herself a new phone since hers has been busted for quite a while though he's not sure whether or not she's going to squander all that on snacks and other things he considers less important.
“The only reason why my sister is so manipulative is because of you. Yet, despite your ability to manipulate people into obeying your orders, you somehow failed at making that violent fuck of a husband bow down to you.
I cannot stand you, that’s all I have to say to someone trash like you.”
The letter directed to his mother was kept short and got straight to the point. He cannot stand what he calls his birth-giver for she is the reason that he is so miserable.
“Fuck you”
His "father", despite being an abusive and also violent drunkard, also gets a letter. Now that he’s gone through all the letters he's written yesterday, he can finally rest at ease. The only thing left to do is pack his bags and endure another week living this life. Still, even if he has convinced himself that this is the only way, he can't help but feel guilty.
----------------------------------------
The summer heat accompanied by a soft breeze feels rather bitter as he can't even enunciate any form of comfort from living in this city. What he definitely won't miss is this bustling city.
1.73 meters in height, black hair, brown eyes, small hands he always takes an issue with, anxious, socially awkward, and more… His upbringing makes it easy to feel envious of others and then feeling guilty for feeling that way. Especially around people like Franky, the friend he’s walking home with, aggravate that feeling around others especially when his parents comment on these things.
“Are you okay? Something bothering you?”, asks Franky.
Unlike Florence, Franky seems like the perfect teen. His almost cosmic blue eyes are pleasant to look at. His lean build and athleticism make him so much more approachable. His friendly face and the way he gestures make him a lot more approachable. His voice is the perfect soothing deep that anyone would love to listen to. His academic skill places him among the top students within their grade. Everything about Franky is perfect.
“I’m fine,” lies Florence. “It's just the summer heat.”
“I just wish I could tell you,” he thinks. He can't trust his family. He can't trust the authority figures in his life. Even his only and best friend is trustworthy. “If I know how you’ll react to me disappearing… I honestly would be sad because there is a chance that you don’t care or that you’ll care and be hurt in the process.”
“Wanna buy yourself some ice cream? Something sweet? You used to snack on all kinds of things a couple months ago, so-”
“And I spent too much money on these things.” Clear and concise. As always, Florence sticks to killing conversations before they could drag on.
A warm summer breeze hits the pair walking towards the station. Even though Franky can be chauffered home by his brother, and the fact that his home is the other way, he's willing to accompany his friend.
Walking along a busy sidewalk, Florence is thinking about taking risks he usually wouldn’t take.
“You know, you’ve been bugging me about staying over and since I’ve forgotten my keys, I thought I could stay over,” he lies. “My parents are working and my siblings are probably out with friends by now, so if you don't mind-”
“Sure! Let me just call Ben!" Rather excited, he cuts off his friend.
While they wait for a ride home, Franky, excited, buys the two of them ice cream served in cups. Usually, his friend would decline any kind of invitation and the number of times he's come over can be counted on one hand. The reason behind those rejections is often linked back to how he feels about Franky and his cheerful nature that just feels off.
Meeting in a parking garage, the two hop into Ben’s car.
Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.
“Florence, is there anything you want to eat? I’ll be out with friends after I drop you off. Like fast-food stuff? Asian? They also opened a restaurant not too long ago with Mexican food? Or maybe-”
“You talk too much! You don’t have to list all that!”, barks Franky.
“I was just trying to be nice! You could try that instead of faking it!”
“Huh?! I’m not faking anything! You’re just jealous that I get along with people and you don’t!”
Somehow, this always would happen whenever Florence interacts with the two of them. They’d bicker and fight as if they were kids even though Ben is 20 while Franky is 16. Both should be old enough to finally start acting like friends yet they insist on picking fights for petty reasons.
Usually, Florence would be pretty annoyed at two people bickering and fighting right in front of him, but today all he can do is laugh hysterically.
Taken by surprise, the two of them marvel at Florence. He barely laughed to begin with, especially not to the level of shedding tears. Writing these letters, feeling at peace, and being at his happiest since he's about to run away from home let him shed his defenses even if only for a little bit.
“Sorry, I didn't mean to laugh,” he snickers. “A doner box sounds good.”
Home alone, the two of them head up to Franky's living room. Franky makes himself comfortable in bed as Florence lies in his chair.
Even now, Florence feels some sense of jealousy and guilt for feeling that way. He's rather amazed by Franky's room. LED lights, expensive gaming setup, a ukulele, and a bunch of comics make for a rather lively room.
“I know your parents are rich and all that but every time I walk in here, I'm amazed.”
“They never stick around though… though I don’t mind. I mean-”
“And that fake positivity is still as irritating as ever,” adds Florence. He’s surprisingly honest about his feelings today.
“I guess it is kind of apparent, huh…”
“It’s not that I don’t mind but I’d rather that authentic you than the person you pretend to be.”
The silence makes the air feel so much more awkward and suffocating. Knowing that he messed up in his wording, he attempts to salvage whatever there is left to save.
“I didn't mean it in a bad way! I just know that you give it your best all the time to be this popular and likable guy that everyone loves but it sometimes feels like you’re overdoing that.”
“Not that it’s a bad thing. I just mean maybe you should just rest instead of being this guy keeping up appearances. It’s kinda like you’re trying too hard for something you don’t even want to do.”
“No, wait! That-”
“I get it,” says Franky. “I guess I should loosen up a bit. You know how me and my parents are. They’re always absent and never care about anything I do. Maybe I should stop trying to prove myself to them and just start living my life. I can’t even make friends without feeling like we’re not actually friends.”
“I thought everyone liked you-”
“No more depressing things! We’re here to have fun! So I’m gonna ask you about that necklace no one ever talks about. What’s up with that!”
“That thing?”, he says as he tugs at a key attached to his necklace. “I thought I was the only one that can see it.”
The key seems more like a golden weapon. Its bow is made of an inner ring attached to a middle ring by five rods. Ring 2, the middle ring, is attached to the outer ring by seven rods. The outer ring is attached to the shaft. No ridges or key wards can be found on the shaft that is more akin to a rod. Instead, the end of it is shaped like a spear.
“I can enlarge it and make it fly around too.”
Enlarging it up to a length of two meters, he lets it spin around like a deadly fan right above their heads. Starting to blow comic books and figurines around the room, Florence motions for the end of the whirlwind it was starting to create. His key shrinks and slowly is guided back under his shirt.
Franky is rather speechless simply marveling at his friend’s powers.
“I guess it is kind of freaky,” he adds.
“You probably shouldn’t use that around others. At all. Okay.”
“Sorry… For the mess I mean.”
----------------------------------------
After hours well-spent, Florence is waiting for the next train as the setting sun looks over him. The gentle breeze kindly sweeps over his exposed skin cooling him in these hot evening hours. He can’t help but feel like he’s at peace.
Before long, a young boy sits down next to him.
“Are you okay?”, he asks.
Looking rather distressed, the young boy avoids the question.
“Is he lost?”, thinks Florence as adjusts himself to face the boy.
“I’m Florence. Whatever you tell me is a secret between the two of us, okay?” Reaching out with a pinkie, he makes another attempt at connecting with the kid.
“Really?”
“I promise! It’s a pinky promise!”
Iqbal, aged seven, lives in a situation similar to Florence. The only difference between the two of them is the fact that Iqbal is a first-generation immigrant meaning that his parents stem from Pakistan with him being born in Germany. Florence stems from Italy but both of his parents were born in Germany. He’s running away from home to avoid being abused by his parents.
Since their stories are so similar, Florence can empathize with the things Iqbal is going through and knows just how hard it is to get an adult to listen to you. Even when there are apparent scars shown through marks both mental and physical, people tend to hesitate when it comes to helping a child.
“Then how about I cheer you on from now on? I’ll stay by your side if you stay with them!”, he declares. Even though he has plans of his own, he can keep them at hold for at least another month or so.
Iqbal can’t help but shed tears. However, Florence himself knows that scars alone sometimes aren’t enough for someone to rescue you. He knows that all he can do for now is protect a child in need.
Within the time spent chatting, they completely forgot just how much time had passed. Talking about hobbies, friends, family, and dreams somehow made them miss the change in their surroundings. The station has completely changed; warped into something else.
Now the two of them are sitting on a bench somewhere in abandoned land. The tracks are overrun by greenery. Birds flock towards them observing them. Unafraid and unbothered, they approach the two of them as if they had never seen humans.
“AAH!”
With a single cry, Iqbal dispersed the crowd.
“It’s so pretty! Where are we?”
“I don’t know,” replies Florence. “Just don’t let go of my hand. I’ll find a way back home.”
Though he doesn’t know how they ended up here, he knows that something is off. He cannot indulge in childlike wonder like Iqbal does and therefore isn’t willing to let his guard down.
“This feels familiar,” he thinks. For now, he’ll indulge in Iqbal’s wonder. But, something he can be certain of, is the fact that no matter what, he has to find a way out.