"The interesting topic that we learned today will be on the test!" screamed Mr. Kasper. His glasses hung on his collar as he inspected the class to see if anyone was packing up early. His policy was always that the bell would never dismiss you, but he does. He wore one of his many polo t-shirts and had your average bright khaki pants that hung a little low. Mr. Kasper was all about having a clean appearance. His quotes always boomed throughout the class every morning.

Rowan had sat there, waiting for the bell to ring. Snow was expected as the other students near him sat in silence. Many of them are tired after a long, cold day of school. With that came studies and the potential idea of finding a part-time job to help invest in his family and hopefully make a comeback after what happened. His mind was bouncing from one idea to another. This was the same reason why he and most of his teachers were not on good terms. The only teacher who could understand his feelings was Mr. Kasper. Mr. Kasper had understood the problem Rowan and some other students had gone through. The incident that occurred when they were younger never left their heads. The only difference was that Rowan had a completely different perspective on it as a whole.

*Boooop*

"Alright, I'm feeling generous today," Mr. Kasper smiled. "Have a safe trip home. Do not go anywhere that's restricted."

The bell was the savior in many kids' ears. Rowan had packed up his belongings and quickly headed toward the door. Walking into a sea of students pushing and shoving as the overpopulated halls swayed from one side to another. The stench of perfume, cologne, and other remedies all combined into a gas lurking over everyone as bodies collided. Rowan pushed and shoved his way toward the staircase before running down, skipping steps, and skipping out toward the first floor of his high school.

"Rowan!" screamed a feminine voice behind him. "Something happening today?"

"Don't know what you mean," he responded. He had the tone of a tenor.

"For starters, you're one gloomy person," she said. "You haven't smiled in years."

"Do I need to smile?" Rowan scoffed. His facial expression was as neutral as ever.

"What happened to the wide smile we all knew?" she laughed. This girl's name was Hanna Podolski. Her family moved from California just a few months after the incident. Hanna is Rowan's cousin, on his fathers side, but she treats him as if she were his older sister. Her hair was short, and her skin was pale, just like Rowan's. The black hair and black eyes' collaboration finish off her upper appearance. She was short, and that's what made her so mad about her appearance as a whole. Standing at 5'1", Hanna had to always fight through her challenges. She was the fifth child in a family of seven. Hanna didn't have many friends, and that was mainly because of her attitude.

"Why are you following me?" Rowan asked, "Go home, Hanna."

She stood behind him, pissed at his words. She still didn't understand what had happened to Rowan, but she wanted answers more than anything. As stated before, she saw herself as Rowan's older sister, even if they were the same age. She stood by his side. The only person she could trust was Rowan. Rowan told the truth, even if it hurt people. He has been cold ever since that day. His whole life changed in a flash, and it seemed like it was going to take a lot of mental warfare to get back to where he was. Back to when he was a happier child.

Both of them continued toward the main entrance, where more students had accumulated. Chatter and whispers erupted from the crowd as more and more people pushed outside the main doors and looked out onto the grass in front of the school. Three men in black suits had the crowd of students intrigued. Rowan and Hanna had moved through the crowd, sliding past people before exiting the swamp of students and moving alongside the sidewalk. They weren't interested in what the three men had to say, but the emblem on the right side of their suits indicated that they were part of the Special Environment and Safety Division.

"I wonder what they're up to?" asked Hanna. She kept looking back, seeing as not many students were walking away from what the three men were saying. Some students even looked out the window to get a better view.

"Doesn't matter now," Rowan replied. "I've got things to do, so I just want to get home as quickly as possible."

"So you do have things to do!" Hanna cried. "You liar, you unholy man!"

"I never said I didn't have anything to do," Rowan sighed.

Hanna had a disgusted look on her face. Which then turned into a snarky look. Since Rowan barely spoke about anything to anyone, she thought she could be his therapist. Her plan was simple and clear-cut. All she had to do was embrace the harsh words and traumatic experiences thrown at her, and she'd know everything about Rowan. She didn't realize how overprotective she was getting.

The streets were busy with all kinds of cars and pedestrians. Rowan took a subway home, stuffing into the overcrowded subway cars as he left Hanna standing on the platform. They don't live near each other, but she always knew his after-school routine. With that being said, the doors closed in her face as the subway jerked violently, causing people to sway back, knocking over each other. This happens often due to the cars pushing off one another. One of the many things that annoyed Rowan's daily travel to and from school. There were no available seats, so the long, cramped subway ride was in full effect. But this was an everyday occurrence.

Now, the home that Rowan lived in wasn't fancy. It was a one-bedroom, one-bathroom apartment in a small, populated area of Boston. His mother, who never worked after the incident, was a homebody. She'd also be scared to even venture outside the door to get the mail. Rowan also lived with his grandmother and the two siblings he loved the most. They lived on the third floor and were struggling but managing.

Rowan stepped off the subway and made his way out onto the quiet streets. The flurries in the sky danced down as he moved along the sidewalk. He had no music playing and wasn't looking at his phone. All he did was hum a tune that his father used to sing throughout the house they used to live in. Something about that tune is what kept him and his siblings sane enough to endure the life they were living.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

*Kng Krrrrr*

"I'm home," he announced.

"Hi Rowan," greeted his younger sister Maeve. Maeve was eleven years old and had curly black hair. She is blind in her right eye and suffers from PTSD. She dislikes their mother and only listens to Rowan whenever anyone tells her to do something in their family. Maeve also helps their grandmother out since she goes to school closer and leaves earlier than Rowan.

"Did you eat anything?" Rowan asked. "Where's mom?"

"No, I didn't eat anything," Maeve replied. She sat on the couch, watching her favorite show, as their grandmother watched alongside. She could speak, but chose not to.

"And the other question I asked?" Rowan said.

"In her room, crawled up like a ball!" Maeve shouted.

"No screaming, May May," their grandmother said.

"Why don't you help me make some spaghetti and meat sauce?" Rowan asked. He put his bag down and took his shoes off before venturing further into their small apartment. Maeve hopped over the couch and slid into the kitchen as the two of them cooked and smiled. Their grandmother was also happy with them getting along. The same couldn't be said about her daughter in the other room.

"When do you have to go?" Maeve asked.

"Go?" Rowan said. "Go where?"

"Therapy," she said. "I know you leave late and come back very late."

Rowan looked down at his sister, who had been washing the dishes. She was humming the same tune he was humming as he was walking home. She didn't look at him, but she knew he was looking at her.

"Um," Rowan couldn't fully speak. He couldn't even think of an excuse. Still, his sister didn't bash him for keeping a secret. She only wanted what was best for him.

"When is the therapy?" she asked. "I want to come."

"You can't," Rowan said. "You won't get it."

"Says who?" she asked. This time, she stopped scrubbing a plate and looked at him. She had no tears, but her brown eyes were getting dimmer and dimmer by the second.

Rowan could tell when his sister was serious. Her eyes would dim, and she'd have a neutral expression that was unchangeable.

"We speak about things that would put you in a fight or flight situation," Rowan explained. "You just wouldn't stay put."

"I will," Maeve replied. "I want to change too. I want to relax without having to worry, and I'm still a kid!"

Rowan thought about it. Realizing that his mother rarely cared about what they did. The person that would need convincing would be their grandmother, who was watching a show on the TV and could partially hear the conversation happening in the kitchen. She had been knitting something unrecognizable. Both Rowan and Maeve looked at her from the kitchen entrance.

"Wait here," Rowan told her. He walked out of the kitchen and spoke only a few seconds with his grandmother before walking back to the kitchen and nodding his head in approval.

Maeve smiled while continuing to clean the dishes and preparing for dinner. Her feet were dancing on the white tiled floor in their small kitchen. Her skin was getting pale from the cold drifts that would occasionally enter through the unsealed kitchen window. She still kept dancing with joy as the pictures of their family hung high behind them.

Once the food was ready, the three of them enjoyed it sitting around the TV. Rowan prepped food for his mother, who was still in her dark room, curled up on the mattress. He put her food on top of the dresser in hopes that she'd eat it. But most of the time, it would go to waste.

After everyone had eaten, the dishes were once again cleaned. Rowan and his sister departed their house as the snow fell more and more. Their grandmother was properly put to sleep before they departed too. It was 8:42 p.m. when they left. Maeve wondered what place was open around this time, but Rowan didn't answer many of her questions. Both were bundled up in heavy winter coats as wind chills were forecast. They ventured onward until they got to a building with its lights still on. Entering through glass doors, a receptionist, who already knew Rowan, ushered the two directly toward the room they would be in. Maeve had been very skeptical and was on high alert. She clung onto Rowan as the two walked into a white and blue room with a couch and two chairs adjacent to it.

"Take a seat. She'll be here shortly," said the receptionist.

Once the door shut, the room became quiet and warm.

"You alright, Maeve?" Rowan asked.

"Uhuh," she replied.

They waited a few minutes before the door opened again. The therapist was a tall, skinny woman with brown hair. She was white and had some wrinkles to show that she was an older woman. She wore glasses and was dressed up in business casual attire.

"Rowan, welcome back," she said. "As always, thank you for showing up this late."

"Ex-excuse me!" asked Maeve. "I don't know what this is about. But I kept thinking and wondering. How is Rowan affording a therapist?"

The woman chuckled before smiling. She reached out her hand and introduced herself. "My name is Shane Munster. You must be Maeve. I'll explain things without breaking our confidential pack."

"Don't worry, Mrs. Munster," Rowan said. "Let her know everything."

"Understood," she continued. "Well, Maeve, your brother here has been going through some difficult things in regards to the incident that happened a few years ago. Still, he tries his hardest to understand everything. You had concerns in regards to money. Do not worry, because this is all free of charge. I, too, was a part of the incident that happened a few years ago. I also know you were too, as to how you've become blind in your right eye. The same reason why your brain doesn't fully function as quickly as it did before. This is a safe place. You can ask anything and do as you please. Rowan has gone off and cursed at me, restrained himself even. One of the many reasons he chose me as a therapist was because of the abilities I hold that can put him back in that same situation, finding solutions."

"Same situation?" Maeve asked. "You have a supernatural ability?"

Rowan side-eyed his sister, thinking of what her next move would be.

"Yes," Mrs. Munster smiled. "And so does the receptionist. You want to know something?"

"Yes," Maeve answered.

"You two both have abilities too," she smiled. "But we'll have to go back to that day. So if you would also like to take part in this Maeve, I recommend you hold onto Rowan. Do not worry, Maeve, this won't sting or hurt."

"Wait!" Maeve cried. "I never... Sorry, I promised myself I wanted to change."

Mrs. Munster smiled before coming close to both of them and putting their heads together while closing their eyes. The therapy session was in progress. Any disturbance would be a nuisance.