Ostwall, Amissah, 10416 P.C.

Todd stared at the alarm clock on his desk across the room, the only light in the darkness that had fallen. The red numbers were glaring, counting down seconds, minutes, hours — how long had he been lying there? The clock said it was already past nine o'clock, so... a long time. He remembered the days when nine at night had seemed early, sleep still ages away as he had read a book or watched a movie with his dad. These days, it felt like the new midnight, a time when he should be asleep. The nights felt too short, the days too long; it felt like an eternity had passed since the night Michael had died. In true reality, it hadn't even been a week.

The grief lay heavy on Todd's chest. It was like a weight, an ache he couldn't throw off. He lay on his bed, letting the dull chains of apathy hold him down. He didn't want to move. He didn't want to think. He barely wanted to be alive.

Where had the days of happiness gone? He could remember them, barely, visions of laughter and smiles and fun now hazed over like the memory of a movie he had watched as a kid. He had had so many great times with his parents as a child. In fact, he couldn't remember a single bad thing that might have happened all throughout his childhood years. He and his best friend at the time, Lyle Simmons, used to be inseparable, playing baseball in the backyard or pretending to be secret agents. Their mothers had been so angry at them when the boys had discovered a way to get on the roofs of their houses. Both mothers had nearly had heart attacks when the two boys devised ways to climb into each other's bedroom windows — their houses had been so close together it hadn't been too hard to jump from one roof to the other. They had been forbidden to do so, but it hadn't stopped them. They learned to be quiet, stealthy, and clever. In the innocence of childhood, they had thought they would be best friends forever.

However, Lyle's family had moved away some eight years before, and Todd had since lost contact with him. The house next door had been empty for almost a full year before the Bowies moved in. Todd met Michael and Mikayla, the twins who would adopt him as their little brother — 'little' was used teasingly, for he was actually only two months younger than them. Seven years had come and gone in the blink of an eye, and he now wished for it all back. He'd do anything to have his parents and Michael back. Anything.

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But he knew they were gone. He'd never get them back.

The red numbers on the alarm clock blinked to nine-thirty. The alarm blared, exploding in Todd's ears like a siren and making him jump. Idiot, he thought bitterly as he forced himself off the bed. He had meant to set it for nine-thirty in the morning to remind him to leave for the meeting with the detective at ten. Apparently, he had mixed it up. He pushed the button to turn it off, but it continued to blast, loud and annoying. In an uncontrolled burst of frustration and anger, he grabbed the alarm clock and yanked it off the desk, ripping the plug out of the wall. Without much thought, he threw it across the room with all the fury within him. It smashed against the wall, denting the plaster and scattering pieces of plastic across the floor.

"What was that?" Henry roared from the other side of the house.

Todd didn't care to respond. He stood silently, staring at the ruined alarm clock, his heart racing from the scare it had given him. All at once he was very tired. He wanted to disappear and never come back.

"Todd? Are you okay?" Cathy was coming to his room to check on him. He didn't want to see her. He held the door as she tried to come in, and she pushed against him. "Todd, let me in."

"Go away."

"What was that crash?"

"Nothing. It's fine. Go away."

He heard her sigh through the door. "I love you. Don't forget it."

Todd let out a long breath and closed his eyes. He didn't respond, and after a long, quiet moment, he heard his sister leave.

Shuffling back to his bed, Todd crawled under his covers, too tired to change out of his clothes. Closing his eyes, he waited for sleep. Deep within him, he wished he'd hear the soft footsteps of his mother coming to kiss him goodnight, as she always had.

Of course, she never came.