**Edited on 8/28/18**

The bell at the end of the day had barely started ringing, but Darren was already out of his seat and flying out the door. His back pack was heavy with books and the hidden RMR System tucked safely in the bottom, but Darren slung the bag over his shoulder as though the weight meant nothing. He flew through the school going as fast as his feet could carry him. 

He was heading home.

The Karofski house was less than a mile from Darren's private school, but Darren usually lagged behind the other students before making the trek on foot. Darren learned the hard way that if the others saw him walking back to his home on foot, he usually was the target of trash being thrown from the car, or anonymous shouts about his appearance, weight, and poverty. So, it was easier for Darren to hide out in the library for 20 minutes or so before heading home and let everyone else leave first.

And it's not like he was needed at home right away anyway. His siblings still went to public school and did not get off of the bus until 4:10. On top of that, his parents were getting ready to head out to their second jobs and would barely notice if he was early or late.

But today Darren was not thinking about avoiding people after school. He was not thinking about his siblings. He was thinking about the amazing world that he could not wait to dive into. 

Darren ran through the school, dodging other students as he did. 

"Hey!" someone yelled at him as he flew past.

"Watch it, bud," another person growled angrily.

Out of the corner of his eye, Darren had seen Mark Rosenbaum and his crew watching him carefully. But Darren did not care. He barely heard Mark scoff, "Watch Brokeski run!"

“There must be a sale at the dollar store,” Chad Barrett, Mark’s friend with the shortly cropped dark hair scoffed.

But none of that mattered. Not when Rimnir was calling.

With flying feet, Darren took off from the front door of the school and down the parking lot and around the corner. About a block away from the school, he cut through a boarded-up lot, squeezing through holes in the fence to take the shortcut that would knock 5 minutes off of his run. His exit on the other side was a swinging board in the almost perfectly mended fence, and it would spit Darren out within a short distance of his home.

Darren climbed through the hole in the fence and he grinned as he saw the run-down home that he lived in. The place was small, homely, and well kept, even if the outside needed a coat of paint and the roof was looking a little worn. Darren kept the grass mowed and on her days off, his mother loved to tend the flower beds that adorned the sides of the front stoop. Some of the railings on the fence surrounding their tiny property needed mending, but father was going to take care of that... At least, he would do it eventually. Darren’s father had not taken a day off from his two jobs in years.

As the teen neared the home, he lost himself to his brain and he tried to remember the last time that he had seen his parents. Living just outside of Washington DC was an expensive feat, meaning that his parents both had to work two full-time jobs to make ends meet. And with 5 kids at home to feed, making ends meet was tough. Darren was the oldest of the crew at 16. The rest would be along a little later after their bus arrived.

Darren was running at full speed up the walk toward the house, a stitch forming in his side as he ran and his glasses slipping down his nose, but nothing would stop him now. If he made it home quickly, he would have time to log on and explore Rimnir before the kids got in. And when the kids got in, Darren would be stuck cooking dinner, cleaning the house, and helping with homework before getting all 4 of his siblings in the bath and tucking them all in at night. 

It was not fair for the 16-year-old to have to do it all. But he couldn’t do anything else to help out.

Well, anything else other than Rimnir.

Darren ran up the stoop and burst through the front door.

"Who's there?" a startled voice cried out.

"Just me, Ma," Darren said breathlessly as he ran up to his room. 

"Oh, hey Darren!” Mom called out cheerfully to her son as he bound up the stairs.

Darren laid his backpack down on the bed gently as his chest heaved with deep breaths from running. He pulled the RMR System out and he stared at it. The box was black and sleek and shining in the warm light of his bedroom. A thin silver band adorned the outside and the letters "RMR" were embossed on the top. Darren's thick fingers traced the letters gently.

I could play for just a little bit, he thought gingerly, desperate to crack the silver seal on the outside of the box.

"How was school?"

His mother's voice broke through his thoughts. Darren sighed and set the unopened box gently on his desk. He would open it later.

Darren walked down the steps, his breath slowing as his heart stopped pounding so loudly. He found his parents flying around the kitchen, frantically packing dinners for the evening. 

"Hey," Darren said as he lowered himself into a wooden kitchen chair.

Dad leaned over and ruffled Darren's hair. "Hey, big guy. How was school?"

"Okay, I guess." Darren shifted uncomfortably in his chair, his shoulder still sore from making contact with the lockers. 

"How are the grades coming along?" Dad did not look up from the sandwiches he had hastily made.

Darren shrugged. "Fine. Our report cards came out two weeks ago."

"That's nice." Dad threw his sandwiches in his bag and kissed Mom on the cheek. "Gotta run, Alicia. Love you.”

"Bye, honey." Mom smiled at Dad for just a fleeting second.

Dad looked at Darren and he stopped. 

"It's good to see you, big bud," Dad said as he leaned over to ruffle Darren's hair. Darren grinned back at the sound of his childhood nickname. After that brief second, Dad took off out the front door in a rush to catch the bus to his evening job.

Mom turned and smiled at Darren. "How was school?"

Darren sighed. "Fine. I just told Dad it was fine."

"Oh," Mom looked back down at the container of carrots that she was packing, "I'm just a little distracted."

The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

"Yeah." Darren looked down at his shoes and he could feel something inside of him sink away slowly.

"I've got macaroni salad in the fridge for the kids," Mom said as she zipped up her bag, "Make sure they eat it."

"They hate macaroni salad, Mom," Darren said with a haughty sigh.

Mom stopped and raised an eyebrow at her eldest son. "What are you talking about? They love it!"

Darren thought back to the last time that Mom made macaroni salad and all he remembered was trashing it after the kids cried not to eat it. But then again, his parents would know those things if they were around more often. The teen fought hard to push that hot feeling of irritation down. But god, it was so easy to get angry at his parents for leaving them all like this.

"It’s fine, Mom. It will be fine,” Darren said as he rose to his feet, trying to steady his face.

His mother searched him for a moment, her eyes looking deep into his. She seemed to sigh happily for just a moment, and for Mom reached for her oldest and she gave his shoulders a hug. She squeezed him tight and said, "It's good to see you, honey."

Darren felt his insides warm and he could not stop the grin from forming on his face. His voice was gruff when he responded. "You, too."

"I've gotta run," Mom said as she pulled back. She grabbed her things and her keys. "Give the little kids hugs for me when they get in! I should be home by 11!”

“Okay..." Darren's voice faded as he watched his mother leave out the front door in a blur of uniform and tied back hair. 

It was the most that he had spoken to his parents in weeks. Usually, they were gone by the time he slowly made his way home. The house usually stood empty and cold every day. 

Maybe I need to run home more often, Darren thought to himself for just a moment.

Darren walked over to the window and he watched as the family's beat up car backed out of the driveway and took off, his mother off to her second job. Darren let out a hard sigh at the sight of the tires rolling away. The silence in the home began ringing in his ears, and he quickly turned on the television in the living room to keep it from encroaching around him.

The teen glanced at the clock on the wall. 3:25. Good. He had enough time before the kids got in.

Darren stomped back up the stairs to the little room that he shared with his brother Johnny. His mind was consumed with only one thing.

Rimnir.

He strode across the room and grabbed the RMR box. He snapped the silver seal with a flick of his thumbnail and pried the black lid off of the top. There, nestled in a bed of foam, was the headset and controller that he had been thinking about all day. He had saved up enough to get the base model. It was gray with a few exposed red wires and it almost looked like a beanie with goggles attached. A mic slid down from the top and could be moved onto the mouth or away. There were nicer models of the RMR system, ones that looked like helmets with sleep designs and modern functionality, like cooling technology to keep the player from getting overheated, but Darren did not need that. At least, not yet. He could work toward that later.

The coolest thing about the system was the way it immersed you in the game. It wasnt a full body suit that most games nowadays wanted you to play in. There were no gloves or shoes or belt or anything like that. No, the RMR system had a network inside of the helmet that it called the Neuro-Stimulation Network, or NSN. It was a series of electrodes that would stimulate the brain to make the player feel everything in the game. Going to the Glacier Shores in the far north? The player would feel cold. Going to The Junglelands in the south? The player would feel the hot, humid air.

Darren could not wait to feel herbs in his palm as he picked them from the ground. He could only imagine what it felt like to stir a cauldron... 

Darren quickly assembled the charging station and he plugged everything up, waiting the agonizing 15 minutes until the system was fully charged and ready to go. He paced around his room, thinking about the plan that he had formulated when he had first learned about the game.

"Okay," Darren said out loud as he paced, trying to keep his eyes off of the charging lights, "Okay, so... Make the character. Stay in the Consortium. Gather. Craft. Go to Veneah and sell..." 

Darren kept repeating his plan over and over as he walked around the small room, pacing the length between his bed and Johnny's and practically wearing a track into the thinning carpet. He glanced over. Two lights were shining on the RMR System. It was halfway charged. 

A loud bang from downstairs pulled Darren from his thoughts. His nervous excitement was replaced with a fast wave of irritation.

Damn it, they are home early, Darren thought irritably. 

"I do not care if you do not like it!" a voice shouted.

"Just leave me alone, Greg," a tinier, meeker voice replied.

The voices were interlaid with a cacophony of slamming book bags. Darren glanced back over at the system, which was still only charged to fifty percent, and he sighed. The younger kids had just gotten home and it sounded like Greg and Johnny were already fighting. Great. 

I love playing referee, Darren thought bitterly to himself as he watched the RMR system charge. 

Sometimes, Darren did not mind taking care of his siblings. Other times, he just desperately wanted to be a teenager with no responsibilities. Sometimes he wanted to run. Right now, he wanted to blow up.

"Darren?" a small voice called out.

"I'm coming, Billy,” Darren replied, trying desperately to swallow his feelings before his younger siblings caught on.

With one last glance back at the system, Darren felt forlorn as he left the room. God, if only he did not have to practically raise this gaggle of kids that his parents had ended up having after him... But there was no point in thinking that way. Darren was just doing his part now.

The 16-year-old headed down the stairs and found the living room in a pure state of chaos. Greg, the 10-year-old and the oldest of the younger kids, was sprawled out on Dad's favorite chair, tossing his roughed up, old football into the air. The thick and meaty kid was already a star on his pee-wee football team with ambitions to keep the sport alive into high school and college. 

Billy, the baby of the family clock in at 5 years old, ran to his oldest brother and threw his arms around Darren. The older boy smiled and hugged the younger one.

"I missed you, Darren!" Billy said happily with a smile on his young face.

Darren reached down and he ruffled the boy's white-blonde hair. He looked over at Steph, the 9-year-old only girl of the family, and she was doodling away in a notebook.

"Hey, Steph," Darren said, picking Mark up for a hug.

But Steph just rolled her big brown eyes. "I told you to call me Roxanne!"

Darren sighed and stopped himself from rolling his eyes back. Steph was a little bit spoiled from being the only girl in the family, and she had recently wanted to start going by her middle name. 

"Whatever," Darren said as he tossed Mark onto the couch, the youngest child laughing as he fell. "Where's Johnny?"

Steph shrugged and went back to doodling. Greg scoffed. "Who cares."

"I care," Darren said as he grabbed the football from the air with ease, "Where is he?"

Greg stood. At 10, he was already just a few inches shorter than Darren and he would tower over his older brother soon enough. "I don’t know. Give it back."

"Did he come home?" Darren asked, holding the football high above his head.

Greg jumped to try and reach it, but he failed. His face was reddening. He growled his reply at his older brother, "Yeah, he's somewhere. Now give it back!"

Darren tossed the football to the 10-year-old who took it and held it close. Greg mumbled under his breath as he took off toward the stairs and up to the room that he shared with Billy, "Ass."

"I heard that!"

"Don’t care!"

Darren looked around for Johnny as he listened to Greg's feet pound up the stairs, followed by the bedroom door slamming behind him. 

"Johnny?"

Darren walked the circle from the living room to the kitchen and back. But Johnny, the 7-year-old who was often overlooked in the crowded family, was not responding. 

Mark popped his head around the corner and he grinned. "He went upstairs, Darren."

Darren nodded at the baby of the family and headed on up to the room that he shared with Johnny. When he got there, he found the 7-year-old, looking thin and pale, like usual.

"Johnny? You alright, bud?"

But Johnny did not turn around to greet his older brother. Johnny's eyes were on something else.

They were on the RMR system.

"What is it?" Johnny's meek voice came out in a whisper.

Darren hesitated. He did not want the kids knowing about it because they would cry to play with it. And it had cost him over $600, his entire savings and then some. But Darren never kept anything from his siblings, let alone Johnny who looked up to him so much.

"It's... It's how I am going to help out the family."