I was awoken to the sound of a horrified gasp. Blinking my eyes slightly I moved my head from my mattress. In front of me sat my two parents, Julia and Ben Sims. My father Ben, had jet black hair, a trait that I had received. Sadly I inherited very few of his handsome features. His face was rough with his morning stubble which lead down to his butt chin. My mother suddenly erupted in a small cry of pain and she covered her face as the TV began blaring out news. Dad's bright green eyes shot directly too her and he quickly embraced her into a hug, doing his best to comfort her. Mom lifted her face from Dad's shoulder and glanced towards me with a fixed stare. Mom had a lot more softer features, since she was a girl after all. Her hair was a light brown, dyed several times to be darker and lighter on the tips. Tears continued to flow out of her hazel eyes as she and I stared at one another for several awkward seconds. I finally tuned enough out of my morning haziness and I rose to my feet and approached the TV. Spotting what had caused so much commotion from my parents, I stared expressionless at the words on the TV. The body of the young sixteen year old Bryan Ault was found today in front of the K.N.I.G.H.T headquarters.  Not much has been discussed about the way the death was carried out. Reporters have been very careful not to release any of the information. Stay tune to Civen city news for more on the matt- The TV suddenly shut off and I moved my eyes to see that Mom held the remote, clutching it to her chest. Bryan was dead? I couldn't even begin to comprehend the death of one of my closest friends. Who would even want to kill someone like Bryan? He was respectful, friendly, and very buff. Before I could analyze the situation any further, I felt a damp hand pull on my arm. I knew it was my mother before I even turned around to face her. Mom was still sitting down, but she was no longer looking at me, instead she faced the ground letting her tears fall into the carpet. My father stared at me with a curious look in his eye, like he was trying to dissect me from information just by looking at me. Did he suspect that I would be the one responsible for Bryan's death just because I hadn't began crying like my mother had?  I mentally shook that idea clean from my head. Dad wouldn't suspect me of doing something like that, he knew how my situation was with friends. When I had first moved to Civen, I was instantly harassed in school for being the new kid. Something that sounded so dumb you would have believed it to be out of a movie created by an adults views on school, except I was really living it. Bryan was the first one to stand up for me, to be my friend, and to actually hang out with me and keep the bullying away. I felt bad to think it, but without him around I had no protection from the bullies. My consciousness began to eat away at me as I realized how I had just viewed him, as a form of protection instead of a human being. Nausea began to sweep over me and I felt my vision getting fuzzy again. My legs began to wobble and before I knew it I was sprawled in front of my parents, my eyes closed shut. "Get him some water ill return him to his mattress." My dad spoke out in a calm tone. I felt strong hands lift me up and place me onto a soft but firm surface. I focused all of my energy on resisting to gag. Bile pushed its way through my throat and emerged into my mouth, distorting my regular taste buds. Swallowing the bile back down I rose to my feet and leaned on a wall for support. I had to go to school, missing the first day after winter break would be very bad for me. Both of my parents had left the room to try and find water and medicine to ease my inner pain. I instead knew the correct remedy for things like this. I simply stopped thinking about what I had saw on the news, and instead diverted my attention to finding a fresh set of clothes to wear for the first day. I began searching a neatly stacked pile beside my mattress mainly composed of jeans. I learned early on that money could not buy you happiness, I guess I had Bryan to thank for that.  Pulling my dark red pajama bottoms off, I quickly changed into the jeans and then grabbed a nearby t-shirt with one of my favorite knights on it, Elfin master of technology and AI. It was a collectors t-shirt that Bryan had bought for me when he first heard my dream of meeting Elfin and fighting alongside him. Bryan was tickled by the thought of a thirty year old man coming to visit a sixteen year old boy and train him, but I dreamed about it anyways. Bryan had always pictured me as the little brother he never had, someone he wanted to be there for.The memories were cut off from my mind as I heard the sound of my parents coming back down the stairs. I quickly moved to the apartments door and picked up my book bag. I felt bad leaving my family while they were upset, but what more could I do? Sit and mourn with them? No, I was determined to go out and take my mind off of things. Stepping outside of the apartment door I quickly slipped my shoes on. I began making my way towards the staircase leading to the bottom floor. The hallway to the stairs was extremely small, so I took extra care to try and space myself out from the doors of other rooms. Paradise, I was clearly living in it.I began to make my way down the staircase, refusing to touch the grease covered rails leading down. This apartment complex was unsanitary and unsafe to live in, yet nobody felt the need to check on the poor. My mother did her best to make this place seem like a real home, but it still ultimately failed in my own eyes. I began traveling down the stairs with a bit more speed as I realized that I would be late if I continued walking as slow as I was. I opened the small rusty door to the musky smelling lobby that was the first floor. Dark gray paint that had been chipped off of the wall in certain spots laid in piles . The putrid stench of smoke and musk filled every space in the room, leaving no safe haven for fresh air to linger. The remains of cigarette butts laid scattered around the room, most pressed down into the carpet while others were squished into walls. The apartment complex used to be one of the most well rated apartments in the entire city, until the gang The Pure took over the territory to expand their drug trafficking enterprise. Not longer after The Pure took over, the owner of the apartment quickly fell to the strong influence of drugs, which destroyed his life and turned him into a shell of his former self. I maneuvered around piles of garbage and made my way towards the front desk where the manager, Stephen Pendleton, stood smoking something that did not look like a cigarette. Stephen was around six three with bright orange hair that had looked like it hadn't been washed in weeks. Dirt and mud was pressed against his cheeks and forehead, staining his pale complexion with a darker glaze. Stephen's skin looked tight on his face, and it reassembled plastic wrapping that was tightly wrapped up. "Stephen, If my parents come looking for me tell them I headed off to school." I conserved my oxygen careful, using as little as possible to speak to Stephen, the last thing I wanted to do was intake the smoke right before I head off to school. Stephen stumbled forward a little and pushed down hard on the counter for support as he spoke, "Why woudeh be worried? Jus give them some of this blunt righ here. They will drop all worrehs." Stephen pulled the rolled up blunt from out of his mouth and motioned to it. The man was a clear sign of how far our area of town fell. Prior to turning to the drug life, Stephen had been one of the greatest lawyers in the city. He was admired and sought after by everyone who had heard of his work. As work slowed down due to the control the Knights put in, Stephen decided to focus more on running the apartment. Now he was a loser who was only playing with death now. Deciding I couldn't communicate off of one breath of oxygen, I took a deep breath and gagged from the toxic smoke. "No, I'm not giving them drugs. Just tell them that I went to school. If you do so maybe I will reward you with something." Stephen's eyes opened wide as I mentioned the mysterious reward. Licking his lips, he dropped the blunt on the ground in front of him and extinguished it with the bottom of his shoe. "Wha is tha reward?" he said, slurring his words as he spoke. His breath finally hit me. The smell of it was worse than the room itself, I gagged again. "Maybe  I will leave some money out for you when I get back from school. Then you can go and buy yourself food or something." "I will buh drugs." Stephen was always straightforward with whatever he said when he was high like this. I sighed and nodded, "Buy whatever you want, just make sure to tell them for me." Stephen grunted and then pulled out another blunt and began lighting it. This was the best my parents could do? Raise me in a city full of addicts. I was very grateful as fresh air from outside rushed to hit my face, filling my lungs with something better than smoke.I leaned against the door behind me and took in the fresh air for several minutes, as if it were my last time ever breathing it again. I pushed away from the door and began making my way down the small staircase as I began approaching the sidewalk. Trash along with animal feces was all around the staircase, tho larger clumps of it were on the stairs itself. As I descended down it I kicked away at the clumps to free my path down. It disgusted me how pathetic the city had become when The Pure arrived. Deep down I hoped to myself that the Knights would have brought more peace and balance to the city, but it seems even with their presence they can't even repel the thugs from murdering kids. I moved out of the alleyway where my apartment was buried in and I made my way to the sidewalk. Drug addicts stumbled around in the streets, either from being too drunk, or too strung out on their drugs. I concealed my look of disgust and started walking on the sidewalk towards where my school was. I had often wondered if the reason for our living quarters was based on my schools location. Would it have been more convenient for my mother and father to just have me walk to school instead of having to waste more of our precious money on gas?  As I contemplated the reasoning for moving into the hell hole I was in, more and more of the homeless began emerging out of alleyways. The stumbled about bringing shopping carts and smaller hand held bags with them while they roamed the streets looking for anything they could use. I picked up my pace not wanting to have the risk of being robbed. Up ahead of me, two of the hobos were fighting over a single white shoe. One of the two fighters was a large black man dressed in ripped jeans and a small cargo shirt that looked tight over his muscular body. He had a small white stubble on his chin from where he hadn't been shaving lately. His opponent was a skinny looking white guy who wore nothing but shorts. A crazed expression was on his face as he stared down the black guy. The two men stood apart from each other and continued glaring at one another. "I found this shoe first!" Yelled the black guy, moving a hand towards his back pocket. The white hobo seemed to have no response, instead he lunged for the shoe. In a swift motion the white hobo was sent flying onto his back with the black guy pushing down on his chest with is leg. A knife was now in his hand. Whatever crazed look that had been across the white mans face was no longer there. Instead it was replaced by pure fear. The two hobos glared at one another until a crowd began to form. I could tell by looking at the expressions on their faces that they wanted to see blood split. "Kill him." The crowd chanted surprising the black man. I watched as his expression changed from surprise to worry. He was now running the risk of denying the crowd its bloodthirsty and having them instead turn on him and kill him. I wanted to step forward and help stop this unnecessary bloodshed, but before I could do it the blade was coated in dark red blood. The white hobo began clawing at his open throat, as if he was attempting to stitch the wound back together with his fingers. The black man shook and dropped the knife to his side. He was clearly horrified by what he had just done. Sadly, the crowd wanted more than just a little blood to be shed. The audience quickly turned on the black hobo and pounced on him, using everything at their disposal in an attempt to kill him. I had always heard stories about how restless and ruthless the homeless had become, but I never expected to see so much sheer force for the first time. Blood was soon starting to stain the clothing of some of the participants. I quickly ran past the mob, praying that one of them wouldn't drag me into the middle of them so that I could be mauled down. When I was at least three blocks away from the site of the attack I stopped running. The area of town I had entered was much different from where I lived. This was where skyscrapers began to stretch up to the sky, like a beacon of the cities wealth. I never really viewed it like that, I saw it more like a border that divided us from them. Them being the rich of course. A deafening sonic boom signaled the arrival of one of the Knight's departing their HQ. I began searching the skies to see if I could spot the fuzzy image of one of the units moving out to cease violence in the city. A small red fuzzy shape streaked through the sky and began tumbling to where the hobos had been slaughtering one another. I immediately knew which Knight wore the dark red platted armour , Veniet, master of the skies. Veniet had been the first Knight to receive his powers at the age of fifteen, which made him one of the youngest Knight's alive. Veniet's abilities granted him the power of flight, a power that was greatly sought after by all of the big Knight corporations around the world. The power to react and get to situations as fast as possible was a must have for their companies. Not only had he been gifted with flight, but he was also given the power to create sonar waves from his mouth that could shift the mood of his opponent. The power of psychological warfare is what typically won him most of his battles. People were often insecure about themselves, or other situations that occur in their life, so they hide their darkest secrets inside. But when those secrets rise up, then their mental stability comes crashing down on them. Instead of turning around to watch the battle ensue between the hobos and one of the best Knights around, I felt myself unable to do anything but walk forward. I had heard that Veniet used a special device that transmitted waves that forced civilians to go the opposite direction from the battle, but I never actually thought it existed. Normally I would have been very excited about seeing one of the Knights three blocks away from me, but all I could feel was anger towards them for not saving Bryan. Not enough was done for my friend, and that sickened me. The sound of vibrating electricity and screaming hobos faded away as I got further and further away from the fighting. I found myself less than five minutes away from the school, not that it mattered tho, I was already late from when I stopped to watch the two men kill one another. I couldn't quiet figure out why I felt almost no feelings to what I had just saw done to the two homeless men. Perhaps I was going crazy? Or maybe it was that I was just so used to seeing death at a young age that it didn't affect me like it would have two or three years ago. My school was rather small compared to other schools in the city. A little over five hundred students attended it, most had come from the same kind of neighborhood as me, only they were as quiet as...introduced to the world around them. A large glass dome sat on top of the schools rooftop allowing sunlight to pour into the schools interior. The building had been made last second due to the overwhelming population boom in the city. I sighed and made my way towards the entrance of the school, making sure to place on my ID before entering. The school had placed up dumb rules, such as the ID wearing rule so that they could identify students and keep everyone safe. Their stupidity usually brought more than one smile onto my face, just knowing that if a student walked into he school with and ID and a gun we would still be in the same amount of danger if it was a random man walking in with no ID. I sighed and made my way to the front office. The ideas of death had been tugging at me since I woke up, maybe this was a sign that I was getting depressed? Eh not that anyone would care if I was anyways. The lady standing in the front office was around the age of thirty, your typical blonde headed dope. She wore a bright multicolored dress and had her hair in pigtails. Freckles polluted her right face, leaving the two sides of her face looking odd.  "Uh hello, my name is Jackson Sims, there was an issue going on and I lost track of time and got here late." The blonde haired lady frowned as I spoke and began typing away at her keyboard. I took this opportunity to examine the main office. Leather couches had been pressed against the walls next to small shelf's filled with books and pictures pertaining to the school. The walls had been colored baby blue to appeal to our cognitive senses and make us more alert. The receptionist's desk had been neatly arranged to separate different clumps of paper and work supplies. I peered past the receptionist to see a whole new hallway filled with doors leading to separate offices and teachers lounges. "Sims you said? How were you late today Mr.Sims?" The receptionist asked in a tone that told me she clearly didn't want to be talking to me right now. I sighed and tried to make eye contact with her before giving my response. It seemed that she was too engulfed into whatever was on her computer to even glance my way. "A group of homeless people began fighting in the streets. They blocked my path to school and I had to wait until the fighting finally finished." Not the total truth, but it would do for now. The receptionist nodded and then began typing rapidly, "A hobo fight? You sure its nothing to do with the death of Bryan Ault?" The words caught me off guard and penetrated my mental walls. I felt hurt that an adult like this would instantly press me about the death of one of my closest friends. I must have looked clearly hurt because the receptionist looked up and her brow suddenly knitted into a concerned expression. "Oh I'm sorry! I didn't realize you two were close. We have had several students come in late today because they were upset over his death. I was instructed to ask all late students if it had to deal with that young mans death." The receptionist offered a sad smile of sympathy before returning her vision back to her computer. "I'm alright." I managed to squeak out weakly. The receptionist nodded and began to rise to her feet, "You wouldn't mind describing the incident this morning to me? I just need to check in with the police to make sure this was a legitimate excuse." "Can I just go to class?" I pleaded feeling my stomach beginning to turn. The receptionist frowned and lifted up a small yellow piece of paper and placed it in front of us. "What class are you heading to Mr.Sims?" "Ms.Walms english class." The receptionist nodded to herself and slid the note over to me. Sure enough the note was directing me to go towards Ms.Walms. "You will need to fill out an online report about the incident that caused you to be late. I need it in by the end of the day or I will just have to mark you as late to your first period class." I nodded and turned to exit the main office. As I made my way up to the second floor of the school, I began mentally replacing my destroyed barriers in my head. I couldn't show how weak and vulnerable I really was to anyone again. Weakness would just cause me to have an even harder time today. The school as eerily quiet, besides the sound of a few caretakers to the yard outside. It was almost...Calming to me, to have complete silence. It made rebuilding my mental state all the more easier. I looked down at my feet and sighed at I looked at my shoes. New holes were starting to form on the top of the shoe from where the elements had weathered it away. I would have to beg to someone sooner or later to give me money so that I could go buy new shoes for myself, but for now that could wait, more pressing matters were at hand. I reached a hand back behind me and I began patting a small flap on my book bag to feel if my textbook was placed in there along with my journal. I smirked at my good luck and brought my hand back to my side, only, my hand never reached my side. I felt something tight clamp onto my arm and pull me backwards. The hands used my blindness as an advantage and quickly twisted my arm behind my back so that I was leaning forward looking at the ground in front of me. "Hello, Jack."