Siren lay down onto the couch, his face aimed at the ceiling as he sighed loudly, exhaustion within his tired voice. The deep feeling of quietness consumed the area around him whole as he closed his eyes, pondering on the obscure fate his actions had led him to. The freedom of life was always an odd phenomenon to Siren, an unknown force born to guide others toward this plane of happiness, only for another trial to block its path, leading them astray as they fall off the path of their supposed freedom. In truth, freedom is nearly impossible.
We live in a world where old men of the previous generation try to instill older methods of ruling to lead billions of people to a ''better life''. Not willing to understand that times have changed, and so have people. Failing to understand that we grow and develop faster than we can live, not giving people the chance to see humanity for what we truly are. Monsters. What the world likes to do is pretend that good people will stay good people in dire situations, when that isn't the case.
People put in dire situations more often than not, focus on their survival, putting themself before anyone else. Given the opportunity, if the consequence of laws didn't hold people back, millions of them would've killed, stolen, and down heinous acts towards even their closest friends. People aren't good because we know how to be good; people pretend to be good to avoid consequences for what they truly are in their hearts. Maybe he would act just like that, ravaging for that forbidden urge.
A sigh came from Siren's mouth as he pulled out the bloody paper towel, throwing it into a nearby trash can as he rubbed the tip of his nose, taking a deep breath.
A ding came from the connected kitchen, as Siren glanced behind him, checking the oven light to see if the preheating was finished, as he stood up and walked over towards the kitchen, washing his hands in the sink as suds of the soap stuck to the sides of the sink. He put on two mittens and grabbed the wrapped foil pan, carefully placing the large pan into the hot oven, the heat blowing in his face as he squinted at the cruel feeling in his eyes.
With a calm slam of the oven door, he smiled slightly, throwing the mittens on the counter to the side, walking back to the living room as the doorbell rang. He peeked through the glass at the side and unlocked the door, pulling back the small piece of wood from the lodge. Swinging the door open, a young woman walked in, an exhausted look on her face, as she collapsed onto the couch, her black hair matching her dark look. Black mascara, black lipstick, multiple ear piercings, and a nose piercing to boot. A total emo in its full glory. What else would he expect from his annoying older sister?
Siren sat next to her, copying her by laying his head back to look up at the ceiling once more.
"Rough day at work?" he asked, glancing at her with an intrigued look. The young woman nodded slowly, rubbing her face softly as she tilted her head to look at Siren, her red eyes staring at him.
"Very rough day. Jessica didn't call in, so I was left to restock all the shelves by myself. What happened to your nose?" she asked, tilting her head back towards the ceiling."
"Chase sucker punched me. Don't worry, I made sure to break his too," he said, a faint chuckle at the recollection of what happened. The young woman sniffed the air, her frown slowly grinning as she chuckled under her breath.
"Is that lasagna I smell?" She asked, a hint of interest in her voice. Siren smirked as he slowly nodded.
"Yup. Ana's staying the night, so I thought I'd fix something nice for all of us," he said, knowing that the sheer thought of Ana would make his sister's smile fade almost instantly.
"Ugh! Why does that bitch have to come to our home? She has her place to wreck!" she yelled out loud, flailing her arms around angrily. Siren chuckled at her angry expression as he covered his mouth, lifting up from the couch as he fell to the floor, laughing at her immature response.
"Stop laughing! It isn't even funny!" she whined as Siren rolled to his side, wheezing as he held his stomach.
"Y-You looked like a penguin!" he muttered as he smiled softly at her, his laughter steadily ending as a nod on the door caught their attention, the door slowly swinging open to see Ana. She walked in, holding a small bag as she gently held it in her hands, fiddling with the string that was attached to the blue paper bag. The two women locked eyes, a strong tension in the air as they glared at each other fiercely, little.
"Celeste. . ."
"Ana . . ." The two said each other's name, a tone of disdain coming from the two of them. For the longest time, Ana and Celeste have disliked each other, their reasons a mystery to Siren as he sits there, watching the quarrel commence.
"So... what's in the bag? Probably drugs, considering where you're from." Celeste said, sitting up straight, as she tilted her head, studying her carefully. Ana snickered, her eyes flaring slightly as she reached into the bag, throwing a pack of mints onto Celeste's lap.
"I figured you'd say that, considering I smelled your breath from outside. It's pathetic how a grown woman like you can match the way your breath smells. Black. Licorice," Ana claimed, a wicked grin appearing on her face, as her snowflake earrings swung with the confident tilt of her head. Celeste scoffed as she tossed the mint to the side, giving her the middle finger.
"Snow puff," Celeste replied. "Graveyard picker." Ana fired back. "Slushy maker!" Celeste yelled out. "Go jump you edgy bitch!" Ana shouted, gripping the back of her hand. "You go jump; you snow coned whore!" Celeste shouted out as she tossed a pillow at her face. The tension was high as the two nearly snarled at each other as Siren stood up and walked away, entering the kitchen as he opened the oven, gently putting on a mitten and lifting to see the dark brown crisp of the cheese, oozing off the foil as it gently falls back onto the pan, the scent of fresh herbs whispering sweet nothings to his nose.
With a satisfied smile, he pulled out the pan, gently placing it on the counter, watching as the heat radiated off the pan with such dangerous force. Hearing their squabble continuing, Siren walked back over towards the living room, pinching his sister's ear, tugging hard.
"Alright, that's enough out of you two, go wash your hands," Siren said, tugging a little more as he gave Ana a passive-aggressive smile, trying to hold back his disappointment in the two.
They were always a part of him; maybe that's why they've always continued to act that way, regardless of what Siren said. Celeste has always been there for him, guiding him to be better than their mother ever was. That's why she works so hard, knowing that she was in their blood, which left a bitter feeling in her soul. Maybe Celeste thought that she'd end up like their mother, absent and broken from their father's death.
Sam Thompson, the prodigy of the previous generation, is a genius in the arts of magic and bioengineering. At age fourteen, he had conquered the sun's natural heat, exploring its core for the first time, at age twenty, he discovered a method of enhancing a human's ability to heal naturally, without the use of magic, and by age twenty- two, he had his first child, Celeste. After having her, he ended up quitting his bio-engineering career, choosing to live a much more peaceful life as a stay-at-home dad. However, when Siren was around five, he suddenly got back to work, only for his laboratory to explode, along with everyone inside it.
Their mother, Charlotte Thompson, was a child of war, forced to participate in the war against the elves due to the recency of magic being most prominent in children, due to their exceptional creativity and more natural understanding of it. Those children were forced into risking their lives to fight for a home they had hardly lived in, and to make it worse, the government made them execute every elf in that forest, woman, child, it didn't matter. And when the deed was done, the citizens of America made the children pay the price. They weren't even considered people anymore, instead, they were called ''The Devils of New''.
Being the younger of the two, Siren always had a higher expectation to live up to, having an prominent ability to deduct most things thrown at him, and with his magic, he is expected to lead his generation to greatness, but he found that ridiculous that a child could take millions of kids from being average to exceptional was beyond delusional. What he did find possible was giving kids the chance to shine, which is what led him to Ana.
He had found her alone, drenched in the rain's cruel force, left to drown in her tears. Seeing her so alone gave him a bitter feeling, so he gave her his umbrella, and it was all uphill since helping her get her apartment, a job to make a decent income, she wasn't alone anymore, because she had him to help her through this hellish place. Her being an Ice Elf (Different from a regular elf) made it tougher. Elves have a unique structure within them. All elves start as regular elves, but through emotional or physical distress, they change into a different type of elf. If a young elf couldn't overcome their hormones, they'd become ice elves, forced to bear the curse of having an uncontrollable amount of pheromones in their system. If an elf couldn't overcome their darkest time, they'd be plunged into darkness, forced to succumb to their dreadful feelings.
With a heavy sigh, he scooped up the pieces of the lasagna and gently placed them on plates, setting the table. Within a matter of moments, the scent of the lasagna had the two into a frenzy as they quickly took their seats, eating up the sauced-up noodle as if they had never had a meal before in their life. Deep down, it made Siren happy that they appreciated the fact that they enjoyed his cooking. It made him feel much better about the loneliness in his heart. That aching feeling that after high school, he may never see any of them ever again. After what felt like hours of neither one of them breathing, Celeste muttered, swallowing her food as her fork was now covered in black lipstick.
"So, Siren, are you going to prom tomorrow night?" she asked, quickly getting a bite of her food before another word was spoken. Just as the word prom left her mouth, Ana's ears began fluttering again, as she paused on her eating.
"No, I probably won't be going," he muttered, glancing over to see her ears droop down again, as she went back to eating. Celeste's eyes widened as the clinking sound of her dropping her fork onto her plate was heard as she leaned up, glancing at Siren in confusion.
"Why? We have the money," she asked, swallowing her food as she stared Siren down,
"I don't know, I just don't feel like wearing a fancy suit and all that,"
"For a smart guy like yourself Si, you're a dumbass,"
"Fuck you too then," a soft chuckle escaped from Ana's mouth at Siren's comment, the two siblings glancing at her with a growing smile on both their faces. Despite all the arguing that goes on with the group, it's always a great time at the end of the day, even if their parents aren't around to join in on the fun. It was their own family, one with all the fun and none of the accountability.
"Fine... I'll go to prom, but only because you guys keep nagging me about it," Siren claimed. Without even a moment after saying that, the two practically jumped up, cheering as Ana yanked Siren out of his chair, pulling him out the door.
"No time to waste then! We got to find matching outfits!" she exclaimed, her ears fluttering faster than ever, her smile wide, as her eyes were filled with excitement.
"W-Wait! I thought you didn't want to go to prom?" Siren asked, trying to stop her from pulling him, but her strength was too great, dragging him despite his stepping back.
"I have no idea what you're talking about. Anyways, see your goth reject!" She yelled out before slamming the door.
A mix of bitterness and joy filled Celeste's core as, watched her younger brother grow up so fast before her eyes.
"She's so hopelessly in love it's sickening," she said with a chuckle, as she sat back down, taking another bite out of the lasagna. That itch was back on her neck, as she scratched plenty, the itching never stopping. It stayed the itching, itching ever stronger, as even when she entertained the itch with the relentless scratching. It was like it was under her skin as she scratched harder.
" . . . It's getting worse." Itching, more itching, yet itching. . . Still itching.