Red Light

Sleep

Despite his headache, or perhaps because of it, Meng Yao just couldn't stay awake. He crawled up on the examination bed, curled up and sank into sleep.

It took a few moments to realize where he was. There was a slender, delicate-looking boy in front of him. Eyes red and puffy from crying, he was clutching a picture frame to his chest. At his feet were two small boxes and a suitcase. He was standing in an expansive foyer with expensive decor.

He felt totally out of place.

In front of him were a man and a woman. Neither looked happy to see him. The silence was large. Awkward.

The boy cleared his throat.

"Are you really my fath-" The word wasn't completed. Meng Yao closed his eyes. He had felt it once. He didn't want to watch it. From the darkness, he heard the slap that had almost put him on the floor.

"You are never to call him that!! 'Father' is reserved for my sons. His real children. Not his bastard!" she had shrieked. "You may call him sir."

After shooting Jin Guangshan a venom-filled stare, Madame Jin had stomped off in a fury.

His mother had been dead two days.

And that was how his life in the Jin household had begun.

He watched his younger self climb the stairs in tears. Still clutching the picture of him and his mother.

The dream suddenly leapt forward at a dizzying speed as his life with the Jin replayed. Exclusion summed it up well. Him being sent to his room to study the minute his dinner was done so he would 'be of some use some day'.

If there were guests, he ate in the kitchen with the staff.

They were one of the few blessings. They tried to fill in the gaps in his life where they could. Cookies snuck in during his study hours. The butlers that had helped him with his homework. The maids who had helped him with his hurts when he couldn't get away from Jin Zixun.

Being near Jin Zixun meant pain. Pinches. Trips. Slaps when he thought he could get away with it. The shove down the stairs that broke his foot. He learned over time the quieter he was when he got hurt, the less Jin Zixun hurt him. He didn't know why but it worked.

The adult Meng Yao watched as his younger self endured the abuse that was ignored by Madame Jin and Jin Guangshan.

They told the few who knew of him he was a clumsy child. Sickly. It provided an excuse to hide him away from the world.

Jin Zixuan tried to be an older brother but his mother did everything she could to keep him away from Meng Yao. 

Madame Jin had died when he was nineteen.  As horrible as it sounded, all he had felt was relief.

Meng Yao knew he was dreaming. Consciously, he turned and walked away from the pain and the hurt.

Now it was just him in the darkness.

'This is pathetic.' he thought. "I can only dream of the bad things? Without it I have nothing?'

With a surge forward, he raced through a hall of images. He was in every scene. Laughing over dinner with someone. Decorating a Christmas tree. Working with a genuine smile. Kissing a tall man. Talking to his brother and sister-in-law. All of the images, even if they were blurred in their speed made him feel happy.

The last picture was just a person's eyes. A warm brown with amber highlights. Calm. Peaceful. Accepting. Loving.

Was it even possible someone could look at him that way?