Death is the Key To Power

CHAPTER ONE: I am a Sinner.

The pale Michigan winter sunlight crept through the blinds of the window and cast upon a sleeping teenager. His chocolate-colored skin indicated that he was of Latino origin or possibly even Caribbean. He had a messy mop of curls and snored rather loudly. His shirt was slightly pulled up from the constant moving around in his sleep, and he was sprawled out on his twin bed by the wall.
The teenage boy slept peacefully on his bed until he was awoken by the annoying sound of his blaring alarm by his bed.

He jumped up in surprise and rubbed his eyes as he glanced over to the alarm. He slammed the snooze button and laid back down. "Stupid alarm." He muttered quietly. All the boy wanted was some rest. Which, he certainly wouldn't be getting right now.
A pale brown older woman stormed into the room, kicking open the door. She wore an apron and had her hair tied up in a bun. She spoke with a clear Puerto Rican accent, "Despierte Fernando!" This made it clear that she was the teenage boy's mother. That teenage boy was Fernando Gabriel Castillo Ayala.

Fernando groaned loudly and sat up in bed. "Ayy, pero mami-" He was cut off by a slap to his mouth by his mother. He immediately obeyed her after that and got off the bed as she exited the room.
He looked down at his packed bags on the floor, and face palmed. His whole life was practically packed into some measly bags, it felt like moving houses but worse because he didn't have a choice in the decision. It was just...stupid.

Fernando walked over to his mirror and looked at himself. He looked horrible, having just awakened from his short slumber. His mid-length curls were disheveled, reaching up to his neck. He had visible bags under his eyes, a sign of how little sleep he'd gotten. He couldn't sleep the previous night, he was dreading having to leave the only place he had ever known, Detroit.

He sighed and looked away from his reflection in the mirror. He grabbed the only folded clothes on the floor and started to dress himself. Due to the harsh Michigan winter, he wore a pair of dark gray sweatpants and a flannel shirt that consisted of the colors navy blue, black, and white. He zipped up his black winter puffer coat and rubbed his eyes. He then slipped on black winter gloves.  He stared at his eye bags in the reflection. He sighed and hoped he would be able to get some sleep during the long drive.

Fernando walked down the stairs, the smell of the typical Guatemalan breakfast he'd had for the past 15 years of his life filling the air. He smiled slightly at the familiar smell, enjoying it one last time. At least he would have a nice breakfast before he left.
His nice moment was interrupted by his mother, who had started shouting at him to set up the table. Fernando groaned but set up the table anyway.

Though he was going to leave, he did not want to get into any trouble with his dear mother. Fernando then seated himself at the table beside his father, who was reading the weekly newspaper. His father made no attempt at even speaking with his own son, nor did Fernando with his own father.

None of them spared the other a glance. Fernando just looked down and counted the number of lines that were imprinted onto the traditional table entirely made of wood. He straightened himself up in front of his father, but continued counting.
Fernando's mother brought breakfast into the dining room and placed plates in front of the two males. Fernando immediately started to dig in, knowing he was already a disappointment enough and that his parents' scolding wouldn't do anything to him now. He didn't care if he had table manners or not, it's not like he mattered now. He wouldn't even be here long enough to deal with a severe punishment.

But, his parents didn't say anything about his eating habits at the dining table that morning, unlike every other morning when they ate breakfast together. Today was unusual, most likely due to Fernando's leaving for boarding school in just over an hour. The table was silent, and none of his parents had chosen to watch television that morning. This just made the situation even more quiet and awkward, which was something Fernando hated.