firefly 𑁋 salvis.

XV

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His anxiety finally gets to him. Flashbacks from his dreams run through his mind as he sinks to the ground outside the doors of Addison Apartments. He can't breathe, tears are streaming down his face. Every time Travis tries to catch his breath, it's a failed attempt. All he can do is sit and heave and panic over his imminent death, even as the figure walks right past him without even catching a glimpse in his direction. He tries to calm himself down, tries to think rationally, but all he feels is fear. He doesn't want to die. He's not ready to die. Please, God, save me.

Suddenly the feeling's gone. He feels like an idiot, sitting in the parking lot with salty tears streaming down his face. Embarrassment burns through him as soon as the fear fizzles out. He wipes aggressively at his face even once the tears are gone. His eyes sting from the crying, and the rest of his face soon sparks up the same sensation from the aggressive rubbing. He's just glad no one saw him like this. That'd be even more embarrassing.

Travis stands from his place outside the doors, beginning to walk to his house. He just hopes the puffy redness will fade during his walk. He walks extra slow to give extra time for this to happen.

When he arrives at his house, his father's car is back. The anxiety sparks up again, but there's nothing he can do but face whatever's waiting for him in the house. The door's unlocked as usual, so he just enters, expecting to see his father waiting for him with anger on his face. Instead, Travis is greeted by people in robes. So many people. Too many to count. Their faces are carefully obscured by the hoods of the robes, so as to hide their identities. What's going on?

His father approaches in a matching robe, a dog mask in his hand. His hood is not up like everyone else's is, so Travis recognizes him instantly. He's sure that even if his father's hood was up, he would still recognize him. Kenneth Phelps walks with an air of confidence at all times, but this robe has increased that confidence tenfold. Travis swallows down the bile rising in his throat as his father places a hand on his shoulder.

"Travis, where have you been?" It feels like everyone's eyes are on the two, but when Travis takes a look around, everyone's minding their business. He looks back at his father, paranoia over the situation quickly eating him up inside. He has a million questions, but he can't bring himself to ask a single one. Travis bites at his lip, brows furrowing.

"Just.. Studying at the library." Suddenly, his father's raising his hand. Travis braces himself, ready for the blow that's surely about to hit. The hand lands on his back as his father laughs. This was the first time in a long time that Travis has seen his father in such good spirits. His brows furrow deeper. His teeth dig into the mauled skin of his bottom lip until the iron taste of blood spills into his mouth. The taste, accompanied by the pain in his lip, are grounding.

"That's my boy! Getting those grades up." Travis has to fight not to roll his eyes at the statement. Aside from math, he has amazing grades in his classes. All A's. He'd be the best in the class if it weren't for that nerdy homo, Todd. Not that Kenneth would ever know that, though. He couldn't care less for Travis' grades. He only pretended to care about Travis' bullying because Sal had to be hospitalized.

Travis laughs awkwardly, just to fit in with whatever was going on. He keeps his eyes on his father, an unsettled feeling taking up his entire being. The laughter between the two dies down. If it weren't for the ongoing abuse Travis has endured for years, this would be a normal encounter between a father and son. The two would never possibly have that, surely. Especially not in this moment, when they're surrounded by people obscured by shadows and robes.

"Go on up to your room, son. There's something waiting for you there. I'm sure you'll know what to do." Travis swallows thickly, nodding at his father's command. What could possibly be waiting for him? He was about to find out, he supposed. Travis turns on his heel, making his way up to his room. The door's ajar, open enough to know someone's been in there- but not enough to see what was waiting for him inside. He pushes the door open fully, bile rising in his throat as his eyes catch on his gift.

A robe. A long, black robe. He looks around, still feeling as though something is watching him- But coming up with nothing. Everyone else is still downstairs. As he steps a foot inside his room, his father's booming voice echoes up the stairs.

"Travis, I forgot. Dress nicely." Travis grimaces at the sound of his father's voice, even though the tone is kind. Dress nicely? Why does it matter? It's not like anyone is going to see it. Regardless, he does as told. Travis shuts his door behind him, dropping his backpack on his bed as he makes his way to his closet. He pulls out some of his church clothes- a purple polo and some khakis, with his dress shoes- And dresses himself in the clothes. Travis never wears his polo shirts, because you can see his scars in them. Not like it'll matter, though. The robe's long sleeved.

He walks over to his bed, eyeing the robe hesitantly for a moment. An ominous feeling radiates from the clothing, one that makes him feel sick to his stomach. That's silly, though. It's clothes. Clothes can't be bad, they can't be evil. This robe feels evil, though.

Travis slips the robe on overtop of his clothes. It's too big on him, but that's probably the point. Besides, he's extremely skinny for his age. The robes don't seem to be specially tailored for anyone wearing them, even his father. He snaps the clasp, looking at the symbol on it. It's one he's never seen before. Looking at it makes him feel even more nauseous, so he looks away.

He opens his bedroom door, standing in the doorway for a moment. A bad feeling rests heavily in his stomach. Yet, there's nothing Travis can do about it. He can't just say no to whatever his father has planned. He can't run away. He just has to do whatever's going to happen. He descends the stairs, against his better judgement.

Hopefully whatever it is, it goes by quickly.

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