𝐒𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐬𝐦

1

But, father, I need that job!"

"Then go find some other one! You're going to ruin our reputation with your- with tha- that ridiculous white hat of yours!"

"I want to be useful for the society!"

"And I wanted to have a normal son, but, apparently, dreams don't always come true, kiddo."

The young man sighed and looked down. Maybe his father was right, after all. That hat did look ridiculous, especially when it only made his ears look bigger and saggier. He looked at that miserable hat that was lying on the table, gulped and looked up in his father's eyes, trying to hold back his tears.

"Father, we're starving. At this point I'm able to count Bennett's ribs without even looking at his chest, by just roaming my finger around. I feel like crying every time I hear his tiny noises that are caused by his stomachache."

The father seemed to get impatient with the 19 year old. He gritted his teeth.

"You won't be working there, it's an order."

"But-"

"I said that it's an order."

"I-"

"GO TO YOUR ROOM AND DON'T COME BACK HERE!"

The young lad clenched his fists, rushed to his room and closed the door quietly so he wouldn't get into trouble for shutting it. He leaned on the door, slid down and put his hands on his legs.

"Where did I go wrong?" he thought.

Everything seemed wrong at that moment. The color of the sky seemed wrong as well. He got up from his place, wiped his barely leaked tears and looked through his window.

Red.

The sky was painted red.

It wasn't the same sky that he was looking up at as a child. The naive five year old him would never even think about the colors of the sky that weren't usual. He just kept looking up, without noticing anything.

As he grew older he realized that every little detail is important. Just like the blood marks that he spotted in the bathroom after his mom got out of it.

Francis sighed while still looking at the sky, thinking about the things he did wrong.

The biggest regret he ever felt was not noticing the way his mother would silently sob at nights while reading her favorite book. She would always talk about it. Francis didn't remember the name but remembered the part that his mother would always read out loud for him.

"The meaning of life is trying to find the meaning of it. You'll get into adventures, troubles, meet new people, find new hobbies when trying to figure out the reason of your existence. Life's short so remember to enjoy it to the fullest."

His mom was such a hypocrite for reading it all wholeheartedly yet taking her own life, leaving her 9 year old and the newborn sons alone.

Yes, alone. The person whom the kids would refer as "dad" is no longer there. There's only the cold-hearted, neglecting and nonchalant "father" that wouldn't even let his oldest son provide for their family. Francis still didn't understand the reason behind it.

Suddenly Francis felt something inside of him, something that was located deep within him.

Hunger.

It was hunger. He hasn't really had anything the past few days.

Or maybe it was the guilt of not being able to save his own mother.