Ethan tossed and turned in his bed, drenched in sweat, the remnants of nightmares clinging to him like shadows. Each time he closed his eyes, he was transported back to that suffocating house, the laughter of his cousins morphing into cruel taunts. He could almost hear Clara's piercing voice cutting through the darkness, a constant reminder of the hell he had endured.
In the nightmare, he was a child again, small and vulnerable, cornered by his relatives who reveled in his fear. The memory of their laughter echoed around him, a haunting melody filled with malice. He could feel the stinging slaps from his aunt and the mocking laughter of his cousins as they told him he was worthless, just an unwanted burden.
“Ethan, you’ll never be anything!” they jeered, their faces contorted with glee. He tried to escape, but the walls closed in, suffocating him, reminding him of the days when he felt truly alone.
With a gasp, he shot up in bed, his heart racing, the familiar feelings of dread washing over him. Sweat dripped from his brow, and he fought to steady his breathing. Not again, he thought, anger bubbling beneath the surface. He didn’t want to be that scared boy anymore.
Shaking off the remnants of sleep, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, his feet touching the cool floor. He needed to shake this off, to forget the nightmares and face the day ahead.
After a quick change, he headed downstairs, following the sound of his friends' voices drifting from the kitchen.
The moment he entered, Julian was already in the middle of one of his ridiculous rants, his arms flailing dramatically. "I’m telling you, guys, if we ever face mutant, fire-breathing chickens, I’m your man. I’ve got a strategy.”
Gabriel rolled his eyes, sipping from his coffee. "Julian, you’re not even good with normal chickens, let alone mutant ones."
Julian huffed, crossing his arms. "You just wait. One day, we’ll be facing a poultry apocalypse, and you’ll thank me."
Alexander, sitting with his tablet, raised an eyebrow without looking up. “Statistically, the probability of mutant, fire-breathing chickens existing is—”
“Zero. It’s zero, Alex,” Lucas interrupted, laughing. “But hey, I’d pay good money to see Julian get roasted by one.”
Ethan laughed and said," You guys are absolutely ridiculous "
Everyone smiled warmly at the site , it was rare to see Ethan laugh but whenever he did it bought warmth to their hearts.
"Welcome to the best breakfast joint in town!” Gabriel announced dramatically, earning an eye roll from Alexander.
“More like the only breakfast joint,” Alexander quipped, glancing up with a smirk. “And don’t burn the pancakes this time, Julian.”
“Hey! These pancakes are a work of art!” Julian replied, puffing out his chest. “I’ll have you know I’ve mastered the perfect flip.”
Ethan chuckled, the tension in his chest easing slightly as he joined them. Lucas slid into the kitchen behind him, pouring himself a glass of orange juice. “What’s cooking? Hope it’s not burnt again.”
“Not if I can help it!” Julian exclaimed, dramatically flipping another pancake that somehow landed perfectly on the plate.
“Impressive,” Ethan said, grabbing a plate and piling it high. “I didn’t know you had culinary skills, Julian.”
“Skills? I’m a culinary genius!” Julian replied with a grin, puffing out his chest.
Ethan couldn’t help but smile. Their usual morning banter was infectious, and despite the nightmares lingering at the back of his mind, being with them felt like home. He sat down and reached for the pancake as the conversation continued spiraling into absurdity. At some point, Gabriel challenged Julian to actually find a chicken to train, promising he’d eat it if Julian could make it breathe fire.
