"Fine! I fucking hate you anyways, you old--" The boy was cut off as his own father slammed the door in his face. So much for a calmer weekend.

Michael had never really gotten along with his father - that much was clear. Though, it only got worse after his mother died, and much worse after... the incident. How was he supposed to know the spring-thingie mechanism would literally close onto Evan's skull? It was just a prank.. right? No ulterior motives, just a supposedly harmless prank. One that still took his brother's life.

Michael sniffled and scrubbed away his tears, looking up from the front porch as rain hailed down. And with no umbrella and only his thin hoodie to cover him, he sighed and walked down the street. He walked aimlessly for a while, letting his hoodie soak in the cold evening rain. Who'd let me him crash at their place anyway? Who'd want a teen murderer on their couch? All his friends had blamed him and ignored him after the funeral. All of them... except one.

His formely dull eyes brightened with hope as he picked up the pace, almost sprinting to their house. Surely they'd.. let him inside? Even for a couple moments.