“Atlas!”

The soft voice of my aunt woke me up. I looked around and found myself inside a medical office. In the corner of the white room sat a doctor, who exchanged a quick glance with my aunt before he spoke to me.

“Everything seems to be normal, you’re free to go,” he said. His slight hesitation before he spoke didn’t go unnoticed. I quizzically raised an eyebrow at him, but he avoided eye contact.

“Wait, aren’t you going to tell me why I passed out?” I asked.

“I’ll let your aunt explain. I already explained the diagnosis to her, since she’s registered as your primary caregiver.”

Aunt Claire quickly stood up and urged me to leave. The black feathers on her wings rustled as she twitched nervously. Her purple eyes pleaded for me to not ask questions, that she would explain everything on the way to her place, so I obliged.

As we walked through the airport, I uncomfortably shifted away from the stares directed at us. It was to be expected, since Aunt Claire really stood out in a crowd. I finally understood why people would tell me that my family was blessed with beauty. Mother was often compared to a delicate lily, quiet and graceful. If that was true, then Aunt Claire was a black rose; a mysterious, alluring and ethereal type of beauty. Next to her, I felt like an ugly duckling. 

When we reached the exit, she turned to me and smiled. Her flowy black hair fell gracefully against her wings, illuminated by the sun rays shining through the doors behind her. 

“Umm… You aren’t scared of heights, are you? Like, my license got suspended. Isn’t that so silly of me?”

In my mind, I rebuked Father for thinking that all would be okay with my aunt raising me. Truth be told, I hadn’t seen her since I was about five years old, but from what I remembered, she was a spoiled brat. Father had an underlying sense of guilt around his adoption, believing that he took Grandfather’s attention away from her as a child so he always made sure to treat her well. Unfortunately, Grandfather and Grandmother had the same idea, which led to me dangling from her arms as we flew to her place.

“So what did the doctor say happened?” I asked when we landed at her doorstep. She lived in a nice suburban neighborhood in West Vancouver, not too far from the beach. There was a hint of the ocean breeze lingering in the air, mixed with the fresh scent of pine needles.

Her hand froze on the doorknob. She stammered nervously before her eyes darted around, refusing to meet mine. Her mouth opened a few times, closing before any words escaped, as if she was trying to figure out how to dodge the topic.

“I saw someone,” I said, hoping it would prod some information out of her. “A young child, with blue hair and red eyes. He’s been showing up in my dreams, and when I saw the wall with the aquarium, my head started spinning. You know something about this, don't you?”

As she opened the door and let me in, she laughed and pointed out, “As if you aren’t a kid yourself.”

I could tell she was trying to dodge the question by the way she was obviously avoiding eye contact, as well as nervously laughing. I was suddenly thankful for Grandfather and Father spoiling her when she was younger. Because of her upbringing, she was a horrible liar. When I continued to pester her for answers, she cracked.

“Do you remember Asphodel?”

Her voice shook slightly. Whoever Asphodel was, she must have been close to him, because tears were starting to form at the edges of her eyes. For someone who was part of the entertainment industry, she was surprisingly easy to read. It wasn’t often that someone who was constantly under the eyes of the media would wear their heart on their sleeve. 

“Who’s that?” I asked.

She breathed a sigh of relief. When she didn’t respond to my question right away, I repeated myself with an annoyed edge to my voice.

“I guess you don’t remember, since you were so young,” she said. “When you were really small, you got into an accident. The one that left you with the scar on your chest?”

I looked down my shirt at my scar. It was a large scar running vertically down the middle of my chest. I had always been told it was an accident that ended with me needing surgery, but nobody ever gave me the specifics, and I didn’t remember much from that time, apart from meeting Akari shortly after my recovery.

“What does my accident have to do with this Asphodel character?”

“After the surgery, you would tell me about your imaginary friend. You named him Asphodel, after you got really into Greek mythology. According to little you, he had dark blue hair and red eyes, and was really mean, but he would ‘protect you from the bad guys.’”

“That doesn’t explain why I passed out, or why he’s been showing up in my dreams,” I said.

“The doctor said it was likely a coping mechanism your mind came up with to deal with the stress of your mom’s passing. Have you been sleeping well recently?” she asked with a sad look in her eyes.

“No,” I admitted.

She pulled me into a tight hug, folding her wings around me. Silence filled the air. I was a little taken aback from the sudden gesture, but I remained still. I’d be lying if I said I enjoyed affection from family members. Don’t get me wrong, it was definitely nice. It always filled me with a warm, fuzzy feeling. But that fuzzy feeling would soon fade into an empty static void, leaving me wondering if I truly deserved their love.

“I’m sorry,” she said, turning away from me with a sniffle. “I’m really sorry, Atlas. Your room is upstairs. I need a minute to calm down. Make yourself at home.”

My brow furrowed as I slipped my shoes off as I entered the house. It was roughly the same size as my old house, at least from the outside. In the foyer was a massive chandelier and a spiral staircase leading to the second floor. I wondered what she was apologizing for as I headed upstairs. 

There were four empty rooms on the second floor, not counting the bathroom. All four rooms were unfurnished, and the carpeted floors were flawless. There were zero markings and the coloring was consistent all the way through, as if nobody had even set foot in the rooms. Come to think of it, the entirety of the upstairs carpet was perfectly clean.

“There’s no bed in any of them!” I shouted downstairs.

“Just pick one and put your stuff down! Dad’s gonna come and move some furniture in there for you! We’ll go shopping in the meantime! The school year’s starting soon, so you need to adjust quickly!” she shouted back.

I set down my bag and walked back downstairs. There wasn’t much in my bag; it contained my phone, which was a hand-me-down from Father, some clothes, and a few framed photos of my time at the Academy. Father wanted me to bring more of my things with me, but there wasn’t anything I was particularly attached to back in America. 

My thoughts wandered aimlessly as I unpacked my stuff. I forgot to charge my phone on the flight, so I assumed it was dead. The sound of a text notification dinged from the bottom of my bag, alerting me to the fact that it was still on. I reached in and grabbed it. My heart grew heavier at the realization that only a few people ever texted me. 

I didn’t have a lot of friends back in New York, being giftless and all, but there was one person I regularly exchanged messages with, even though we lived only a few rooms apart. Confirming my suspicions, I unlocked my phone and saw the angry barrage of messages popping up on my lock screen. The messages appearing on my screen were sent from none other than the girl in my wallpaper, Akari.

i know ur reading this.

dont u even think about ghosting me, fucker.

respond.

respond.

respond.

please.

atlas.

I swallowed. My mouth was dry. My eyes stung. I can’t cry. I promised. I sighed as I hit the “Block Number” button on my phone. The force of my thumb against the screen felt like I’d be able to snap the device in half. I took another deep breath before heading downstairs.

Goodbye, my paradise. My mind flashed back to a manga series I read. There was a character who didn’t quite seem to fit in wherever he went, but his volleyball team provided him with a place of solace. The line was spoken when he lost his final volleyball match, preventing him from advancing to nationals, losing the one place he could freely be himself. It was a line that spoke to me more than ever before.

“Do you want a drink before we leave? There’s soda in the fridge! Feel free to grab one.” Aunt Claire said as she slipped on her shoes. I decided not to ask why she was wearing heels on a trip to the mall, or how she managed to do her makeup so quickly, so I thanked her and speedwalked to the fridge.

“Huh,” I mumbled to myself. “I guess she needed to go grocery shopping anyways.” I noted that the fridge was completely empty, apart from a few cans of beer and exactly one can of Sprite. 

As we soared through the sky, I tried to ignore the sense of foreboding that was beginning to creep up on me. I knew Aunt Claire was spoiled, but surely she ate real food, right? After all, she was a model and needed to stay on a healthy diet. 

Oh, how wrong I was. 

At the end of our shopping trip, we had purchased the following: School supplies, all of which were from the most expensive brands, some of which consisted of literal luxury brands; enough clothes to last me a lifetime, even though I told her that I would outgrow them soon enough; a futon, which took about thirty minutes of convincing her that I would be more comfortable without a bed; and finally, about an entire cart full of frozen foods. 

“Trust me, these taste really, really good!” Aunt Claire whined at the exit of the mall. “Don’t look at me like tha-a-at!” 

Just then, the realization dawned on me that we didn’t have a car.

“Aunt Claire, how are we going to bring all of this home?”

She tilted her head in confusion. “I’m going to carry it, of course.”

“So how exactly, are you going to carry all this,” I gestured at the bags that we collected. “while also carrying me?”

“Oh! Oopsies! That’s like, so silly of me, isn’t it?” Aunt Claire giggled. “How about you take the bus home? It’ll be a good chance for you to get familiar with the area!” 

“Are you kidding me? You do remember that I’m twelve right?”

I found myself silently cursing Father again. There was no way he looked me in the eye while we argued and told me with a straight face that Aunt Claire— No, just Claire, would be able to raise me. While she was technically my aunt, there was no way I was going to call her Aunt when she felt more like a spoiled older sister to me.

“It’ll be okay! Vicky told me that you’re really mature for your age! Plus, the 250 route takes you right to the beach! Think of it as the scenic route!”

My jaw dropped in disbelief that Claire would refer to Father, the most respected and most powerful hero of all time as “Vicky.” More surprising than that, was the fact that Father thought I was mature. 

I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose in exasperation. “I guess I don’t have another choice, then. See you back at the house.”

“Thanks, Atlas! Stay safe out there, okay?” Claire said before she took off.

After she left, I was left alone with my thoughts at the exit of the mall. I sighed, turning on my heel and trudging towards the bus station.

“If you thought I was mature,” I mumbled, hoping one of Father’s feathers was nearby. “then why did I have to move?”