Rowan

I remember it as clearly as if it was yesterday, but anyone would. The lies and the fake smiles, my mum getting a little too dressed up, with the white gloves and the diamond earrings. And the painful amount of phone calls, my dad shut in his office speaking in whispers. Then it was time, the polite chit chat from my parents, the usual routine. Then they were gone and I was shut up with yet another babysitter, I had gone through hundreds. No babysitter lasted longer than two days at most, there was always something my parents didn't like about them. But this one lasted three, my parents hadn't come back. They told us not to ask questions, never to speak of this trip, for it was strictly for business. That was when I knew something was wrong.

I remember Carlos De Luca, everyone does. But no one speaks of him. No one speaks of the day he died, the day he broke. That day had burned into my brain, like a hot poker on my skin, it will heal but a scar will appear in its place. No one knows what it was like to lose him, no one knows how much I miss him. They don't even know that we were friends.

I remember every night when I came home to no one, my parents out once again, he was there. Always there, waiting behind the picket fence. But now I am alone. Some days I just sit, staring over the fence that separates Carlos's house from mine. Remembering his screams that no one else heard. His cries sending shivers up my spine.

I remember when we first met, his parents rich and overprotective, my parents poor and never there. Together we were safe, we were happy, we were not alone. At school though, we could not speak, a Poor could never speak with a Rich. It was the law and we just accepted it. But at home we shared everything with each other. Everything.

I remember the stories, the rumours, that some humans were mutants. We were all taught to be afraid of them, to hate them. They were a threat to human existence, but they were living among us. And that if we ever saw anything suspicious, we would need to report it to a Keeper immediately. Keepers, the evil liars. They told us they were good but if they were so good, then why did they kill Carlos?

I remember the fire. The fire that burnt down the school. The fire that ruined everything. That ruined Carlos.

I remember when Carlos told me, tears running down his face that he was broken, that he had ruined everything. That he had started the fire.

I remember wanting to tell him everything would be okay, that he was still my friend, that I still loved him. But I didn't. I wanted to hug him, to hold his hand. But I didn't. I just sat there, tears in my eyes, speechless. And I hate myself for it.

I remember the Keepers, dragging him away. Carlos wasn't even struggling, he had stopped fighting, he had accepted. He had accepted that he wasn't coming back. He had accepted that I wasn't going to do anything.

I remember that night, that night without him. I had cried. I had screamed. I had wrecked everything. And now Carlos was gone.

I remember him telling me the reason he was leaving, never to return. He had powers, fire powers.