Hazren lay awake in the darkness as he listened to the birds chirp outside. After his father Sirel put an air conditioner in his window, his room received no sunlight. He could hear voices upstairs. He hesitated, then stood up. He walked slowly over to his door and creaked it open just enough so the voices could become audible. It was his mother, Arelia; he could tell she was upset by the pitch of her voice.

He moved a little closer, only to meet a roar from his father. “Fuck you! Bitch! I pay these bills, not you!” He took a step back, even though he was a floor below. Arelia immediately snapped back, her tone sharp, which only fueled Sirel’s anger.

Hazren shut the door and felt a heaviness in his chest as he turned back toward his bed. He pretended not to hear the familiar sound of them bickering. I just need to sleep it off, he thought to himself, knowing the quiet wouldn’t last. Just before he could surrender to sleep, he saw the time on his phone.

“Fuck,” he whispered. “I have work soon.”

He took a quick shower, put on his work clothes, and headed upstairs. His parents were now in the kitchen, still going in circles over some benign issue. Hazren picked up his shoes where they always sat, in front of the basement door. He sat down in front of the TV and began putting them on when the channel suddenly changed without warning, cutting from a mediocre reality TV show to the news. The message seemed important, so he leaned a little closer to focus better.

There were two reporters: one was a middle-aged woman in a dress, and the other was a younger man in a suit and tie. They started talking about the conflict in Iran, to which Hazren grunted. “It’s always the same, fear-mongering crap,” he thought to himself.

But then the reporters went silent and looked almost shocked. The younger male reporter cleared his throat and said, “We have chilling new updates, folks…”

Before the reporter could finish, Arelia barged into the room. “I don’t care anymore,” Arelia yelled back into the kitchen as she plopped on the couch and changed the TV channel.

Hazren almost stopped her. Something about these reporters’ shocked faces on the screen made him feel uneasy, but he didn’t say anything. There’s always something crazy happening in the world, he thought to himself. It’s nothing new. 

Hazren tied his laces tight and firm and stood up from the couch. 

“You have work today?” Hazren looked down at the couch and saw his little sister. Saelis. She was wearing a black sweater and had her wired headphones in. Hazren hesitated before he answered, “Yeah, I do.”  

Hazren thought about how he had sat right next to her and hadn’t noticed her until she spoke. She had a tendency to hide in plain sight sometimes. Before Hazren could fall deeper into his thoughts, he felt his pocket vibrate and instinctively yanked his phone out of his work jeans. It was his brother calling. 

Hazren accepted the call and put the phone to his ear.

“Yeah?” said Hazren.

“Bro, you’re late, and the boss is losing her shit. Are you coming in today or not?” said Zorin, almost in a commanding tone.

Hazren and Zorin both worked at the same horse ranch as apprentice stablehands. Zorin never missed a shift, loved the money and the hours, and Hazren, well, he kind of just liked the horses, and he also valued sleeping in. 

“I’m on my way,” said Hazren with a robotic tone. 

Zorin didn’t answer him; he just hung up the phone. Hazren knew he was late, but work was only a five-minute walk, so he couldn't care less. 

“Gotta dip, fam,” he said as he reached out his hand to give Saelis a fist bump.

She slapped his hand and laughed. Hazren smirked at her and walked toward the back door in the kitchen.

Sirel was still sitting at the coffee table. He looked up at Hazren to say something, but Hazren cut him off.

“Leaving now, bye!” he shouted, so the whole house could hear as he slammed the door behind him. 

Hazren stepped outside and then stopped for a second. He could feel something was off. 

“Is something different?” Hazren said to himself. 

His eyes scanned the backyard, a scene that he had seen a million times before, but something was different.

The Tree, Hazren thought to himself, has leaves. “It shouldn’t have leaves, it's never had leaves,” Hazren said quietly to himself. Hazren remembered vividly talking to Sirel about getting it cut down, after all, a dead tree could be dangerous.

 I guess we don’t have to cut it down, Hazren thought as he felt his phone vibrate at his side again. He pulled it out of his pocket and saw Zorin calling again. He was really late now and contemplated whether he should even go at all. He declined the call and decided to make his way over to the ranch.