Prologue

All of this seems quite genuine to me, but how is that possible? 

I want to move, to change my fate, butI can't control my entire body. Damn! What exactly is going on here? Is this a dream, or what? 

 

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On the snow-covered streets of the empty Glendale housing complex, the headlights of a minivan flashed brightly.

We were late getting home because we had to go to the hospital to get the wound on my forehead stitched up.

Father yanked my hand away from the wound with a ferocious grip.

"Adrian." He gave me a cold stare, the kind that made me cringe every time. "I told you not to get into a fight. Even though you're still a child, you act like a gangster. What do you want to do with your life in the future?"

I don't want to get into a debate. What's wrong with beating up four hoodlums from the school when they insult Alfred?

My brother .... Alfred is smart, nice, and cowardly. When the school hoodlums used him as a toy, he never fought back. Isn't that why it's my responsibility as a guy to defend him?

"Wait outside the school next time you want to bash someone up." As he winked at me, Dad grinned slightly.

In Glendale, he's the best dad. He constantly looked after me, Alfred, Kim, and Mother, despite his frail appearance. The father who knows me best can always bring a grin to my face, like he is doing right now.

"What if the girls hate me because of this wound?" I asked, wanting to hold the wound but being unable to do so because he was staring at me.

Dad's chuckle was crisp, and he spoke with his eyes fixed on the road. "After seeing the wound, they will fall in love with you. Believe me. Don't be depressed. A man's wound serves as a trophy. Don't be embarrassed if you get a scratch."

The sound of police sirens interrupted our conversation. A police car, as seen in the rearview mirror, flashed its lights on and off. The patrol sedan passed. The left turn signal flashed, indicating that we should pull over.

Mr. Dohl Downson exited the police car. His stocky body was wrapped in a thick black police jacket. The police hat kept the slightly hairy head covered. In my opinion, it's a cool look. He coaxed Dad out of the car with a friendly smile.

"Wait here," Dad said as he closed the driver's door tightly from the outside. He rubbed his palms next to the car, opposite Mr Downson.

I didn't mean to listen in, but their conversation was loud enough that I could hear it from inside the car.

Mr Downson's voice rose and fell as he said, "I told you not to go out at night."

"I'm sorry, I just drove Ad to the hospital after he 'did it' again." I'm not sure why Dad smiled at me; perhaps he was proud?

Mr. Downson laughed heartily as he narrowed his eyes at me. "Boys must fight to become men." He turned to smile at Dad.

Mr. Dohl has always been like that to me. He also taught me how to fight.

"So, what is it?" Dad asked as he hugged himself. "Can we talk at home?" he asked, his mouth dripping with dew.

"Well, I believe it is better here." Mr. Dohl's body twitched slightly as he looked around before speaking quietly. "The Mancini family was informed of your whereabouts."

Father immediately tensed to the point of lowering his voice. "Who shattered the tea?"

"I'm not sure. Get your family out of Glendale as soon as possible."

Before Dad could respond, they were distracted by the sound of a Camaro approaching from behind.

Mr. Downson's face blanched to death. He attempted to draw the gun from the holster on his belt, but failed because the holster was locked.

An old Camaro drove right by us. Two black men in the car were armed with uzis.

"Adrian lower your head!" Dad gave the order while watching the speed of the strange car that was leaning against the car door, attempting to be a fortress to protect me.

As a hail of bullets pierced my eardrums, I looked down. My father's frantic voice called out to me.

I shouted back.  "Father!"

All of this came to an end with the sound of car tires screeching fast.

It all happened so quickly. Everything was as silent as a grave when I opened my eyes.

The body of the father is leaning against the car door. Slowly, he leaned back into the car, his mouth over his eyes. Without that head power, I'm so sluggish. Fresh red blood flowed from the mouth to the only white eyeballs. Dad didn't move or respond to my calls. His body was stiff as ice.

My entire body immediately broke out in cold sweat. I had no choice but to cry silently. As I pushed Dad's cheek, my mouth became sticky. The desire only caused face to move lifelessly, like a mango dangling from a tree.

"Father, wake up...Father!"

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