My Fubu is the Father of My Child

The room was as dark and terrifying as ever, with a small ray of sunlight cracking through the ceiling. Sitting under the faint beam was a young boy who didn’t even look old enough to have started puberty.

His knees were folded up as he hugged them, his face resting on them, eyes open but dull - staring at nothing - while his mind stayed fixed on one thing.

That one memory was burned into his mind forever, a mark he could never erase. He saw it again and again: the way his parents were brutally murdered, their bodies tossed aside and slaughtered without mercy.

The young boy hadn’t even cried. Not a single tear fell during that horrifying moment. He had been too shocked to weep. His hands had gripped the stair rail, trembling, cold, and slick with sweat, while his wide eyes stayed fixed on the scene below. 

The only sound that reached him was his mother’s desperate cry - "Run, Axel... go... run!"

Those were her last words

Axel blinked the memory away, but the ache in his chest refused to fade. The emptiness clung to him like a shadow. To this day, he had never shed a single tear. His eyes were red and swollen, circled with dark rings from sleepless nights and the ghosts that lived in his mind.

His body was weak, thin, and malnourished but the people who had taken him didn’t care.

He was never properly fed. Or maybe he was - but only when Mr. Luis Hawthorne was in a good mood. Most days, they tossed him scraps and cracked bones, food barely fit for a dog. Axel would stare at it, unmoving, until it grew cold. And every time he refused to eat, the punishment came swiftly.

"You want the media to think we don’t feed you properly?" Mr. Luis would roar.

Axel never replied. No one had ever heard his voice. 

Except one person - Mia Hawthorne. The only soul who cared about him. The only one who brought him warm food every night and stayed just to make sure he ate.

One could count on one hand the number of words he’d ever spoken to her. And none of them had been kind.

Mia was his opposite in every way - bright where he was broken, talkative where he was silent. Mia would sit beside him and chatter about her day at school, her laughter bouncing softly off the cold stone walls. She’d twirl her hair, grin, and act out the silly things her friends said, trying to make him smile.

But Axel never did. His eyes stayed dull, his thoughts locked far away. Sometimes he’d look at her just for a second then turn away again, as if even that much light hurt.

But Mia - the little girl just a year younger than him - never gave up. She was stubborn.

Once, she had even forced him to wear decent clothes, proudly grinning as if she’d saved him from the whole world. But later that day, Mr. Luis Hawthorne - her father, found out.

He tore the clothes to pieces before Axel’s eyes and beat him until his skin burned. The sound of each strike echoed through the marble halls like thunder.

But Axel didn’t cry.

Not a single tear.

To him, the pain felt like nothing more than a scratch, something far too familiar to hurt anymore. He only let out quiet, shaky breaths, his body trembling but his face empty.

Mr. Luis didn’t spare his daughter either. He locked her in her room for a week, giving her the same punishment as Axel. The only difference was that Mia still got her daily meals. She was simply cut off from the outside world. 

He warned her never to visit that "wretched boy," as he always called Axel, again.

But Mia never listened. She liked Axel, even though he hardly ever spoke to her. She liked him so much that she’d sometimes make him stay up late to watch animated movies on her tablet.

And this night was no exception.

The sound of the massive door creaking open and the burst of light from outside didn’t even make Axel flinch. His eyes remained fixed on nothing.

"Axel," Mia whispered, nudging the door shut with her foot. 

She wobbled a bit as she carried a tray with food, a glass of water, and her tablet balanced on top.

She grinned when she saw him. "Hi," she said softly.

When she reached him, she set the tray down carefully in front of him and plopped down beside him, tucking her legs under her.

"I brought you chicken soup and bread," she said proudly. "It smells so good today! And after you eat, we can watch a movie okay?"

Axel didn’t move. He stayed the same - silent, distant, lost in thought.

"You don’t want me to feed you again, do you?" Mia asked in a small voice, tilting her head.

That was when Axel finally looked up. His dull hazel eyes, once so bright, met her cheerful smile.

"I’m not hungry," he mumbled, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

But right then, his stomach growled loudly. Mia’s eyes widened, and she burst into a quiet giggle.

"I knew it!" she said, covering her mouth to stop herself from laughing too hard.

Axel, unbothered, rested his head back on his knees. He didn’t feel embarrassed. In truth, he didn’t feel anything at all. Somewhere along the way, he had lost the ability to feel.

He hugged his legs tighter, fighting the urge to fall asleep. Mia noticed and slowly stopped laughing.

"Guess we’ll have to save our movie night for later," she said softly. "You look super tired. Eat first, then rest. Okay?"

Axel didn’t react.

Mia sighed, lifted the bowl of chicken soup, and scooped a spoonful of broth. She held it up to his lips, but he turned his head away.

Still, being as stubborn as she was, Mia didn’t give up. She tried again, and again he refused.

A small smirk tugged at her lips. "Let’s see who’s more stubborn," she teased.

She tried again, but Axel still wouldn’t open his mouth. With a tiny huff, Mia set the bowl down, scooted closer, and gently took his chin in her small hand.

"Come on," she whispered. "Just one spoon, okay? Please?"

When he still refused, she carefully lifted the spoon again.

This time, she didn’t wait for permission. She guided it toward his lips and gently pushed it in, the spoon clinking softly against his teeth.

Axel blinked, then let the warm broth slide down his throat.

Mia’s face lit up right away. "See? Not so bad!" she giggled, sitting back with a proud little smile.

It actually tasted good, there was no denying that.

But he didn’t want to eat it. If he was only going to end up hungry again later, what was the point?

"You know," Mia said, "being all grumpy like this won’t make me stop coming here."

She smiled, tilting her head. "I’ll keep sneaking into the kitchen and bringing you food every night. You can’t get rid of me that easily."

She nudged the bowl toward him. "Now go on - eat, Axel."

She watched him closely. He stayed still for a long while. But then, to her surprise, Axel pulled the bowl of chicken soup closer and began to eat.

Mia’s face lit up with joy as she watched him. Even though Axel was always silent and distant, she knew he wasn’t completely gone. She smiled brightly as he ate, even reaching for the bread.

Axel, on the other hand, didn’t know why he was eating. Maybe it was because of her persistence, or maybe because her words lingered in his head. He just picked up the spoon and continued.

But then, Mia’s smile slowly faded.

"Axel," she called softly.

He didn’t answer.

She hadn’t really expected him to.

"One day," Mia whispered, leaning closer, "I’ll take you away from here. Somewhere super far, where my mom and dad can’t find us."

She looked up at the ceiling, eyes dreamy. "We’ll watch the stars every night, and no one will shout at us. Just me and you… eating snacks and laughing and doing whatever we want."

Then she turned back to him with a hopeful little smile.

"And we’ll live happily ever after," she said, almost like she was in one of her fairy-tale movies.

Axel froze, her words hanging in the air.

Happily ever after?

Was that ever going to be possible? he wondered, before quietly returning to his meal.

"You’ll see," Mia murmured, her smile finding its way back to her lips.

The night went on as usual, though there were no movies this time just as Mia had said. Axel was already too sleepy.

Mia gathered the plates, which now had just a bit of soup, a few pieces of chicken, and a tiny piece of bread left. 

Tonight felt different. Axel had eaten more than he ever had before, and that made her chest feel warm but also a little heavy.

"I really wish my dad would just let you out," she said softly, setting the tray aside. "It’s not fair… you didn’t even do anything."

She looked down, fiddling with the edge of her sleeve. "But… I’m sure it won’t be forever. One day, you’ll get to leave this room. I just know it."

Her voice wobbled, but she smiled anyway. "Goodnight, Axel."

She stood up carefully, hugging the tray close to her chest as if it could keep her brave. 

Then she tiptoed to the door and slipped out the same way she had sneaked in.

Axel didn’t look up. He just listened - to the soft creak of the door, the faint sound of her steps growing distant, and then the heavy silence that followed. For a moment, he almost wished she’d stayed.

Mia’s routine continued on the other side of the house. The door to Axel’s room was always locked, but Mia always knew how to get in - by stealing the key from her parents’ desk drawer each night.

She returned the plates to the kitchen, washing them carefully, scrubbing each one until it was spotless.

It had become part of her nightly routine: cleaning the dishes so the house staff wouldn’t notice the missing plate, so no one would wonder why one of the plates was always used after dinner.

When she was done, she wiped her hands on her skirt and picked up the key from the counter, ready to return it to her parents’ room.

But as she approached, her steps slowed. The door was slightly open. 

Her heart skipped a beat. Didn’t I close it properly earlier?