A group of people lived on the outskirts of the state of Nevada, in a city that was known as the poorest by a wide margin. The sky was continually grey; the sun's warm embrace never graced this side of the state. The smog, smoke and desolate sky had taken it away from its inhabitants. The roads were paved, yet chunky, broken and bumpy. The houses that were placed on both sides were of the same quality, derelict with many holes, vermin and sometimes insects scurrying out onto the dead grass in the yards of each house. Very few were beyond two stories, and many had the same build in nature—just enough for maybe one or two persons, a perfect abode for someone requiring the bare minimum to live.
This city was SunHigh Manor, the impoverished capital of the state of Nevada. It was almost like a separate world from the inklings that happened in its sister city—the name was more than ironic with how little the sun truly shone on those below. Many walks of life found their way to this city, from poor teachers and businessmen that never took off, to gangsters and some traces of mafiosos that had been rumored to exist. One thing was true about all those that existed and shared in this calamity that had befallen their forgotten lives. They all were more pauperized, and like them, the institutions for the next generations were mired in misery and destitution.
Many of the schools for the children served more as daycares than actual centers of learning. The school buildings themselves seemed just as depressed as those working as teachers within their walls. They were lifeless with their paint peeling off, in desperate need of a re-paint. Cracks, uneven ground, and dangerous drop-offs covered the courtyards and fields for physical activity. These traps could ensnare a child's ankle like a snake's vice grip. The school-hallways were just as forgettable as they were monochromatic, lacking any sort of soul in their construction. But the most egregious of these institutions, when it came to such dereliction, was the school a small, slender boy was forced to go.
A young, pale white boy, no older than thirteen, walked down a hallway of one of these institutions with his notebooks of shabby quality in his hands. The end of the day had come, and it seemed as if all the students were leaving to return home. Despite being in poverty for most of their lives, the children had found a way to make groups of socialization amongst their peers, the hallways lively with talk and banter. None, however, dared talk to the slender boy, clothed with linen that seemed made by a seamstress with very little material left. The hand-woven nature was patchy and filled with small holes. Even his shoes were quite hole-ridden, providing little comfort when walking against the grainy and bumpy nature of the hall floors.
As he walked, many other children were bigger than him, bumping him multiple times and at one point causing him to stumble and fall. His books were thrown to the ground in an instant, numerous little feet stamping on his things and limbs with little regard for his safety. Though he had survived the trampling, his books had been sullied with dirt and boot-heels. He was used to this life in a way, having endured far worse with little help from anyone else. He reached over to collect his things so he could continue on his way out.
At least they weren't trampled that badly, the boy thought, picking up each book, before stopping at one.
On the front, a piece of text was crudely written to the front, with penmanship that was barely legible. Yet, for some odd reason, the boy lingered on this book, admiring the inscription that simply read his name: Xander. He seemed to recollect something, a building sense of yearning taking place.
I hope…I hope I get to see him today, Xander thought, picking up the book and re-standing to his feet.
He walked out behind the rest of the students, who were now fewer in number, into the outside world of misery that he lived in.
*******
After Xander arrived outside the gate in front of the school, he stood on the sidewalk of a horizontal street that led down both ways into the community he stayed. A foul odor, something he was used to at this point from his time in SunHigh, greeted him. But the smell was worse than before, like cremated remains, burning wet wood and corrosive electrical wires. Most of the children paid no attention to the stench, having their friends in a way to pre-occupy them. But not Xander, as he turned his attention to where he could best discern the direction of the source.
Upon looking further down the road, he saw a fallen electrical line on the same side of the road he stood on, and lodged into the house of a person he knew—although not too well. Though not seeing the home fully, a smoky miasma swayed into the sky, signalling to him that the makings for a fire were present. This house belonged to an elderly woman he had spoken to when walking home in that direction, as it was his best route home. Many in the community believed she had killed most of her family, as sometimes she could be heard ranting to herself about the relatives that left her behind. It was unfortunate that many thought so, because the woman's side of the story was truer than the rumors—her family forgot her, left to rot in her old age.
Xander at first felt indifferent to the scene, before thinking back to everything he had heard about the woman and then his own talks with her. In a way, a bit of sadness and anger replaced that indifference, not because he truly cared about the woman, but because of what it meant in relation to her family. Even in Xander's poverty, his family was one of the brightest spots in his life. His parents were a perpetual beacon of love despite how lowly they were considered. Families took care of one another, even if they were a burden. That was something Xander had taken to heart when his father had said such words to him for the first time.
While Xander continued to stare, a powerless tug came from his left, pulling his attention back to reality. He looked to see who had pulled him, seeing a small girl, shorter than himself, gently clutching his shirt sleeve. The girl was about the same age as him, with the same colour eyes and a small backpack on her back. Her clothing, while just as dingy, was a bit more refined, with a bit of colour to it, green and steel blue that complemented her eyes. He seemed to know the girl long before she needed to open her mouth.
"Xander?" she asked, a tint of rosiness present in her cheeks. "Why are you staring down there? Isn't that the route we normally take to get home?"
Xander quickly glanced back down the road, seeing and hearing sparks and crackles of electricity. He knew better than to go down that route today.
"Yeah…but we have to go the long way today, Diane. It's too dangerous to go that way."
"Awww! But the other way is a lot scarier! And the boys down that way look at me funny."
Trying to brighten his face in whatever way he could to sway her fears, Xander replied, "Come on, Diane, it will be fine…would your big brother let you get hurt?"
"No," she responded, face changing to a smile. He would take her hand and lead her in the opposite direction.
"Then come on, we shouldn't keep Mom waiting. Our supper might get cold."
The two siblings walked hand in hand, forced to find a new way of getting home for their safety. It is a great shame the calamity that was to befall them—a fate no child should ever have to endure.
*******
After walking the long route home, the two passed multiple sketchy figures — from people drunk out of a sane state of mind, to gangsters. When they arrived at their abode, it seemed to be among the better houses of SunHigh, at least when compared to the insect-infested nature of the others. It was two storeys high, yet small and cramped. The wooden patio at the front was creaking and porous, yet it still seemed quite firm. The colours for the house were the same as all the others, a lifeless grey and brown with a few things of stylistic design. But the greatest feat of all was that no vermin or pests were within the boundaries , making their lives a bit better than the common SunHigh resident.
As the two approached the patio, they spotted a few adult men leaving the premises, some with darkened clothing, jeans and teeth-filled with gold, or shirtless with heavy medallions around their necks. Xander knew one of them, having been introduced to him by his father. He also knew the man's son, despite not being friends with the boy, only knowing his nickname as Sliphunter—the same as his father.
Xander and Diane stepped onto the patio, Xander knocking on the door. The door rattled against the door frame a few times, the hinges of the door seeming barely to be connected stably. A few moments later, the unlatching of locks came from behind the entryway, revealing a young woman who seemed to be just as slender as Xander, yet starkly more muscular and rosy-tinted in her cheeks like Diane. Her hair was long and silver-like, ghostly pale like her gown. This gown was just as patchy as the children before her. She leaned against the doorframe, tapping her sandals against the wood beneath her feet.
"You two are late." She said in a stern yet somewhat comforting tone, "Ten minutes later than usual, what have I told you about bad people coming out late?"
"Sorry, Mom," the two responded in unison before Xander moved to explain the situation.
"There was a fire on the regular way to get home. Mrs.Crowley's house had an electric pole fall on it."
After hearing her son's words, her face became grim. She had heard the rumors before but truly didn't want to believe them. Realizing her children were still watching her, she immediately switched on a dime back to a semi-cheery disposition, beckoning them inside.
"Well, all that matters is that you're safe," she said, stepping to the side. "Also, guess who's back? It's a little surprising. Dinner will be done soon."
Xander and Diane stepped into a moderately designed living room with three couches, all in some form of disrepair, though usable. A fireplace was nearby, in the middle of the room. Behind the couches was a small walkway leading to the kitchen of the house. One could see into the kitchen from a small open-concept opening, the two noticing a great deal of cooking steam coming from the kitchen. A man with similar attire to the men seen outside was standing over a stove, stirring a cooking pot that contained the ingredients needed for some form of stew. He seemed a bit confused with the monitoring of the liquid sustenance.
"Honey! How do I know when this thing is done?!" the man asked, voiced slightly with a masculine whimsical flair, before realizing the pot was slowly beginning to boil over. "Shit! Veronica!"
"For Christ's sake, Kessler! I can't leave you with a pot for a few moments without something happening, can I?" she said, speeding past her children to help Kessler.
Diane and Xander's faces lit up at the mention of the name Kessler. Their father was here, having taken some time off his ventures in music to spend time with his family like he normally did. Veronica relieved Kessler of his duties, allowing the man to go to his children, who eagerly ran into his arms. Though being a musician, Kessler's body physique was not much better than his children, as he too was struggling to make money. In a sense, he knew he was the only hope his family had of escaping these unbearable slums.
"Take it easy on your old man; I'm not as youthful as you two anymore," Kessler said, feeling the full weight of his children.
"We missed you so much." Diane said, glossy-eyed and all radiant smiles.
"How long are you going to be staying this time, Dad?" Xander asked.
"About three days," Kessler replied, whilst scratching head. "Maybe I can ask my new boss if I can get some more, but I doubt it would be good for a new hire to be asking for more off-time." He continued laughing.
His wife's ears had perked up on hearing the mention of a new boss, side-eyeing the young man whilst finishing up the stew. Kessler would then move with the children to sit on the couch and recount tales of times in other cities with his older employer. While he was far from a household name, some people in the community played his music from time to time, a mixture of rap with a jazz orientation like that of Madlib or Gang Starr. If he weren't tired, he would normally rap his lyrics to his children and give them a taste of what he believed was in the pipeline for success and fame one day.
As the story-time for Kessler was winding down, Veronica brought out bowls filled with quite unappetizing stews. Though having protein and other qualitative elements that enlivened the texture, it could be seen as the bare minimum in sustenance with a brown texturing that made it seem more like mud than something to be eaten. Still, Diane and Xander took the bowls thankfully within their tiny hands and ate ravenously, like they had not been fed in months. Whilst the two continued their feasting, Veronica pulled Kessler to the kitchen to talk to him about this new deal of his, dragging him by the ear.
"What, Venny?!" he said, shaking himself free of the woman's grip when they reached the far back of the cramped kitchen.
"When were you going to tell me this?" She asked.
"Really, that's what you're dragging me like that for? Thought you would have had something more revelatory to spring on me because of how aggressive you were being just now." He joked, Veronica not much enjoying the joke, "Alright, my fault. I was going to wait to tell you the details when they went to bed, but since it seems even you can't wait, I might as well talk."
He leaned against the coarse, foraminous marble countertop, taking in a deep breath before he continued, "My old contract ended, and I got a new one more locally."
"Locally? Kessler—,"
"I thought it'd be a death sentence too, but the guy was upfront — even had my buddies check the contract." He smirked. "But take a wild guess how much money I'll be making off it?"
"35 thousand. Something close to what you've made before. And we still have more of those debts to pay—,"
"300 thousand."
Immediately, Veronica's mouth paused in its motion. She wasn't sure she had heard him correctly and quickly blinked her eyes twice at the prideful man. "How–how much did you say?"
"And with some takeouts from the new label, 250 thousand."
Her face lit up in a way Kessler hadn't seen in years. "Kessler…you've done it."
"Took damn near fifteen years—you stood all those years with me too. I promised we'd get out of here eventually. And now…I'll finally be able to do that for all of us. No more of these nights on these hard-ass mattresses or eating the bare-minimum. Compared to all of this, we'll be a king and a queen," he said before looking back at Xander and Diane, "with our little princess and prince as well."
Immediately, Veronica wrapped her arms around her husband, using the little strength she had left to squeeze the life out of his body. He hugged her in return, giving her a peck on the cheek as the two were so close to feeling a forgotten happiness they only shared in their youth.
"You'd better not screw this up."
"This is kinda my life's passion, Venny. I've got my head on straight, and I ain't giving up until we're eating well."
Xander could overhear the words of happiness that were being exchanged by his mother and father, seeing their faces of joy and splendour. But as their talks came to a close, he could hear his mother ask his father one more question.
"Who—who could have possibly taken this big risk on you?" She asked.
"Some fellow named Smiley, but I don't think his lead artist likes me too much."
*******
The family of four went to bed much happier than days prior. With the news of Kessler's new ideal-changing contract, Kessler and Veronica spent the night having talks about what could be done with that contract and the potential money. Diane and Xander went to sleep rather early, either stuffed from the stew or bored because of the lack of things they had to do in the house. But after overhearing all their parents talk about their father's new contract, their nightly dreams became ones of idealistic wants they yearned to experience.
In the dead of the night, a car drove through the neighbourhood. No cars had even come through SunHigh before; most people were too scared to drive through this city. The car was starkly visible compared to the rest of the place, lavish and stylish with a white tint. It was a McLaren in model with a spoiler and decals that made it look more like a chariot out of hell. The owner seemed to have one house on his mind and drove slowly up to the residence of Kessler and his family.
"This really isn't necessary, Leviticus. I know you don't like the idea of this man taking your spot, but don't you think you should at least see what Smiley will make him out to be first?" A man with brownish hair and a light skin complex said to the driver, whilst violent rap played in the back.
"Then stay in the car for all I care!" Leviticus barked, "You don't know that cretin Smiley like I do, and the last thing I'm gonna have is him giving all that is rightfully mine to some two-bit hack!" Leviticus pulling in front of the lawn, jerking the vehicle to a stop.
"Okay…but even then, how are you going to do this without it being traced back to you? Think you, idiot. You are throwing all of you this way for some bullshit thought that probably won't even come to fruition."
"This neighbourhood is a walking deathtrap. I know people that have come here, and one thing I know about this place is that these electrical poles aren't worth shit," he said, getting out of the car, and moving to the back. He immediately popped the back and reached for one only thing in there, a chainsaw.
The poles were built from structures made of wood instead of metal, and even if they were not, materials alone wouldn't deter him. Leviticus would not let Kessler think he could walk in the same class as him.
A moment later, the breaking of wood and the revs of a chainsaw could be heard from outside Kessler's home. Done in such a way for the electrical pole and the wires would snap free from the other holdings, a sudden crash came upon the roof, carrying with it the crackles of electricity that ran wildly for the nearest conductor. It landed on the side of the house where Kessler and Veronica's room was placed, instantly awakening the two. The sparks and the fire instantly began their devastating charge, looking for anything to consume.
Without time to think, Kessler grabbed his wife and pulled her to the floor. The electrical wires of the pole hung dangerously above their bed. Their clothing was singed from the electricity itself, burnt skin being smelt in the air as the two scrambled to move towards the door. Fire raged on and on as Kessler desperately tried to pry the door open. As he creaked the door open to look down the long hall leading to his children's room, all he heard were the hisses of flame, cracking of wood and screams of his children.
"Xander! Diane!" Veronica called, before another boom echoed in the house, as the ceiling gave way behind them in their room, dragging more of the house into oblivion.
"Veronica, just get out, alright!? I'll go get them!" Kessler yelled, rising from behind his wife as the two moved down the hallways. His wife moved to crawl down the stairs, whilst Kessler ducked deeper into the flames to find his children.
As he did, the first room he came upon was Xander's on the right of the hallway, the door nearly burned off and the hinges nearly melted to liquid iron. As he stood upright to force his way into the room, smoke filled his lungs, forcing out coughs of pain. He braced his shoulder and used it to ram the door multiple times, each time the fire spiking with his efforts. Xander had already crawled up near beside the door to get away from the fiery mess of blackened sheets on his bed.
He could hear his father's efforts from the other side. The door creaked and cracked more and more each time until it had finally broken enough for Kessler to see Xander's terrified face.
"Come on, Xander! Be strong! We have to go!"
Xander crawled hastily to the opening created, the newly added oxygen enraging the flame upon their arrival. Immediately, Kessler pulled his son to the side of the hallway as the flames roared back at them from the room. But before the two could even think about what was to come next, Diane's yelps of despair could be heard from the room over.
"Diane!" Xander called, moving to go past his flaming room, but immediately his hands were burned by the radiation of the flames.
I have little time, the house is falling apart! Kessler thought with a grimace, I'm gonna need Xander help to break it down!
"Xander, Daddy's gonna need your help to get your sister, alright!?" Kessler told his son, using his body to push past the flames and take Xander with him. His back was cindered and seared in multiple ways, eliciting groans and howls of pain from the man as he and his son stumbled to the door.
"Daddy!" Diane screamed between spurts of coughs. She appeared right behind the door, banging on it with her tiny, feeble hands.
"Diane, move to the side if you can!" Kessler said. "Xander, get ready and follow my lead!"
One, two and then three. The two rammed into the door, but it didn't immediately break. The fire in Diane's room was mounting higher and higher, and the flames inched closer to her face and body with every passing second. A second attempt came, and now the door creaked and broke in. With one final push from the two, the door burst open, but so did the flames as it welcomed their entry. Kessler grabbed Diane and ripped her out of the room, the flames flowing out in hot pursuit, grazing Xander's face. But most of the brunt was upon Kessler. Instantly, the three ducked to the floor as the flames washed over them. Kessler covered his daughter and son, both wailing and crying in pain from all that was happening. He did everything he could to get them to move, ushering them as they crawled towards the staircase.
The three were so close to getting to the stairs, the door to the outside directly in front of them if they could do so. But God didn't seem to bring them favour—specifically Kessler—as without warning, the ceiling above him gave way to broken, ignited wood. The debris crushed his legs, impeding his movements as Xander and Diane turned back to the cries of anguish released from their father. Xander moved to go back and help, but Kessler knew if they stopped here, they too would soon be ensnared by a similar fate. His family's perfect future was slowly slipping away second by second. At this moment, he could think of only one thing—his children's safety.
"Xander, please! Take Diane and Go!" Kessler shouted at the boy.
"I can't leave you like that! I—,"
"Please, Son!" Kessler retorted. "I'll be fine. I will find a way out of this, but I can't guarantee the same for you two if you stay!"
"But—," Xander tried to say before his father stopped him.
"Xander, do you trust me?" he asked him. Xander could only nod yes. "Then get her to safety; your mother should be out by now!"
Closing his eyes at the sight of his burnt, seared and scarred father, Xander spun back with haste and ushered a crying Diane down the stairway. As the two reached the bottom, they saw that the ceiling downstairs had collapsed too, with many items from their childhood crushed underneath them in some places. But in one such smoldering pile of flames, the body of a woman near the doorway had been crushed, her top half still half alive. Veronica's eyes were filled with water that quickly evaporated in the heat of the flames, barely able to see her children as they stumbled past her to the door. Xander was so focused on fulfilling his father's dying request that it took Diane's yelp of shock and dread to snap his attention away from the door.
Xander and Diane saw the near corpse of their mother in the same predicament as their father. Her last words to them being ones of love and care a mother could only give.
"Xander…Diane…live…please."
No more needed to be heard. Xander looked away from the sight, grabbing Diane by the waist, who wanted to rush to their mother. He grabbed hold of the door handle, burning away the fibers of his hand and fingers, but the pain didn't register. He was numb, unfeeling and wanted to be let out of this hell. Hearing the cries and wails of Xander and Diane, God answered their prayers.
The door opened, the atmosphere's oxygen rushing in and fully engulfing the house in hellish flames. The sudden rush of air threw both Xander and Diane onto the dead grass at the front of the house. Diane was knocked unconscious almost immediately, whilst Xander rested nearby, catching the last glimpse of his sister before his vision began to fade.
"Diane…" Xander croaked.
His eyes closed, and the world went black.