"What was that?" Julius asked himself as he stepped into the steamy shower. "Why did I lash out at him so hard?" he asked himself, only to come up with no answer.

  Even as he replayed the scene in his head, all the while the shower spewed out hot water that cascaded down his rather feminine-looking body.

  But as the questions racked his brain, his eyes landed on his wrist, giving him his answer. Gazing at the series of deep, dark, horizontal scar marks that branded his otherwise porcelain-clear and smooth skin.

  Looking at the marks, his mind flashed him back to when he held a knife against his own skin. Shaking his head to dissipate the memory could finish; his anger instantly returned.

  "Why the hell would he do something so stupid?" he asked nobody as blue flames began to flicker & rise around his body, creating more steam in the shower. "There's never a reason," he grimaced.

  But as those words escaped his lips, his mind flashed this time to the look on his face, one of despair that was so deep you could drown in it.

  It was a look he was very familiar with on himself and others of this country.

  Feeling his anger rising and his flames along with it, he took a deep breath, then another, then another, until the blue flames receded.

  Letting out a sigh, he ran a hand through his white-and-blue tousled hair. "Just who is this guy?" he asked himself, that being the only question that didn't hurt him to ask.

  Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

  Wrapping up his shower about 20 minutes later, he exited the bathroom and headed for the kitchen, opening the fridge and grabbing two cans of grape soda before closing it and heading for the room.

  "I brought you another drink," he said as he opened the door. Only to be greeted with a sight he didn't expect but wasn't all too surprised about.

  Sitting in the chair, head bowed slightly, was Jake, fast asleep and snoring. "Figures..." he muttered while stepping into the room and placing the drinks on the desk.

  "How does he always forget moving as fast as he does drains his stamina?" he continued to mutter.

  "Guess I should have offered him another soda before I went to the shower," he thought in hindsight as he grabbed a nearby blanket and placed it on him before grabbing a soda from the desk and sitting on the floor, his back against the wall.

  "My room and I ended up on the floor," he muttered while shaking his head slightly in mild disbelief as he opened the soda with a loud crack, which was followed by a prolonged hissing sound.

  "Well, I guess the second shift starts now," he said as he gazed at his bed and the slowly but steadily breathing person on it.

  As the hours passed, he continued to absentmindedly watch the guy, his mind briefly flickering to the events of the week: the court trial where Riven was found guilty; the fight they had to serve his arrest; and the biggest smile everyone had on their face, especially his mom, when she got to slap the cuff on him.

  But then his mind drifted to the look on Samantha's face when she begged them to stop attacking because he was already unconscious. And despite how much he loathed him, he still couldn't help but feel a pang in his heart as the image of her face as she held his heavily injured body flickered in his mind.

  "Why did he have to have a family like that?" he thought as his eyes grew heavy, but he just took another sip of the soda, banishing the sleep from his eyes for a little longer as he continued to think. "Why couldn't I be just like him?" he asked, though he didn't mean it in the slightest.

  But eventually he forgot to take a sip of the caffeinated beverage, and his heavy eyes got heavier until he drifted to sleep.

  And as they all continued to sleep soundly, more hours passed till finally morning had arrived and one of them woke up first.