Then his best friend arrived.
That night, he dreamed he had lost control again—only this time he was running away from home, trying desperately to avoid his family. At last he saw his house up ahead. But when he got close enough, he realised it wasn’t really his house at all.
His dad' house was right beside it. And they could see through the windows of their living room that he was sitting there. Alone, surrounded by darkness, and wearing something strange. He looked like a creature made from ink instead of flesh. He looked like a demon. A monster. Something you would rather not look at for more than a second or two.
Renix woke up crying. He felt cold, wet tears roll down his cheeks and pool at his bottom lip. He wiped them away and got out of bed.
It was dark outside already; the sun hadn't set yet. He dressed quickly and went downstairs, where he found his grandmother making pancakes. She didn't ask why he was crying—she never did.
His mum was reading the paper. As usual, when her back was turned, he sneaked past her without saying a word. His father was lying on the sofa, watching TV. He didn't seem to have noticed Renix come down the stairs.
"Good morning!" said Renix cheerfully as he entered the kitchen. His parents didn't respond. He reached out and took a slice of pancake off the plate in front of his mother.
"You're going to get syrup all over your uniform," said his mother sharply, as if he'd said something wrong. She was already looking in her handbag.
She gave him his uniform, a white dress shirt with long sleeves, blue trousers and black shoes. "Take that upstairs and get changed."
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