Dreams

Michael gently dropped off his father at home, a place that seemed devoid of warmth and care. There was no need to inform his mother of his whereabouts, for she had long lost interest in her family's well-being, consumed instead by her relentless pursuit of her next fix. Even as her husband had been missing for a day, she remained oblivious, her focus solely on satisfying her cravings.

Pausing for a moment, Michael glanced at his father's pitiable state and couldn't help but wonder if this was to be his own future. He realized that residing in this broken home would only lead him down a similar path, as some wounds ran too deep to ever fully heal, forcing one to adapt and learn to live with the pain.

His greatest fear was becoming irreparably shattered, knowing the repercussions it would have on his interactions with others. Edward was the only stabilizing force in his turbulent life, and he understood the dangerous dependency that entailed. Handing such power over to another was a dangerous situation, a level of trust that demanded caution as no man should hold that much control.

"A man who can't protect his family is no man. Isn't it exhausting, Dad?" Michael asked, his eyes filled with sadness as he observed his father slumbering, appearing as vulnerable as a helpless child. He could sense the pain that his father silently endured, driving him to cope in this way.

"Are you carrying the trauma your parents gave you?" Michael pondered aloud. He couldn't escape the realization that children often inherit the consequences of their parents' actions. The weight of this notion pressed heavily on his mind. Did his own parents suffer a similar fate to what he was currently experiencing?

Throughout his life, Michael had made countless excuses for his parents, trying to rationalize why they had turned out the way they did. He desperately sought to make sense of his tragic circumstances, but perhaps today could mark a turning point, a stroke of luck in his favor.

As he left the shabby-looking house, he closed the door behind him, and there was Edward, already outside, sitting on the pavement, seemingly lost in his thoughts.

"Hey, shitface!" Michael called out, attempting to lighten the heavy atmosphere. Edward turned to look at him and noticed Michael's eyes were dull and lifeless. The lack of sleep was evident, marked by the growing prominence of dark circles under his eyes – a recurring theme.

"Not so loud…." Edward responded, placing a finger over his lips, and Michael immediately grasped the message. His mother was occupied with a customer, earning her living in a way that left little room for disruption. Understanding this, Michael motioned for Edward to follow him to their usual spot.

It was a place they frequented, a refuge for both boys when formal visitations were off the table due to the troubling conditions of their respective homes. Although Edward's home provided a more welcoming environment for Michael than his own did for Edward, both households were burdened by their own hardships.

As they settled onto the grassy floor up a hill, the sun already high in the sky, Michael couldn't help but say.

"Today is hot as shit!" Edward offered a faint chuckle in response to this.

"What's so funny?" Michael inquired, curious about his friend's amusement. Edward raised a finger playfully.

"I made a bet with myself that your first words would involve a cuss word…." Edward confessed, and Michael arched an eyebrow.

"And what were you betting? More poverty?" Michael teased, fully aware that Edward's bets were never about money – they were simply that poor.

"Hahaha, very funny. So, did you want to talk about something specific, or did you just want to be a prick?" Edward replied, his tone beginning with sarcasm and ending with genuine curiosity.

"You know… I've given a lot of thought to something: how supervillains are made. They always seem to have stories like ours, even in the movies, and I want to become one…." Michael expressed his thought, hoping for Edward's approval, knowing how much his friend adored superheroes with an almost obsessive passion. However, Edward's response was a blank stare, leaving Michael uncertain of what to expect.

"You can't even hurt a fly; you know supervillains kill people, right?" Edward blurted out, offering a more level-headed assessment than Michael had anticipated.

"Not all supervillains kill people…" Michael retorted, trying to justify his notion, but Edward's laughter interrupted him, leaving Michael puzzled about what was so amusing.

Suddenly, he felt Edward's right hand clutching his shoulder.

"You don't even have powers, my guy. How are you going to be a supervillain? What will they call you? The Trauma Handler?" Edward teased, continuing to laugh heartily at the thought.

This was their way of coping with their challenging circumstances – finding humor even in the face of adversity, and Michael couldn't help but giggle along with Edward.

"You're truly a dumbass. I saw a flyer, and I'm going to give the interview a try," Michael replied, causing Edward's laughter to come to an abrupt end.

"A flyer for supervillains, that's a first. Is it really that important to you?" Edward inquired, his tone now filled with a more brotherly concern.

"I don't know, but we're not the only ones in this situation. The world turns a blind eye because it's not happening in their wealthy neighborhoods. I want to show them despair, to make the world understand what we're going through. This is no way to live. Why haven't 'your' superheroes saved us?" Michael posed the question to his friend, and Edward responded with a broad smile, devoid of judgment. This was precisely why Michael enjoyed talking to Edward; he always viewed things from a neutral perspective, no matter how controversial the topic at hand.

"I think the thought of being saved gives us hope. Hope is the reason why superheroes exist. Despite all our struggles, tell me why you are still alive? Because you have found hope in something as well," Edward's profound words left Michael speechless. It was remarkable to hear such insight from an eighteen-year-old boy.

"I might not like the idea of you becoming a bad guy, but if it is something you truly want, I could respect it," Edward continued, displaying a level of understanding that touched Michael deeply.

"If being a supervillain is where you find your purpose in this life, then I will support you until the very end. And by end, I mean until I capture you and end your evil reign! Our battle will be legendary," Edward declared with a hint of humor, lightening the gravity of the conversation, though it was no secret he admired heroes and he had just told his best friend that he would become one if Michael went down this path.

"Like hell, you can beat me!" Michael retorted playfully, and with that, the two boys launched into an animated debate about what their imaginary superpowers would be.