Amson, 18, "The Fate of the Scavenger"

"Which one do you want to open first, champ?" Officer Halm asked as they all paraded around the dining room table.

My Dad stood directly at his side, my mother at his hip and Lorelai at hers. Baun stood next to me, investigating my expression and, all the more, anticipating my answer. To be frank, I was stumped; by the sizes and weight, I couldn't decide between them.

After narrowing the search, it was either the wide rectangle with red wrapping or the longer, thinner one wrapped in blue. Neither were colors I was particularly inclined to either... Eventually, I took a shot through the dark.

"I guess I'll take this one, first." I said, pointing to the wide, red box.

Mom and Dad took the liberty of handing it to me, smiles spanning from ear to ear. Clearly, they had some part to play in the generation of this present, no? Jokes aside, I was eager to tear through the thing. Besides just liking to tear through the paper, I was unusually unsure about what might be in this one.

I mean, I had basically all I could ask for... A mansion wouldn't fit in this comparatively tiny box, would it? Maybe the deed or paperwork might fit that bill... Unfortunately, no matter what promotion they'd gotten, there was no way their wallets were.

I took a deep breath, taking the gift in my hands and tearing into the wrapping. I carried the waste in my hand, crushing it within my palm. As I pulled it off, revealing an unfamiliar logo, Mom and Dad hooted with anticipation, ready to spill over.

From the look of it, it was a shoe box; that much was apparent. But as I surveyed the logo more thoroughly, it unsettled me, growing more and more unfamiliar as I looked at it.

The only thing to do was open the box, but as I did, it felt almost heavy, the thing. Eventually, it was pried open, and I gazed upon the grey loafers, wrapped neatly in its own soft fabric.

"Oh, hell yeah." I whispered, Mom and Dad growing an even bigger smile on their faces.

The shoe had a darker, grey embroidery along the heel reading, "Mind" in a squiggly yet stylish, cursive calligraphy. They were some nice fucking shoes, and although I never wore loafers, they were a bit too nice not to wear.

I was always good with keeping shoes clean because they were always few and far between.

"You guys…" I felt the tears coming. "…Y-You guys are awesome."

Mom frantically orbited around my head.

"Amson?" She said. "What happened? Amson?!"

I stopped her jittering.

"I'm happy, Ma." I assured her. "That's all."

I felt an arm wrap around my shoulder, and my hair was rustled; that was Dad for sure. I could feel the smile on his face, even as he stood behind me, and just knowing that made up for all of the times I wished he'd just smile, smile at something other than the flatscreen TV.

Seeing that smile, I knew that he cared, just found trouble expressing what he felt... Kinda like myself but still very different. With the welcoming atmosphere of family, Baun and his dad included, I guess he couldn't kept but let a little grin show.

"Try them on, son." Dad said, excited. "Been dying to see them on you since we bought them."

I glanced at him as he leaned over my shoulder, half joking but somewhat serious.

"I haven't even gotten rid of the inside packaging yet, Dad." I chuckled, wiping the tears from my eyes. "I might need a hand..."

I grabbed and tugged the packaging holding the two loafers together, and to my surprise, it came clean off, not a single bit of damage to the shoes. I blinked furiously, not expecting such a clean pull.

"N-Nevermind, I guess." I scoffed, bewildered.

I handed Dad the waste and, finally, pulled the shoes from their box. I looked at them as they rested in my palm, a strange air about them. I swore there was something more to them, but with no one else reacting to it, I assumed it was another instance of overthinking. Still, it wouldn't shake clear from me, no matter how much I tried to ignore it.

Looking at them, again, they really were a spectacle. I had to give my respect.

"These really are some nice shoes, Dad." I said investigating the surface and sole for more linguistic easter-eggs. "Where'd you guys get them?"

Dad slapped me lightly on the back.

"Why don't you just put the doggon flippers on, Am?" Dad sighed impatiently. "You're killin' me."

"Alright, alright." I smiled.

One after the other, they slipped on like butter, and I stood in them for a moment, breaking them to my feet. They were undoubtedly comfortable, almost too comfortable. They were nearly weightless on my feet, and though there were no laces, they didn't feel like they might slip off, even after how many times I kicked them around. Sleek, workable, and, above all else, comfortable... These were some solid shoes.

I looked up once more to meet their faces.

"Thank y--" I stopped, my heart sinking.

Like a switch, around me were formless monsters, their very presences forcing me to the floor. They were absorbed in a black nothing yet their silhouettes took the form of my family, yet the change made the setting unrecognizable in comparison. I backed away in a frightened fit, heaving for sweet breath.

"The unending search of the scavenger..." They hailed in unison. "The poor, broken scavenger..."

"Get the hell away from me!" I threw the long chair at the apparition posing as my father.

With a giant, echoing crash, the figure smashed the chair with a powerful swipe of its fist, continuing as if nothing had happened. The room became clouded in black and red, as if blood had been tossed throughout the space. I thought I might choke on my own tongue; everything was falling apart.

"Lord, save the scavenger, for he is fragile of body and mind..." They chanted. "May he, by the grace of Lord God almighty, be blessed with Mind, piecing his own checkered fate together, bit by excruciating bit!"