The sound of raindrops hitting the pavement accompanied Bethany as she and a six-year-old boy breathlessly ran to catch a bus they nearly missed. The driver nodded to the pair as they showed him their bus pass and confirmed that the bus would take them to where they needed to be.

Finding two empty seats near a window, Bethany plopped herself down and was about to shut the whole world out by reading a graphic novel when the little boy tugged on her sleeve.

"Not again, Tony!" she growled lowly. "I already told you all I could about where we're going, what else do you need to know? Just be quiet and watch the rain or something, okay?"

"But I'm boreeeeed!" Tony whined. "And I really want to hear more about your friend."

"Johan is not my friend," the girl sighed exasperatedly, "I thought I've made it clear."

"Well, then you need to be friends!" Tony grinned. "You need a real friend, sis, especially after you quit modeling club. You seem sad about it, so maybe having a new friend can help."

"You do realize Mom is very specific about who we can and can't be friends with, right?"

"We don't have to tell Mom. Honestly, Beth, I don't understand a lot of the rules she has for us."

"Hey, now, those rules are set for our own good!" Bethany lightly patted Tony's head, much to his protest, "Although it does sound harsh, Mom has her reasons. You'll understand when you're my age, trust me. There are people worth befriending and people we need to keep our distance from. Otherwise, we would get hurt and we wouldn't like that, would we, little brother?"

"If you think Johan would hurt us, then why are we coming to his house?"

"Fair point," Bethany said, "but I wasn't talking about him specifically, just people like his family in general. Frankly, if I weren't desperate to get better at Math I won't bother agreeing to his terms of the deal. Also, if we were able to afford a babysitter I won't bring you along."

"It's not my fault you're stuck looking after me!" Tony pouted. "You could've taken Granny's offer to have her watch me. Instead, you told her not to worry about it. Now you're complaining? I don't get it. What's so hard about saying yes to Granny?"

"Granny offered that in front of Mom, remember? And Mom has been grilling me about my lack of responsible behavior. So, I'm babysitting to show her I can take on more responsibility."

"I wonder if Mom will be as strict with me as she is with you when I am older."

"Then pray, Tony. Pray that you don't have to grow up too fast."

***

About twenty minutes later, the bus stopped in front of a row of apartment buildings. Bethany and Tony said thanks to the driver and were ready to hop off but the driver told them to wait.

"You two really need raincoats," he said as he reached under his seat and pulled a couple of ponchos, "I've always kept extra for my passengers. Here, you take these. Don't get drenched."

"That's kind of you," Tony responded politely. "Have a good day, sir, and drive safe."

"No problem, kid!" the driver replied as he re-started the engines and drove away.

Bethany helped Tony put his poncho on and then checked the address Johan gave her to make sure she had gotten off on the right street. Squinting, she searched for the correct apartment unit.

"Apartment D4414 should be on the fourth floor of Building D, I guess," she muttered to herself, only half-aware of Tony jumping into a puddle nearby and dirtying his shoes while giggling.

"You better wipe your shoes on the grass before we come in!" she scolded him once she fully realized what he did. "How is playing in a puddle fun, anyway? Puddles are gross."

Tony just grinned mischievously and ran toward Building D with Bethany chasing after him. The inside of the building, or at least the lobby, was nicer than its dull and lifeless grey brick exterior. The interior wall was painted light green, the color of unripe bananas, and the floor was carpeted with black rug, on which patterns of many different white flowers were sewn. The elevator that brought Tony and Bethany to the fourth floor was colorful—a mix of yellow, blue, and magenta.

"We're here," Bethany said once they stepped out of the elevator and immediately saw a door labelled D4414 just across from it. "I don't see any bell to ring or an intercom, though."

"We can just knock!" Tony laughed and did exactly that.

When nobody opened the door, he knocked again, louder. This time, a thinly-mustached man dressed in khaki pant and wrinkled red shirt came out to greet them, smiling a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. Bethany smiled back out of politeness while Tony hid behind her.

"Johan did tell me that a girl from school is coming, but he didn't tell me the girl is this beautiful!" Mr. Sitohang offered a handshake, which Bethany accepted shyly. "And who is the cute kid? It's okay, I don't bite, I have another son your age, kiddo."

"Johan has a sibling?" Bethany asked with a raised eyebrow, surprised. "That's news to me."

"Two siblings," Mr. Sitohang corrected, "and you'll meet them soon. Come in!"

Bethany and Tony followed him into the brightly lit living room, where Johan crouched beside a large TV, seemingly tinkering with its audio and graphic settings. In the kitchen, his mother was preparing popcorns while Nardho and Nardhia sat on the dinner table with a big coloring book.

"Hey, Beth!" the teenage boy stood up, still clutching the remote control, and nodded toward the auburn-haired girl before noticing her younger brother. "Oh, you've brought someone with you. Hey there, what's your name? Do you want anything to drink? Maybe strawberry soda?"

"Tony Mhoirbheinn. And thanks, but I'm good."

"You sure?" Johan chuckled. "I thought kids like soda. Nardhia definitely can't live without it."

"He's just shy," Bethany said with her eyes rolled, "he definitely wants soda, I promise."

"There's enough soda for everyone!" Nardhia, who had been watching silently from the kitchen, suddenly appeared with two cans of the beverage and handed one to Tony, who hesitantly but gratefully accepted it. "And Johan is right, it's impossible to live without soda."

"Oh, dear," Mrs. Sitohang, who overheard the conversation, shook her head. "There she goes again with her sweet tooth. Fine, Nardhia, but remember that's your third soda can of the day. Why can't you be more like your twin? He knows too much sweet stuff is bad for your teeth."

"Mom, for the last time, I'm not Nardho, okay?" Nardhia sighed. "I hate this comparison."

"So do I, sis," Nardho looked up from his coloring book, "because I'm me and you're you."

"Alright, point taken," Mrs. Sitohang sighed. "But really, Nardhia, no more soda after this one."

"I hear you, Mom!" the little girl frowned and then turned to Tony. "Wanna see my bedroom? I have a lot of comic books and I'll let you borrow one. Or maybe you'd rather play video games."

"Nardhia, stop right there," Mr. Sitohang interrupted, "you can't bring a boy into your bedroom."

"Why not, Dad? I'll leave the door open, nothing bad will happen."

"Girls and boys shouldn't be in the same room unsupervised," Mr. Sitohang explained, "it's improper. Now, you're a proper young lady, aren't you? Just play where I can see you."

"You're not fun!" Nardhia stomped her feet. "I wish we were still on a vacation on Silver Pine. Those were fun days. Kenta and Akira's parents never care about boys and girls being in each other's room. Akira can go to Kenta's room and he can go to hers any time."

"That's different. They're cousins!" Mr. Sitohang argued, "And don't be whiny. As long as you live under my roof, you follow my rules, understand? The Kinoyas have theirs, we have ours."

"Does this rule apply to Johan too?" Nardho chimed in, losing interest in his coloring book, "or maybe not because he's older? Can he bring his friend upstairs? Or are they staying downstairs?"

"Johan is subjected to all the same rules you two have to abide to."

"Could we make an exception just this time, Petrus?" Mrs. Sitohang intervened and put a hand on her husband's tense shoulder. "Johan and Bethany have agreed to watch a movie. Dark Flaming Horse Rising. It's an R-rated movie not suited for kids, so I think it's best if Nardhia take Tony upstairs and bring Nardho too. The movie would be too scary for them, anyway."

"Clara, a rule is a rule. If we bend it one time, who is to say we won't bend it next time?"

"I get that being consistent is important, but surely you won't make the twins and Tony sit through a horror movie not meant for their age, would you? There's a reason it's a restricted movie. There's a lot of blood and some of the scenes are full of gore and violence."

"There's violence in the Bible too," Petrus shrugged. "Let them watch the movie. We can't shield children forever from the ugliness of the world. They need to be taught that wickedness exists so that they don't become wicked themselves and instead seek God to set them on the path of good people. This is a teachable moment. Let them watch the movie."

"I agree that shielding children from ugly things is impossible, but I'm serious when I told you this movie is terrifying," Clara tried to stay calm but her hand started curling into a fist, "and by terrifying I mean it can really scar a child with how brutal some scenes are."

"Like I said, this is good opportunity to teach kids about the existence of wickedness," Petrus persisted in his argument, his voice raised higher, "and we can teach them not to be a wuss. I swear, Clara, some parents out there let their kids, especially their sons, be spineless faggots who get scared over nothing—monsters under their beds, the dark, their own shadows, I could go on."

"Dad, you're not supposed to say the F-word, it's unkind," Johan butted in, "it's a slur."

"I call those lame boys what they are," Petrus shrugged, "they're fag—"

"Dad!" Johan hissed. "I meant it when I said that term is hurtful. There is nothing wrong with having fear. We all have our own fear and I think that's normal. Fear doesn't make someone any less of a man. In fact, I would say that fear has no gender. So please, retire the F-word from your vocabulary. It's an outdated word, anyway, I don't get why some people still insist on using it."

"Hurtful? It's just a word, it shouldn't hurt!" Petrus let out a boisterous laughter. "Unless you are one of them. Are you, sonny? Are you one of them and that's why you're defending them?"

"N-no, of course not," Johan answered while staring at his feet to avoid meeting his father's eyes. "I was simply telling you my opinion, that's all. I believe our word choice matters."

"Words are just words, they're meaningless. What has our society become with all the talk about political correctness? Why do some people out there want to deny us our freedom of speech?"

"Look, Dad, no one is taking away your freedom of speech, but—"

"But enough. I won't tolerate you censoring me in my own house. There shall be no censorship in this house, ever. I call a spade a spade and that's it, I won't call it a knife or a fork or a sword."

"It's not my intention to censor you, Dad, I was just hoping—"

"Quiet! I said ENOUGH!" Petrus thundered and slapped Johan with such a force that the poor teenage boy lost his balance and fell backward, hitting his leg on the TV stand in the process.

"What the hell did you just do?!" Clara shouted while helping her son stand back up. "Why did you have to slap him like that? And in front of our guests too? He doesn't deserve your anger."

"Yes he does!" Petrus glared at her menacingly. "He needs to be put in his place and learn not to defy his parents. And you, woman, you need to mind your own business and let your husband punish this disobedient son of yours. I'm the head of this household and I'll act accordingly."

"You have no rights to call yourself head of this household when I'm the one who works myself to the bones while you waste your days away gambling!" Clara snapped. "How irresponsible."

"I might win one day and then you'll be sorry you ever talk to me with that tone."

"You're delusional!" Clara shouted with her arms crossed. "And a hypocrite too. You always call yourself a God-fearing Catholic but your behavior is anything but. Have you no shame?"

"I have nothing to be ashamed of when what I'm trying to do is to lead my family to the right path. A man is a leader, his wife and children are meant to listen to what he says, no buts or ifs."

"You're disgusting! What's wrong with you, Petrus? You've changed too much. You're no longer the man I agreed to marry twenty five years ago. What have you done to him?"

"And you're no longer the woman I proposed to. You've become like those angry feminists who are led astray by this fallen world that worships human ego rather than striving for godliness."

"Feminists don't worship human ego," Johan cut in through a grimace, "they simply demand that everyone is treated with respect no matter their gender, what's so hard to understand?"

"Demanding gender equality is a sin," Petrus scoffed, "God did not create humans equal, have you forgotten that? Women have their roles and so do men and that's the way God designed us."

"God gave Eve to Adam as a companion, not a slave," Johan retorted, "and as a companion to Adam she is his equal. Eve is not beneath Adam and to claim otherwise is to discredit her as a person. Women and men can work together instead of one having to be seen as the weaker sex."

"Do you want me to slap you again?"

"Please don't slap him!" Nardho ran to the living room and hugged Petrus' legs. "Please?"

"Why can't our family go one day without fighting?" Nardhia, who had finished her soda and was now trailing behind her twin, sighed sadly. "One day, that's all I ask for. No fight."

"Okay, meddling kids, you two win," Petrus threw his hands up, "your dearest brother is off the hook today but tomorrow if he's still being his annoyingly stubborn self I can't promise you he'll get away unscathed." Just like that, Petrus stormed off to his office, much to everyone's relief.

"Are you okay, Johan?" Bethany finally dared to open her mouth. "Your leg is bruised."

"I'm used to it. Trust me, that wasn't the worse beating I've ever gotten."

"It's gonna get swollen real bad if we don't ice it immediately!" Clara said while opening the freezer door. "Anyway, Bethany, I'm sorry you and your little brother had to witness that fight."

"I'm just glad it's over for now, Mrs. Sitohang, and that you're not hurt."

"I'm glad too. Now, let's watch the movie. But before that," Clara glanced at the three little kids huddling together on the couch, "I think it's better if the kids do their own thing. Hey, Tony?"

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Do you like basketball? There's a court just behind this building. Nardho and Nardhia can take you there. It doesn't have to be basketball, though. You can play tag. Just be careful and don't wander off too far. Also, take this with you guys," Clara handed him a lunch box, "I made some snacks. There's some Italian sausage and broccoli with cheese sauce if you get hungry."

"Yeay sausages!" Nardho jumped off the couch and hugged his mom. "You're the best."

"We're heading out, Mom!" Nardhia took Tony's hand and was about to follow Nardho outdoor before her mom called her back to hand her a tube of sunscreen and three hats.

"You don't want to get sunburned," Clara smiled. "I know it just rained but the sun is shining now and it can get hot pretty quick. Besides, it's good for your skin to wear sunscreen."

"Okay. I'll remind Nardho too."

***

Just like Clara had warned Petrus about, Dark Flaming Horse Rising was indeed powerful enough to traumatize a child. The movie started out innocent by introducing Jemima Estrella, a 13-year-old girl bestowed with the magical gift to turn into a black horse whenever she pleased. One day, however, Estrella found out that the horse spirit sleeping within her could turn berserk and breathe fire whenever she encountered injustice. The first time it happened was on her schoolyard when she witnessed several girls from her class made fun of a slightly younger girl on a wheelchair. Thankfully, the teachers didn't believe the bullies' story of Estrella's power and chalked up the fire burning in the yard as some shenanigan done by rowdy students.

The second time it happened was when her mom, Mrs. Estrella, barred her from going to a school dance because her grades were not perfect. Estrella had worked hard to get A+ in most of her school subjects, but she only managed to get B in her History and Economics classes. Feeling frustrated at her mom's demand for perfection and at having her effort unappreciated, Jemima unleashed the flaming horse and almost burn her house to the ground had her dad not called the firefighters in time. Her dad also contacted a shaman about performing a ritual to rid the horse.

Right before the movie reached its middle point, Bethany asked Johan to pause it.

"I know what's coming next because I've watched this movie before and I know I can't watch the next couple scenes without getting emotional," she told him, "and I don't want to let you see me in that state. I'll rather be dead than letting you see me cry."

"We don't have to keep watching," Johan turned the TV off, "but do you mind if I ask why this movie affects you to a great extent? I mean, I get that it's sad how Jemima accidentally killed both of her parents and then herself because the ritual failed and she ended up succumbing to the horse spirit's control, but you know it's just a movie, right?"

"I can relate to Jemima. Not about being mad at injustice, but about being unable to control anger. Johan, my home life is chaotic too. I never thought I'd tell you this, but after seeing what your dad did, I realized that maybe you would understand because if you don't, who will?"

"Your parents abuse you?"

"No, but I do fight a lot with my mom and grandma. It didn't use to be that way. We used to be happier, back before Tony was born. Back then, even though mom and dad were already separated, dad still sent money occasionally and would visit every Christmas. When he found out my mom was pregnant with a second child, however, the money transfer and the visitation stopped--I guess dad got cold feet about supporting not just one but two kids. I mean, he was just twenty two and mom twenty three when it happened. Anyway, since dad bailed on child support, grandma moved in with us. She did a lot of the housework during mom's pregnancy and she still does to this day. But mom is forever changed. She's no longer the fun mom who let me enjoy my hobbies. Nowadays, she's more like Mrs. Estrella, demanding perfection from me. The worst part? Grandma supports her way of parenting. Grandma even said at one point that she was right to raise me to be a perfectionist because it's a tough world for women and since all men are bastards they're not to be trusted, especially if they're not white."

"What does race have to do with this?"

"My dad has a Black Irish blood. He is a descendant of Irishmen who centuries ago moved out of Ireland to West Indies, to Venezuela to be precise. I'm mixed, even though I don't look like a mixed chick. Mom is convinced that all Black men are lazy womanizer. Over time, her prejudice extends not only to Black men but to dark-skinned individuals in general, males and females."

"Do you share her view, Bethany?"

"I don't, but I pretend to. She told me repeatedly that since dark-skinned men are bad it is okay to be mean to them. You're a dark-skinned boy, therefore—"

"Therefore it's been ingrained in you that it's okay to be mean to me," Johan guessed, and his voice was surprisingly calm. "You've internalized your mom's bias and made it your own."

"It's easier that way. It's easier to torment you because if my mom ever finds out that I like you then I would be in trou—"

"You like me?" Johan's eyes widened. "Oh Lord, never in a million year would I ever guessed."

"Forget I say anything! I take it back."

"Your secret's safe with me, Beth. I'm not telling a single soul. I have a secret of my own, so I'm good at keeping secrets. Anyway, thank you for liking me but I can't return your feelings."

"It's okay, I don't expect you to and I know we can't be a couple, even if my mom isn't a racist. You're already taken, aren't you? I won't get between you and your special person."

"Well, uh, it's complicated. Technically, yes, I'm seeing someone, but we're not making it public and so it's not a hundred percent official and we're coming back from a huge fight and—"

"So the rumors are true."

"W-What rumors?" Johan's eye twitched. "That I'm a sex addict like you called me one time?"

"Oh, you know what rumors! Everyone at school has been speculating that maybe you're gay."

"Do you have a problem with that?"

"I don't. It's not a big deal. You love who you love. I'll keep your secret, Johan, if you could keep another of mine. It's been bothering me for years and I... I need help."

"Don't tell me you're secretly a witch."

"Bad timing for a joke, Johan!" Bethany scolded him but she was clearly suppressing a smile before her expression turned sour. "My secret is that I'm worried one day I'll act on my desire to kill mom. I don't really want her dead. I just want to be free to be me. But unless she's dead, how could I be free? And this scares me. What kind of daughters would want to murder their moms? I'm sure that you have never wanted to kill your dad even though he beats you up."

"I don't know how to help you but I can offer listening ears," Johan said apologetically, "and you're wrong to assume I never have dark thoughts about my dad. I do. Sometimes when I'm alone I fantasize on what it would be like if he's hit by a truck. I don't want to dirty my hands with his blood, thus even in my fantasy it is external circumstances killing him, not me. I used to feel so guilty feeling this way, but nowadays I rationalize with myself that it's just fantasy."

"But what if one day you and I lose control, like Jemima did in the movie?"

"We won't. Not if we have something to anchor us. Something to remind us that what we're experiencing is temporary, that once we become full-fledged adults we can have our own lives."

"You're a lot more hopeful than I am, Johan. Tell me, how could I go looking for hope?"

"You don't have to look far. Beth, you love your little brother, don't you?"

"I do. He makes my life a little bit more bearable. But what does Tony have to do with hope?"

"I don't know if this trick will work for you, Beth, but a trick that works for me whenever I start being overwhelmed by anger and this desire to lash out and hurt my dad is to think of Nardho and Nardhia. If I hurt my dad, he would hurt me even worse and then I won't be able to be there for my siblings. I know our situation isn't exactly the same, Beth, but what I'm saying is if you hurt your mom then it might have bad repercussion that would also affect Tony."

"Could you promise me that all this pain will end one day?"

"One day. We just need to make it to adulthood. Just a couple more years."

"But what about our siblings? Unlike us, they're still a decade away from being adults."

"Fair point," Johan sighed, "let's just hope they're strong enough to endure everything."