Dark had fallen. Aaron sat relaxedly on the sofa, sighing as he continued to look out the window. His father was arriving home late again. Nothing in the quiet house sounded but his breathing and the ticking of a clock. At last he heard a clanking noise. He jumped out of the sofa and turned his head to the door. His dad came home, holding a bag in one hand and the keys in the other. Aaron walked to his father and volunteered to carry the briefcase to the bedroom. His father slumped into the couch.

   "How was school?"
   "It was fine. Nothing interesting happened today." Aaron climbed down the stairs and sat next to his old man. "How was work?"
   "Tiring, but it pays well," he said. He was about to get up when Aaron held him back by the shoulder.
   "It's late, dad. I'll be the one getting it..."
   "It's fine, son. You've been doing enough chores for the past week," his father insisted.

   He brushed off his son's hand and patted him on the back. He walked to the garage to gather two boxes of documents from the car's trunk. All Aaron had to do was open the door for him. After the boxes had been placed in the storage room, he told his son to go to sleep and went to the backyard to grab some things from the shed. Aaron did go to his bedroom, but he was still awake. All he wanted was to sit next to him and talk, but with the workload he had been getting there was barely any time left for chatting.

   Aaron lifted the curtain and gazed out the window. The sky was black and had no stars or moon to brighten it. He could see the backyards of his neighbors: some planted tall trees near the fences to hide their houses, others built tall fences, and the rest were separated by railings that were no more than four feet in height. The fence around his house was about three feet tall and made out of wood. It would be easy for someone to break in, though it had never happened before. However, just because it had never happened, it didn't mean that it was impossible. A figure slowly came into view. It didn't seem too suspicious. After all, it could've been one of the neighbors. Aaron released the curtain and laid on bed, ready to sleep. He rested his head on top of a pillow, tucked himself under the blanket, and closed his eyes...

   A scream pierced the air. Aaron sprang out of the bed and dashed out of his room. It came from the backyard. As he passed by the kitchen he snatched the nearest knife from the counter. He barged through the back door. His father had fallen to the grass and standing over his body was a man. A masked stranger. Aaron lunged forward. The man dodged his attack and jumped over the fence. Aaron ran after him. The stranger ran across the street, leapt onto the back of a truck, and disappeared. Aaron cursed. The only clue he had was a strange symbol carved into the wooden fence.

***

The funeral was held two days after the murder. Not many people attended, but Aaron was not surprised; he rarely saw his father mingle with other people. Tears streamed silently down his face as the body was lowered into the ground. His aunt patted him on the back as he rested his head on her shoulder.

   "It's m-my fault," he stammered, "because I wasn't able to s-save him that night. I-I saw the murderer there, standing near my dad, y-yet I didn't bother. And when it happened, I-I let him get away."
   "Don't blame yourself for what happened. Look at the bright side: he's with her now, in a better place," she said.
   "But why did he have to go so soon? Why n-now? I d-didn't even have the chance to say 'goodnight' and now he's g-g-gone."

   She didn't answer. Aaron stood weeping between the graves of his parents. Even after most of the attendees had left, he didn't want to leave. Saying 'goodbye' felt almost unbearable. In the end his aunt was able to convince him return to home. He laid a rose on each of the headstones and dragged himself out of the cemetery.

   He went to school the next day. He wanted to forget that he was an orphan and hoped that the day would go as usual, but the moment he arrived at the classroom his friends offered him their condolences. He was surprised that they knew.

   "Who told you that my dad died?" he asked them.
   "Shawn did," they replied. Shawn was a close friend of Aaron's. Aaron looked at the boy who was sitting at the far corner and walked slowly to him. The boy looked up.
   "Hey Shawn."
   "Aaron! I'm really sorry for your loss," the boy said somberly.
   "It's fine, thanks. I was just wondering how you knew that my dad died? I didn't tell you," Aaron questioned him.
   "Oh, that's because my dad told me. Our dads were coworkers, remember? He wanted to attend the funeral yesterday, but he had to go somewhere."

   The bell rang. Aaron opened his notebook and jotted down notes quietly as the teacher lectured them. He knew other people who suffered academically after losing a loved one, and he didn't want to be one of them. Dad wouldn't want it, he thought.

   Aaron sat alone during break time. His friends insisted on spending time with him, but he refused. He certainly wasn't in the mood to be social. His eraser-topped pencil and sketchpad were enough to keep him company. He drew the first thing that entered his mind: the symbol that was carved into the fence, which was also on the stranger's mask. He started with a circle, then a triangle, then a strange character that looked like a jumble of letters. He didn't know what it meant, nor did he care. He strolled back into the building as the bell called them back to class.

   Lunchtime was merrier. Aaron sat with his four close pals at the round table near the cafeteria entrance. Unlike most of his schoolmates, he brought his own lunch to school. That day he had scrambled eggs and a bacon sandwich. Two of his buddies came late to the table, bringing a box with them.

   "What's that?" asked Aaron.
   "I don't know, but it has your name on it," one boy replied. They set it on the table. Aaron opened it cautiously. Inside the box were half a dozen chocolate cupcakes.
   "That looks good!" said one.
   "You guys can have it. I don't feel like eating a lot," he told them.

   Four pairs of hands instantly grabbed the cupcakes, though only one person (a boy named Stuart) ate it immediately. While they were eating they talked animatedly about the latest gadgets on sale and the movies that were coming out the following week. Aaron was grateful that nobody mentioned his father's passing during the conversation, nor did anyone bring up his mother. Aaron took his last bite of his bacon sandwich and wiped his mouth clean. He still had room for dessert. His hands reached for the last cupcake in the box...

   Stuart fainted. They jumped off their seats and helped him up the floor. He couldn't stand. The four of them carried Stuart by the limbs and shouted "Excuse me!" as they made their way to the clinic. They barged through the doors. Upon seeing them, the nurse quickly attended to Stuart.

   "This is nothing too serious. He'll be alright soon," she told them. They breathed a deep sigh of relief.
   "I thought he was gonna die!" said a boy.
   "He would've died if you four weren't there to help. When did this happen?"
   "Just now. We were eating lunch when he fainted all of a sudden," said Aaron.
   "I don't know how it happened. We all had the same lunch, so it can't be poison," said Shawn. Right, Aaron thought, or the rest of the school would've fainted too. It had to be something else.
   "Did any of you guys eat the cupcake?" Aaron asked.
   "No." They shook their heads.
   "Then the cupcake must've been poisoned. Either that or he ate something poisonous at home, but that can't be because his sister didn't faint too," Aaron hypothesized.
   "But those were for you," one of his friends reminded him. "Are you saying that someone's trying to kill you?"
   "I don't know. Maybe we'll never know," he said. He glanced at the cupcake wrapper that fell from Stuart's hand. At the bottom of the wrapper was the same symbol that he saw carved on the fence.

***

It was time to head home. Aaron bade goodbye to his friends and walked his usual route. He couldn't help but think about what had happened lately; were the two events linked? Was there really an attempt to assassinate him? He took a glimpse of his surroundings. Nothing unusual. He continued to amble down the sidewalk. Chills ran down his spine as memories of the night flashed before him. He could imagine the man at his house, hiding behind the door as he waited for his next victim. Aaron looked back. A person's shadow nearly escaped his view. He continued to walk. He heard a nearby bush rustling. He stopped and looked back again. The bush didn't move. This time he jogged instead of walking. The faster he got home, the sooner he'd be safe...

   The sewer hatch opened just as he was about to step on it. He fell. Aaron stretched his arms out and managed to cling to the edge of the sidewalk. He glanced below. He could see nothing but darkness. He slowly climbed out of the hole and kicked the sewer hatch back into its spot. He took a closer look at it. The strange symbol was engraved into it too. There was no doubt that whoever that symbol represented wanted to kill him. Aaron dived his hand into his pocket and snatched his pocketknife. If he showed up again, Aaron thought, he won't get away this time.

   He looked back. The stranger didn't bother to hide himself this time. The two of them stood facing each other, blades in their hands. Aaron didn't hesitate. He lunged forward and cut the wrist. He blocked the man's punch and kicked him in the abdomen. He reached for the mask. The man stabbed his shoulder. It hurt, but it was bearable. Aaron dodged the man's next few attacks. Aaron stabbed the man's arm and removed the mask from his face. He gasped.

   "SHAWN!" Aaron bellowed.

   He slapped the knife out of Shawn's hand and slashed his forearm. He punched him repeatedly in the chest and kicked him to the ground. He held the blade above the heart. It was what he deserved.

   "Don't, please!" Shawn pleaded. Aaron didn't want to listen. He held the blade higher and swung his arm downward.

***

He decided to pay a visit. Aaron dropped by the detention center on the way home. He waited a few minutes before the officer told him that he could talk. He went inside the room to find Shawn sitting on the other side.

   "So you've come to see me," he scowled.
   "You should be thankful I spared your life."
   "Whatever. Just tell me why you're here."
   "I want to know why you killed my father," Aaron said. There was a moment of silence.
   "Keep your friends close," Shawn said, "and your enemies closer."