"How do you run away from the monsters inside your own head?"

Seth was hiding again. In a way wasn't he always? Crouched in the closet, under a table? Hiding from what? Well most often, his own family. Sometimes even himself. He wished he could forget that, he wanted it so bad. You'll always wish you could just run away, leave them to rot. Of course it would never happen. They were so much smarter, so much faster, stronger, more powerful. Power, funny word ain't it? Powerful. Seth repeated it in his head a few times, letting the words ring in his brain. It felt- good. Like maybe he was worth something after all. Of course, another impossibility.

A bang downstairs startled him from his spot slid neatly under his bed. He's supposed that he enjoyed small spaces. Easy to tidy, and it wasn't much he had to put in them anyways. He's supposed he could get always get it, but going through the process of asking for permission to leave was too much for him right now. It could always go both ways. He's supposed to go to school, today wasn't he? What time was it anyhow? Oof... No earlier than 4:00 a.m.

Well he could make it work. With another regretful sigh he pulled out from under the bed sneezing as it stirred up dust. Tiredly, he put his hands back and pushed himself onto his feet using the wall as a support. He could hear his breathing quite clearly the tell-tale soft whistle of his nose giving it away. It had done that ever since he was six and broken his nose for the first time. He'd immediately pushed it back into place feeling no more pain than what happened everyday when he went home. The other kids at school were quite freaked out but he didn't suppose it was that important. Apparently it was. As his dad went on for hours about how important it was not to draw attention to yourself. Seth truly enjoyed that. First time his Dad had talked to him that year...

The 17 year old looked at himself in the cracked mirror, his mind murmuring something about how a shattered mirror brings bad luck. The stared at the hairbrush and dragged it through his hair with a tired sigh. The area under his eyes looked sullen and baggy. His discolored eyes, one one green, one such a pale gray it was ghostlike. His pale paper white skin contrasted brightly with his more neutral clothing choices, or it would if he wasn't brushed with dust and dirt.

Seth walked very silently on the creaky floorboards and onto the freezing tile floor of the bathroom. Without really thinking about it, he turned on the sink and washed his face and hands clean, before putting a slight brush of makeup across his face. Nothing drastic, just enough to keep him from unwanted attention.

Seth stared at his reflection for a couple more minutes- before ruining it, splashing water across the makeup and letting it run. Ridiculous, wasn't it the concept of blending into the background? The best way to blend in was always to stand out and he was doing a terrible job with that. He changed his clothes a basketball tank top even though he didn't play basketball... Some denim jeans, dark navy blue and ripped at the knees. A beanie to cover his ears and hair which stuck out briefly underneath the maroonish hat. He turned his emotionless expression into a cocky smirk, a trademark he had seen in several actors on TV.

Hahaha, oh God he looked different. For the makeup he cleaned up the bags under his eyes put some fake freckles on, and did a bit of eyeshadow, barely noticeable completely clear- just a bit of glitter. He wasn't some drag queen for sure, but he figured this was decent. A nice warm jacket, electric green, finishing the look with a pair of combat boots. Damn. He was hot. And had a very inflated head probably with these thoughts.

With a smirk and a finger gun to the mirror, he grabbed his backpack and stuffed the delivery for the day. He didn't want to look what was inside it, didn't want to know to be honest. Could only be something illegal or horrifying. Or just plain absolutely incorrect in any form of moral society. Society- something his dad had sworn to break. Seth didn't care that much, actually. Seemed pretty boring, but he preferred it preferred it to the other side of his dad's work line. James Moriarty was not a man to be trifled with- and the intended to raise a son that could give you the same feeling of terror and respect in an instant.

Seth stepped outside smiling at the soft blanket of snow that seemed to cover the land. Or more accurately the buildings. New York was quite the place. He grabbed a skateboard, black with neon yellow stripes down, quite a nice one. He shredded down the street, smirking as the bits of melted snow caught under the wheels and splashed around, spraying little cool droplets around his boots and pants. He got to the address that was designated for this package, a rather... Downhill sort of bar, and put on his threatening menacing- who is he kidding, he imitated his dad. Handing the package to the person with a bit of sleight of hand, he slipped out of the bar yet again. Skating to school again now, backpack handmade out of Denim and Leather, hand sewn. Maybe even slightly embroidered... Hopefully nobody would notice, Seth did not want to deal with this scandal right now.