The sun streamed through the window, painting the small room in a warm, golden light. It should've been a peaceful afternoon, a perfect time for Red to spend with his friends and his mom, but instead, he was trapped in a silent storm. He sat huddled on the floor next to his bed and hugging his knees to his chest, his eyes wide and unblinking, burning with unshed tears, but he couldn't bring himself to close them. His breaths came in ragged gasps, his heart a frantic drum against his ribs.

How long had it been since he'd crawled out of bed? He couldn't even remember.

His body was slick with sweat, the remnants of a nightmare that had jolted him awake. The memory of it was hazy, only the suffocating terror and the burning pain in his eyes, as the chilling details were etched into his soul: Victim's menacing grin, the icy grip on his chin, the suffocating sense of dread... it all came rushing back.

He ran a shaky hand through his hair, trying to smooth down the unruly strands that stuck up like startled feathers. Then, he thought of Second, his sweet and amazing friend, and the way he made him feel… warm. But Victim's threat hung over him like a dark cloud, a constant reminder that he couldn't be careless.

Red's mind raced, knowing he couldn't keep this bottled up forever. He needed to talk to someone, but who? His friends? His mom? Green? The thought of involving any of them sent a fresh wave of fear washing over him. He didn't want to burden them with his problems, especially not now, with everything his mom and Green were going through. And what about Second? The thought of Second, with his emerald eyes and charming smile, brought a flicker of warmth to Red's chest. He loved hanging out with him, their conversations, the budding feelings he couldn't quite deny… but the thought of Victim ruining everything felt like a knife twisting in his gut. He was trapped in a silent nightmare, unable to escape the fear that clawed at his throat.

"Red, honey. Lunch is ready!". Red's mom's voice, warm and comforting, drifted up the stairs.

He swallowed, the taste of salt from his tears lingering on his tongue. He clenched his fists, digging his nails into the soft fabric of his shirt and wishing it could stop his heart from beating this fast. He choked back a sob, his throat constricted with unexplainable pain. He didn't want to worry her, not now, not after everything she'd been through. His father's abuse to both of them, the legal battle for custody, the stress of starting over, she had enough on her shoulders.

He took another deep breath, trying to steady his racing heart. He had to get it together. He had to. He couldn't let the fear win, not today. He had to be strong for her, had to hide the fear simmering beneath the surface.

"C-Coming, mom!". He called back, his voice barely above a whisper as it cracked slightly. It came out strained and tight, but at least it was a sound. He forced himself to take another deep breath, his lungs burning with the effort. He wanted to scream, to shout and rage against the nightmare that Victim caused, but all he could do was clench his jaw and hold back the tears that threatened to spill over again. He straightened, forcing himself to stand tall, to appear calm, feeling the sweat clinging to his skin, making his already too-tight shirt even more uncomfortable.

He had to figure this out. Victim was playing with his head, and Red knew it. It was all a power game, but what could he do? He couldn't stay in his room forever. He had to face the world, even if it felt like the world was out to get him. Taking a deep, shaky breath, he forced a smile at his reflection. It was a painful, almost grotesque distortion of his usual bright, playful grin. He had to be strong, he had to be brave. He had to pretend everything was okay.

As he moved towards the door, his eyes accidentally glanced at his reflection on the mirror, making him look down at his scarred arms, the reminders of his father's abuse. They were a constant ache, a physical manifestation of the pain that never truly left him. Unfortunately, his right arm was the most scarred, with a wound running from his elbow all the way up to his shoulder. His gaze drifted to the window, the harsh sunlight seemed to mock his misery.

"Fucking calm down, Red... Everytime's gonna be...". He muttered, his voice a strained whisper as he couldn't even finish the lie.

He didn't know when, or why. But He could feel his hands clenching around his neck all of a sudden, his nails digging into his skin. His breath came in ragged gasps, the air feeling thick and heavy as the pressure was a little fleeting comfort. He didn't want to think about Victim, about the world being unfair to him since birth. He hated the fear it instilled in him, the way it choked his every thought. Hated this feeling of helplessness, the way he couldn't control his own body, his own messed up emotions.

"Red, hurry up, sweetie!!". His mom called again, her voice a soothing balm against the storm raging inside him.

His hands quickly released their grip on his neck, finally realizing what he was doing to himself. He swallowed, the dry lump in his throat catching on the words. He couldn't just walk out there, not like... this. He couldn't let her see him crumble, to see how messed up her son was.

"Y-yeah, I-I'm coming". He stuttered, trying to sound normal. His legs were wobbly and shaky, his body covered in a clammy sheen of sweat. He glanced again at his reflection in the dusty window pane, his hand instinctively going to his neck, tracing the faint outline of where his fingers had dug in moments before. He knew he looked terrible, with the sight of his own bruised skin, a tangled mess of red hair and puffy eyes. Why did Victim have to make him feel so... broken?

He took a hesitant step towards the door, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts and anxieties. He wasn't sure if he was ready to face his mom yet, but he knew he couldn't stay locked in his room all day. She always knew when something was wrong, even if he tried his hardest to conceal it. But the thought of telling her about Victim, about the fear that had been gnawing at him for days, made his stomach churn.

Still, he managed to walked out of his room, the door swinging shut behind him, and headed for the kitchen. The scent of roasted chicken and his mom's delicious mashed potatoes wafted towards him, a comforting reminder of normalcy. He saw her setting the last plate on the table, her face alight with a smile that faded a bit when she saw him.

She knew.

However, not a word came out of her mouth. She just simply gestured for him to come sit next to her, a soft, unspoken question in her eyes. Red swallowed, trying to force a smile that came as fake as ever. He sat down, the warmth of the wooden chair grounding him.

He reached for his fork, the silence in the room a comforting weight. They ate in quiet, the only sound coming from the clinking of their silverware against their plates. The warmth of the food and the presence of his mom, the only person who truly cared and understood him, helped to ease the tension within him.

Though, Red could feel her gaze on him, her unspoken questions hanging in the air. He knew she knew something was up, but she didn't ask, as she was waiting for him to confide in her. He wanted to tell her, to share the burden, but the words caught in his throat. He was afraid of what might happen if she knew, a confrontation, anger, the possibility of things getting even worse! He knew she'd protect him, but he also knew that Victim would never hesitate to threaten her as well.

Red took another bite of food, his mind racing like a roller coaster. He had to find a way to get rid of Victim, he had to protect himself and his mom, and he had to protect the fragile happiness they had built. But how? He knew someone had to know eventually, like perhaps, Green and Second, but for now, he needed to figure out how to tell his mom first, how to tell her without causing her more worry.

He needed to find a way to make it all go away, a way to make Victim disappear from his life for good.

"Um... Mom?". Red, still staring at his plate, swallowed hard, feeling the lump in his throat like a stone. He took a deep breath, the air catching in his throat as he had finally managed to lift his gaze from his plate, eyes were still puffy from crying.

"O-Oh! Yes, sweetie?!". His mother's face softened, a relieved and happy smile replacing the concern that had been etched on her features.

"I, uh... I have a question". He stammered, his hand tightened around his fork, the metal cold against his fingers. His mother immediately put down her own fork, the warmth in her smile reaching out to him like a beacon.

"Of course, sweetheart! What is it?". She asked, leaning forward and trying to be as calm as possible. Red fiddled with his food, his fingers nervously tracing the edges of his plate while trying to find the right words before saying,

"What if... what if there's someone who hates you, like, for no reason? And you don't even know why?". And after hearing this, her eyebrows shot up and her forehead crinkled, a look of confusion crossing her face, as she wasn't expecting such a question.

"Hate? For no reason? What do you mean, Red?".

Red's cheeks burned, suddenly nervous and hesitant to reveal the full story. Victim was a bully, plain and simple, but he couldn't bring himself to tell her about the things he did. He didn't want to see the worry and hurt in her eyes. So instead of telling her the full truth, he tried to rephrase his question, making it less specific.

"It's just… there's a kid in my class who doesn't like me. He can't even… stand me?". Red began, his voice barely a whisper, as he looked up at his mother, trying to gauge her reaction. In that moment, Red saw the worry on his her face, her eyes were wide, and her lips were pressed into a thin line. She reached across the table and gently cupped his face, her thumbs brushing his wet cheeks.

"Red". She said, her voice a low murmur, her voice laced with concern before adding,

"Are you sure everything's alright at school? I-Is someone giving you trouble?".

He was startled by the worry in her voice, but he felt a warmth bloom in his chest. He loved the way his mom worried about him, the way she made him feel like the most precious thing in the world.

But he still felt a pang of guilt, remembering all the times he had been bullied as a child, the times he was punched and thrown away by his so-called father, how his mom had been powerless to help him then. He knew how much this hurt her, how much she wanted to protect him. He knew she'd go ballistic if she knew the truth, probably even storm into the school and give Victim a piece of her mind. But he also knew she was doing her best to be the mom she couldn't be before.

"Mom, it's okay. Everything's fine. Really". He reached out and took her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze and tilting his head, his smile widening,

"You don't have to worry too much".

His mom's worried look lingered, her hands trembling slightly. But seeing Red's smile, even if it was a little shaky, she couldn't help but smile back, leaning down to kiss his forehead, her lips lingering for a moment. Red giggled, a little embarrassed, but he didn't pull away. He let her shower him with love, even if it was a little forced, because he knew she was trying.

"you can always tell me anything, you know that?". He nodded, feeling his eyes start to well up again. He leaned into her, burying his face in her shoulder and closed his eyes.

"I... I know. I just don't want you to worry". He admitted, only making his mother chuckle, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug.

"Oh, honey, I worry about you all the time. I'm your mom, that's what moms do!". He laughed, the sound small and choked, but it felt good to be held by his mom, to feel her love wrapping around him like a warm blanket. She continued to rub circles on his back, her fingers tracing patterns through his shirt. The soothing touch, the warmth of her embrace, it all seemed to melt away the tension in Red's body.

Their comfortable silence was shattered by the sharp ring of the phone coming from the living room. The sound was like a gunshot in Red's ears, jolting him out of his peaceful state. He opened his eyes, hating the intrusion, wondering who it could be. His mom, too, seemed disturbed by the interruption.

"I'll go check it. You stay here and finish your food". She broke the hug and patted his head, her voice regaining its usual warmth.

He watched her leave the room, the sound of her footsteps fading into the distance. He felt lighter, more at ease now. He sighed, his stomach rumbling with hunger, and took another bite of his food.

He was hungry, he realized, really hungry.

The warmth of the mashed potatoes, the savory taste of the chicken, it was like a balm to his soul. As he ate, Red realized he was famished, the food tasting like heaven. He devoured the rest of his meal, his worries momentarily forgotten.

(This chapter is kinda depressing, don't you think? I mean, Idk about you guys but I didn't really like this chapter, especially since it's a hard thing to write about considering the fact that suppressing your feelings are very bad and unhealthy. And bad!!

But not to ruin the fun, I too enjoyed the relationship between Red and his mom, seeing them trying to help and be there for each other is just so sweet. Mom's comfort is just the best!! Along with sisters'.
And I was planning to write more, didn't forgot about Blue's little get together, but I noticed I wrote over 2529 words, so I had to stop.

And I'm kinda having a problem deciding if I should write about Red and his mom going to meet Blue's family, or just go straight to the next day at school. A little help from you guys might be good since I'm a bit exhausted, lol.

Hope you enjoyed it and see you next week ❤️☺️).