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You're home alone, minding your own business, when you hear the distinct sounds of doors closing and footsteps moving around the house. Upon investigation (should you choose to), you find nothing out of sorts…but the footsteps and doors continue to make noise every time you give up the search. This happens all night, and you can almost swear you see things out of the corner of your eye. It's a restless night, but come morning everything seems back to normal--except, you still have no idea what was going on.
He was going to slap his mom and dad. It was 4 in the morning, and since he’d gone to bed at 9 pm, they kept getting up and moving around. Not for anything in particular. Just walking and stomping and being general pains as he often thought of them as. And while yeah, he didn’t hate them, he had grown to actively dislike them as of late. They kept asking questions about his social life, (or lack of it rather), if he found a girl given his reactions, (yeah sure mom, let me tell you about this older woman I have kissed and gone on a date with who might very well kill me and I’d thank her for it), they kept demanding he start thinking about college and how he needs to work harder if he ever wants to become a surgeon, (he does not. In fact, he’d very much like to avoid anything that involved bodies. People in general really. Was there a job that required no human contact? He’d like that. In fact, he’d like it a LOT truth be told).
End result- Max had begun to resent his parents for being parents and like any teen he was rebelling by being a brat and disobeying them in small ways. Such as avoiding doing house work or leaving dirty dishes in the sink or not taking down the laundry in the hamper. Yeah, he was really sticking it to the man, that live in establishment that were his legal guardians.
Grunting as he put a pillow over his head for what felt like the dozenth time, max resisted the urge to bust out of his room and yelling. His therapist said he’d been doing so well lately with his anger issues. That he might finally being able to control his outburst. Joke was on them, he barely had control and usually used it when fighting youma. They made for good therapeutic violence even though the therapist would tell him no, that’s not a healthy outlet. Same therapist also thought that he needed to find god and renounce homosexuality but that’s what he got when his mom insisted that he might be gay given his lack of female companions.
Yeah. Go find a girlfriend we expect you to want to ******** her but if you have sex you’re sinning and in for a beatdown. Made perfect sense. Jokes on them because if he had sex it was well. Alone. And the only woman he was remotely interested in… heat hit his face. He’d rather not think about that.
Another slam of a door helped quell those thoughts, demons they were.
Grumbling, Max glared at his door, as if willing whoever was making the noise to stop. Better, to just never make noise again. He wanted to sleep, was that too much to ask? Another bang. Apparently so. Turning in his bed, Max screamed into a pillow. God help him he was about to power up and just go sleep on a park bench with his blanket and a pillow.
Another bang, and he went and did just that.
