Caleb's P.O.V.

        I woke up two sounds, both very distinct. The sounds were a violence in the air, a way to take the anger from my dad and transfer the tension in Luke. He didn't just raise his voice, his muscles tensed and he got right in close for maximum impact. If the shouts were visible they'd be reaching over the air, strangling the life from Luke. As the words got more bitter it would be possible to see why he gasped for breath. After that, he would give in, slumping his shoulders, lean on his car, do whatever it takes to make the confrontation end.I watched for a while, lips sealed. There was no way that this night was going to end on a good note. 

        Chris made his way to the passenger side of the car, drawing the door open. He practically pulled me out of it. His fingers seemed to dig into the thin skin above my shoulder as he dragged me along the pavement. I was pulled upright in front of Dad. "Where the hell have you been, Caleb?" He questioned, lowering his frame a bit. Insanity was still in his eyes, but his voice seemed to calm down. 

        "I-I went out. Come on Dad, you knew this was going to happen. You're acting like I smoked something illegal. I promise it won't happen again." My voice was quiet, but stern. 

        My mother broke in,"I knew this was going to happen. I knew that you were obsessed with that band." I simply ignored her, but now it was Mom's turn to get angry. Her face mottled crimson, her eyes popped, her veins popping out of her neck. Her words were spat out with the ferocity and rapidity of machine gun fire. Without wiping the spit from my face, I leaned closer, perfectly composed and uttered "If I'm so obsessed with ST3LLAR, why didn't you stop this. It's not like I had anything better to do. I barely have any friends and when's the last time you saw me stay after school." Her fuse simmered and fizzed like a firework in a chill autumn breeze, then she exploded with unrestrained fury. 

        "We might as well send you to military school! At least your attitude would be put into check. I'm tired of this. The songs, the depression, everything." Mom held up her hand, pointing accusingly at the famous singer.

        "This is your fault. All of it is your fault. I hope you rot in hell for what you did to this family." She fell to the ground, her face another shade of red altogether. Dad did his best to comfort her, but it wasn't working. He glanced at me through his squinted eyes and sour face. 

        "Go to your room." He said it again and again. Each time the words came out of his mouth, the tone of his voice got louder. I obeyed, peering at Luke for the last time tonight. 

♪♪♪

        As I lay in bed, I heard the first familiar rumbles of thunder from the kitchen. Dad's booming voice seemed to shake the walls. It was quickly echoed by the shrill tones of my mother that electrified the air. Pulling my head under the pillow, I waited for the storm to abate.

        Luke had somehow snapped out of his trance and managed to get back in his car. His face was a mixture of fear and regret, a face that I knew all too well. After he drove off, Dad led everyone into the house. We all looked like we had just run a marathon. Cherry-faced, out of breath, and agitated. 

        I was immediately sent up to my room while the rest of the family debated on my punishment. After a while, I heard Chris go to his room, but not before hearing the door slam shut. Here I was, waiting for my parents to come to a decision. The noises had died down, but that didn't mean that they had moved. 

        I decided to get a better look at my room, now cleaned and tidy. The room contained a small bed, two straight-backed chairs, and a dresser and a banged up desk. There were no drapery curtains at the windows, no pictures on the wall. All night the moon had been pouring down upon the roof, and the little room was painfully cold. As there were no screens, the windows had not been raised. A big fly was buzzing angrily at one of them now, up and down, up and down, trying to get out. I watched it with curiosity to keep my mind off everything that had happened.

        Then there was a knock on my door. It was very soft, yet I heard it. I practically hopped out of bed, gripping the door knob as if my life depended on it. It was cold too. When I turned back to the window, the fly was gone.