I don't know most character names just going with it. Tell me the character name when you have it :D The brass doorknob feels like ice against my palm as I turn it, millimeter by millimeter. I open the door of my house slowly, terrified of the loud whine the hinges usually make if they are rushed. The second the gap widens, a sudden rush of fresh morning air hits my chest. I step onto the porch and take a deep breath, feeling the cool current fill my lungs and wash away the stale, heavy scent of the house. Before I take a single step forward, I look behind me. My eyes strain in the shadows, carefully scanning the dim hallway, making absolutely sure my brother isn’t awake. I hold my breath, listening. There. The heavy, rhythmic sound of snoring coming from his bedroom. Good. Fast asleep. Relief washes over me. I walk out onto the porch, pulling the door closed behind me with agonizing slowness until it clicks into place. Taking one last deep breath of pure freedom, I turn on my heel and head toward the open field. It’s a nice place, really. Here in Livingston, Montana, the world feels endless if you go out far enough. It's a small town, isolated and quiet, but when you are trapped in a house like mine, this empty space is enough. I walk down the familiar dirt path, shoving my hands deep into my jacket pockets to shield them from the frost. It’s incredibly chilly out, the frozen grass crunching beneath the soles of my boots, but the cold won’t stop me. Not today. I reach the perimeter of our property, place both hands on the wooden rail, and jump over the fence. I walk cautiously, my heart thumping with a mix of excitement and lingering fear, until I reach a small hill in the center of the field. I sit on top of the dead grass, pulling my knees to my chest. Finally, the sun starts to rise over the jagged peaks in the distance. The gray clouds open up like curtains, and the heavy black sky begins to bleed into a vibrant, fiery red. Then it softens into a brilliant orange, before finally washing out into a pale, clean blue. I sit there, mesmerized, watching the light reclaim the valley. And then it is over. Just like that, the magic fades into an ordinary morning. I stand up, brushing the dirt from my jeans. Time to go home. The reality of my life comes rushing back. In the distance, I hear the lowing of cows waking up, and the sound makes me quicken my pace. A cold spike of anxiety hits my stomach. I am not supposed to be here. Jax made that rule clear. I reach the edge of the field and hop back over the fence, my boots landing heavily on the dirt. Okay, I’m alright. I’m safe. I walk the rest of the way home, my eyes darting to the neighboring tree lines, anxiously wondering if anyone saw me out here. I climb the porch steps, my chest tight. I turn the knob and open the door. My breath hitches. Standing right in front of me, waiting in the shadows, is my brother. "Ethan James Moore, where were you?" his voice grates. It is low, raspy, and dangerous. My throat goes completely dry, my saliva turning to ash. I try to play it cool, swallowing hard as I attempt to step past him into the kitchen. But his hand shoots out like a striking snake. His fingers wrap around my shoulder, gripping the bone hard enough to leave a bruise through my sweater. The safety and peace of the open field vanish in a single second. I am trapped again. "I asked you a question, Ethan," he snaps. Before I can answer, he shoves me backward. The force sends me flying against the doorframe, and the hard wood digs painfully into my spine. "Who were you meeting?"
My jaw locks tight. My vocal cords feel like solid ice. I want to scream at him. I want to tell him I was just watching the sunrise, that I was just trying to breathe, but the words get completely stuck in my throat. My brain short-circuits, and I completely freeze, staring at him like a deer in headlights. Jax steps even closer, his chest nearly touching mine, blocking out the rest of the room. His eyes narrow, scanning every inch of my face for a lie. But there is no lie to find—all he sees in my eyes is pure panic. "Answer me!" he barks. The sudden, explosive sound makes me flinch violently. Inside my jacket pockets, my hands automatically tighten into white-knuckled fists. My eyes go wide as a horrific realization suddenly dawns on me. I see the jealous rage in his face. I realize exactly what he thinks I am doing out in the dark. "I wasn't with Kaylee," I blurt out. The words explode from my mouth, coming out much louder and more frantic than I want them to. Instantly, a sickening pool of regret floods my stomach. I shouldn't have said her name. Jax’s face darkens. He pushes me against the wooden frame even harder, pinning me in place so I can't even slide down. "Don't lie to me," he mutters, his voice dropping to a dangerous, deadly whisper. Before I can even blink, Jax suddenly strikes me across the face. The sheer force of his open palm rings through my skull, sending me crashing sideways onto the hard floorboards. White spots dance in my eyes, and my face burns like fire. But instead of continuing the beating, instead of kicking me while I'm down, Jax just stops. He lets out a disgusted breath, turns around, and walks away into his room, slamming his door shut. I am left sitting alone against the wall, the taste of copper in my mouth. I slowly stand up, wiping my lip, staring down the dark, empty hallway toward Jax's closed door. Then I turn back toward the exit. My hands are shaking. This is all too much. It isn't fair. I can't live like this for another second. I burst out the front door and run out into the bright morning air, running as fast and as far as my legs will carry me. I sprint down the dirt path. The brilliant morning sun is high now, blinding my eyes and blurring the trees, but I don't stop. I can't. My boots pound a frantic rhythm against the frozen earth. Behind me, a sound cuts through the air. The front door slams open against the house with a deafening crack. "Ethan!" Jax’s voice roars, echoing across the quiet, sleeping valley. I risk a glance over my shoulder. He is already running. His heavy, athletic footsteps are dangerously fast, gaining on me with every second. Panic spikes through my system, freezing the very blood in my veins. As I sprint, my hand deep inside my jacket pocket brushes against something. My fingers touch the cold, familiar metal casing of my pocket knife. I always carry it for my walks in the woods—it's just a harmless tool for carving wood or cutting rope. But right now, as Jax’s long shadow stretches out over the dirt ahead of me, threatening to swallow me again, that piece of metal feels like a lifeline. I don't even make it to the fence line. A heavy, crushing weight slams violently into my back. The impact knocks every bit of wind out of my lungs, and I crash face-first into the dirt, the taste of soil and dead grass filling my mouth. Before I can even attempt to scramble away, Jax violently flips me over onto my back. He pins my shoulders down, slamming his heavy knees into my ribs to lock me to the ground. I look up at him. His face is twisted into something monstrous, completely unrecognizable in the bright morning light. "You think you can just run away from me?" he roars, his voice vibrating in my chest. Before I can scream, his large hands slam down around my throat. And he squeezes. Instantly, the quiet valley around me starts to blur into a smear of green and brown. My airway locks up tight, and a terrifying, cold panic takes absolute control over my entire body. I claw frantically at his wrists, digging my fingernails into his skin, but his grip is like iron bands. My lungs burn, begging for oxygen. The bright blue sky above us begins to turn black at the edges, creeping inward. I am going to die out here. He is going to kill me. With the very last bit of my fading strength, as my arms begin to feel heavy and useless, I slide my right hand back into my jacket pocket. My trembling, numb fingers wrap around the cold metal of my pocket knife. I flick it open blindly inside the fabric. I pull it out. Then, I strike upward.
