Jake blinked his eyes open, sleep still weighing heavily upon them, a crack of light slipping under his eyes lids. He glanced at the clock on his bedside table, wondering the time. 2:03 am. His heart dropped, his body tensed, a chill crawled up his spine. He turned his head ever so slightly, his eyes meeting a toothy smile and red eyes that burned fiercely in the darkness left behind him. Before he could react, gloved hands reached out and grabbed him, dragging him out of the safety and warmth of his bed. He tried to pull away, protesting and pleading for his release. But the man just ignored his cries, continuing to drag his son down to his lab just as he's done every night this week. Just like every morning, he made sure to wear long sleeves, covering the fresh bruises and the needle marks that decorated his arms and a jacket with a collar to cover the ones on his neck. His gloves helped hide his swollen wrists, evidence of his attempts to escape his bindings. He looked into the mirror, noticing the dark rings that had formed under his tired eyes. His skin seemed a bit pale, making the scar on his left cheek more noticeable than usual. He was disgusted with himself. He was a coward, too afraid to fight back. He sighed. But what was he to do? He looked at himself once more before heading out of the house to the nearest bus stop to meet up with Sherry. His mind wandered to the past. It didn't use to be like this. When he was a kid, he lived a happy life. Always smiling. Laughing. His family was happy together. But then his mother got sick and the doctor's couldn't help her. She passed away and his father seemed to become distant. As time went on and Jake grew older, him and his father got into fights all the time, but it was mostly just yelling and arguing. Then they ignored each other for a long time, barely speaking a word then suddenly, out of the blue, his father became violent. Showing up in the middle of the night with the devil's smile and dragging Jake down to his lab, torturing him, saying it was in the name of medical science. He couldn't figure out what made him snap. Jake was called out of his thoughts when he heard Sherry's voice. He looked up to see her sitting on the bus stop bench, waving him over. He smiled and jogged over to her. A few moments later the public bus came and they got on, riding it into town to the mall. Jake wandered around, following Sherry from store to store, looking at everything. He waited patiently as she tried some clothes on and showed them to him, asking his opinion. He just nodded, saying it looked good. His mind still thinking back to the night before. He shook his head trying to push the thoughts away. They continued their little shopping spree for a little while longer before heading back home. As they approached the bus stop, Jake checked his phone for the time, realizing how late it had gotten. He grew uneasy, fearing his return home. Sherry seemed to notice how tense he had gotten "What's wrong?" Her voice was woven with concern. Jake just looked at her, putting on the best smile he could muster, not wishing to worry her "Nothing." She looked him in the eyes and sighed "If something is wrong, you know you can tell me Jake." She placed a caring hand on his shoulder, he flinch slightly, hoping she didn't notice any of the marks. "It's nothing." He shook his head and smiled down at her "You worry too much." He patted her on the head. After they parted at the bus stop, Jake continued to wander the streets until an hour after the sun had set. Jake slowly entered his house, his eyes on the look out for his father. All the lights were off except for one in the kitchen. He silently crept to it's golden sanctuary, looking around. He could tell his father had recently been cleaning, the place was spotless. The dishes stacked neatly in the dry rack. He leaned around the corner and peered down the hallway and saw a small crack of light creeping out from under Wesker's door. Jake turned out the light in the kitchen then retreated back to his room. Jake shucked his jacket off, tossing it on his dresser before crashing onto his bed. He stretched out, folding his arms behind his head, looking to make sure his door was shut and locked before giving in to sleep.