I ran up the doorsteps to my house and pulled out the key. I shoved it in the keyhole and slowly turned it, not wanting to make any noise. Then I quietly cracked the door open, making enough space for me to slip in unnoticed.

I tried. I really did try to get in silently. But the moment I shut the door, my mom, also known as Brenda O'Brien, appeared out of nowhere, leaning against the hallway wall. She crossed her arms.

"Where were you, Terry?" she asked.

I paused. "Um…I was combat training with Minho. Nothing out of the norm."

My mother sighed. "I assumed that much, Terry. I meant, where were you at school?"

Whelp. I was doomed. "You noticed?" I asked weakly.

"You must think I'm insane if I didn't notice my own child was missing from my own class," Mom replied in a matter-of-factly way.

"Not gonna lie, then. I ditched," I said. She gave out another long sigh.

"Terry, you've got to stop ditching school. It's not good," my mom started, probably beginning another lecture. I wasn't in the mood to hear a whole speech that only goody-two-shoes would listen to and follow.

I cut her off. "I'm sorry, okay? It's just that I already know all of the things they teach me, and I get bored. I'll stay in school without ditching for the entire week next time. So please, just save the lecture for another time."

She raised her eyebrows. She must have realized I was sacrificing my own pride when I used the words "sorry" and "please."

"Okay then. But please try to be on time to dinner too. You always worry us when you're late," she said, concern creasing her forehead.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I just love hand-to-hand combat." Jeez, there must be something wrong with me today. I've said sorry at least 2 times and thank you at least 2 times too.

Mom nodded. "Dinner is on the table."

As I approached the dining room, I heard voice talking. I grinned as I recognized them. I burst through the kitchen door. Just as I predicted, Frypan was seated at the table across from my dad. Frypan was one of my dad's old friends who went through the Maze with him. His cooking was amazing. I chose the wrong day to be late for dinner. Oh well.

"There's something called turning the doorknob and opening the door, you know," my dad said. "You don't open it by just body-slamming it."

"I know how to open a door, Dad," I said. But then I saw the look in his eyes and softened. Today must have terrible for him. To explain what happened to him and what WICKED made people go through must have been especially painful, since he's the one who went through most of it. Even though he's happy here, he still carries the sorrow of losses on his shoulders. The same goes for Minho. I think they're both extremely brave to be able to keep the sadness inside them. Talking about their past must be like reliving the whole nightmare.

"Sorry," I said hurriedly, trying to fix my words. "Your lesson today was good. Thanks for coming in." Oh gosh, I sound so cheesy. Dad, just like Mom, sensed my effort in trying to be thoughtful.

"Thanks, Terry," he said, smiling lightly. I nodded. Then I turned to Frypan.

"Welcome home, Terry," Frypan said with a teasing grin. "Just in time for dinner."

I stuck out my tongue at him. Settling down in a chair, I concentrated on trying not to eat like a pig. Truth was, I was starving, but I wasn't about to show my disgusting side to other people. So I ate the grand meal politely, using table manners. Ugh. Table manners are overrated, but whatever.

To rival with my angry feelings, the meal was so delicious I wanted to sob and laugh at the same time. Rare roasted beef cut into paper- thin slices. Creamy mashed potatoes drenched with thick gravy. Sweet corn overflowing the plate. I'm not ashamed to say that I had seconds.

After dinner and a quick goodbye to Frypan, I rushed upstairs. I swiftly took a warm shower and got into my pajamas. I was planning to go to sleep right away, but unfortunately, I found my little 10-year old brother Isaac playing with my other little brother Charlie, who was 5 years old, in my room.

Isaac had curly blonde hair for some reason. I would have teased him by telling him he was adopted, but the thing was, I was at the hospital when he was born. And after my mother's labor was done, I got to see him. So I doubt he was really adopted. His sharp blue eyes looked exhausted. Isaac was apparently named after Isaac Newton, a famous scientist.

What had confused me about this was that when Dad told this to Isaac, he had said, "You were named after the great scientist Isaac Newton. Like Newt." Dad's expression had dampened after he said the name "Newt." I wonder who that is.

Charlie, on the other hand, was practically bouncing off the walls. He had curly hair too, but his was a soft chocolate brown color. I knelt down and pinched his chubby cheeks, looking into his twinkling brown eyes.

Charlie was named after Charles Darwin, the guy who discovered evolution. Dad often called Charlie "Chuck" by accident. I didn't know why, but he often looked sad after saying the wrong name.

As for me, I was named after some smart person named Teresa Agnes. The thing was, I've never even heard of that person before. So it left me stumped as to why they named me Terry after her.

"Hey guys," I said. "What are you doing up so late? It's like 9 PM."

"Terry!" Charlie squealed, jumping into my arms. I lifted him up and gave him a hug. "Hey Charlie boy. Aren't you sleepy?" I murmured gently.

Isaac answered for him. "He's been super hyper ever since he got back home from school. Since you've been away doing illegal stuff, I'm the one who's been playing with him all day."

I grinned slightly sheepishly. "Sorry Izzy. And I was not doing illegal stuff. Why would you assume that?"

"Because you're you," Isaac replied. "And don't call me Izzy. I'm not a girl."

"Whatever you say, Izzy," I teased, making him groan. "But seriously, why aren't you guys asleep?"

"It's Friday, Terry!" Charlie yelped happily. My eyes widened. "Oh my gosh, it really is Friday! I totally forgot!"

Isaac chuckled. "This is a historic moment, people. The school-hating Terry O'Brien actually forgot it was Friday!"

"Shut up, Isaac," I said.

"Terry! Terry!" Charlie exclaimed. "Can you play with me too? We can play tag! Can we? Can we? Please?"

I sighed. "Charlie, you need to go to sleep, Friday or not. I'll go tuck you in."

Charlie pouted. "But I want Mommy and Daddy to tuck me in!"

"Okay, I'll go get Mom and Dad. Isaac, you can go to sleep now. Thanks for your work," I told him.

After a whole exhausting episode of getting Mom and Dad to try to get Charlie to go to sleep, I finally got my peace. Isaac's loud snores could be heard through the walls. I slowly drifted into the dark abyss of sleep.

I was standing in the middle of massive ruins. There were crumbled leftovers of buildings and flecks of dusty debris were flying around in the air. Suddenly, I heard the roar of a crowd all around me. Startled, I looked around, trying to see who the people in the crowd were.

But I couldn't see the details of each face. They were just colored blurs. Despite that, I could tell that something was wrong with them. Their figures were somehow…faded. Their voices were overlapping each other with such vigor that I couldn't tell what they were shouting.

I felt something weigh my hands down. I looked down. I saw an unconscious body resting in my arms. Just like the rest of the crowd, the face was blurred. All of a sudden, I could hear what the people were screaming.

"Kill him!" they shrieked. "Kill the ones that could've been us! Give us the lives we always wanted!"

"Take the lives of the people who got to live while we died! Kill the people who didn't try to help! Kill him!"

I watched in horror as my hands moved on the own. I tried to stop them from grabbing the person's neck, but I couldn't control them at all. It was like somebody else was manipulating my body like a puppet.

I wanted to scream when my hands gripped his neck in an iron clasp and started twisting. But my voice felt trapped and I just couldn't move at my own will. I heard bones snapping as I twisted his neck all the way around, 360 degrees. I felt sickened. I wanted to throw up. But I just couldn't.

I dropped his dead body. Cheers erupted from the crowd. Out of nowhere, a cliff appeared. I swiftly kicked his body off the cliff. For some horrible reason, I felt delight in seeing the terribly mutilated body fade away into the dark, shadows overlapping its path. I stared down the cliff. I wanted to scream and cry. Instead, I felt the tips of my mouth tilting up. Sickened to the bone, I tried to escape a pulling sensation leading me to the edge of the cliff. But after a few failed tries, my body moved on its on towards the cliff.

I struggled against it, but I couldn't win. I threw myself off the cliff. But as I hurled down, I saw a familiar, clear face. The face belonged to a man named Gally, my father's rival. He watched as I fell, air whistling past my ears. I suddenly found myself able to speak again. I managed to scream one word before everything went black. "NO!"

I woke up, palms sweating. Panting hard, I felt something hard against my back. I realized that I was on the floor. I stood up with shaking legs. That nightmare had been awful. I wanted to curl up in my bed and cry. But I didn't want to appear too weak to be able to fight off a nightmare, so I resisted the urge. I glanced at the clock. It read 7:00 AM. As my eyes grazed the view outside the window, it occurred to me that my window was open. I frowned. Weird. I don't remember opening it last night.

I crept downstairs, trying to pat down my messy hair. The doorbell rang. Surprisingly, Dad was up too. He sped down the hallway and opened the door before I could even reach for the knob. Shockingly, Minho was at the door. His face was hard and stony.

"I found him in his backyard. He's dead," Minho said in a low voice.

I saw my father's shoulders stiffen up. He shifted his weight to try to hide the view from me, but I peeked around his shoulders. I froze. In Minho's arms was a dead body. And that body belonged to Gally.