𝗟𝗼𝘀𝘁 𝗢𝗻 𝗬𝗼𝘂 | 𝗄𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗌 𝗆𝗂𝗄𝖺𝖾𝗅𝗌𝗈𝗇

two, shape shifted

two, shape shifted.
act ii, season two

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The clink and clatter of silverware fills the strangely hollow, lonely house. Across a small table in the dimly lit
kitchen, Mr. Lahey and his son, Isaac, quietly eat dinner.

"So far it’s an A in French and a B minus in Econ." Isaac says, not looking up at his dad.

"What about Chemistry?" Mr. Lahey asks.

"Not sure yet. Mid-terms are in a few days so it could go up."

"What’s it at now?" Mr.Lahey asks again.

"The grade?" Isaac asks, "I don’t know." the young boy shrugged his shoulders.

"You just said it could go up."

"Prick." Avery comments, glaring at the old man ln screen.

"I meant like... generally." Isaac answers slowly.

Mr.Lahey peers over his wire-rimmed glasses at Isaac, "You’re not lying to me, are you?"

"No." Isaac shakes his head.

"Then what’s the grade?" Mr. Lahey asks, this time in a more demanding tone.

"I just told you I don’t know." Isaac notices the knife twisting around and around in his father’s hand.

"You want to take this conversation
downstairs?" Isaac shakes his head at his fathers question, "What’s the grade?"

"The semester’s only half over."

"Isaac?" Mr. Lahey interrupts him.

"There’s plenty of time--"

"Isaac." Mr. Lahey says in an warning tone.

"It’s a D." Mr. Lahey stops twisting the knife. Then, to Isaac’s surprise, he
gently sets it down.

"All right, I’m not angry. But you know I have to punish you. I have my responsibility as a parent. So how about we start with something simple. You do the dishes and clean the kitchen. Okay?"

Isaac gives a wary nod, unsure about getting off so easy. "Good. Because I want to see this place spotless." With a strange calm, Lahey picks up his glass and hurls it to the floor, shattering it over the linoleum. "This entire kitchen."

He swipes a plate off the table. Isaac flinches as it smashes into pieces against the cabinets. "Absolutely..." Another glass flies past Isaac and explodes against the
refrigerator. "..Spotless."

Cowering, Isaac raises his head to reveal blood dripping down the side of his cheek. With a shaky hand, he carefully
extracts a shard of glass from just below his eye. "That’s your fault. Not mine."

"Piece of shit!" Avery throws her popcorn at the screen, hoping she could kick that mans ass.

Isaac gazes at the shard between his bloody fingertips. Breathing hard, he turns an angry gaze on his father. "You could’ve blinded me." Isaac says.

Isaac sighs and closes his eyes, not wanting to see this things again. He was glad he has Avery now.

"Shut up. It’s a scratch. It’s barely..." Mr. Lahey trails off, staring at Isaac.Watching the drip of blood on the boy’s cheek literally reverse its flow. As if being sucked back into the open cut. Isaac brings his hand to his face, seeming to sense what’s happening. In mere seconds, the broken skin on his cheek
reseals, leaving only the vaguest traces of blood.