Looking back to the whole situation, eyes wide in shock, Fritz couldn't believe what he just witnessed. He tried to process it all, but he couldn't. He could just, watch, in utter disbelief. "You're good Fritz, you're alive". He finally convinced himself to look away after the authorities dispersed and left only police tape twisting in the wind and rain remaining. Fritz looked at his phone, "5:06, Dad's gonna kill me." He made his way to the apartment him and his dad rented out for as long as Fritz could remember. It wasn't in the uppity section of town, some might even call it the "bad part", but it was all his dad could afford. Being an electrician doesn't pay much. Turning down his street the wind began to pick up and drove the rain harder against his face. But it didn't bother him, even though he hated water, he was just numb to his surroundings. Walking up the concrete steps, he stomped his boots on the doormat, it hit him,
He just witnessed someone die.
He stood in the pouring rain for a moment, trying to collect himself before he faced his father. Opening the door, Fritz's father, Breyer, stood there looking down on him.
"It's 5:30. Where were you?", Breyer asked. "I... I was in the park.", Fritz responded nervously. "I hope he hasn't seen the news yet."
"I made dinner, you're favorite, beef barley soup. It's probably cold by now though.", Breyer said easing his gaze. "I'm not really hungry...", mumbled Fritz. "Are you sure about that?", questioned Breyer. "Um, yeah...", said Fritz. He swallowed nervously, hoping Breyer wouldn't notice how nervous he was. "Son, what's wrong?", Breyer further questioned, blocking the stairwell. "Nothing, dad.", Fritz protested, getting visibly ticked off. "You can talk to me, what's wrong?", Breyer asked, walking closer to Fritz. "Nothing, dad! Nothing is wrong!", Fritz yelled. He ducked under his father's arm, but before he could make a getaway to the sanctuary of his room Breyer grabbed the back of his shirt. With a sudden flash of intense heat, the handrail he was holding on to burnt to a crisp, barely missing his father. Breyer glanced at the charred handrail, then listened to the smoke alarms beeping and the family dog, Nash, barking at all the commotion. "Go to your room...", Breyer sighed, slowly turning away to clean up his son's mess. An emotional trainwreck, Fritz walked up to his room, locked the door, and sat down on his bed. Today had been awful and he just wanted it to be over. He pulled out his phone to see no notifications, as usual. He tried to look up articles from what happened at the park... "No connection? Dad must've turned off the WiFi..." Giving up facing the pain of the day, Fritz laid down to close his eyes and felt sleep's silent bliss creeping closer.
