His shoes were never dirty. His haggard mother was a compass, and viewed it as her responsibility to ensure he never strayed. She spent hours disinfecting his already clean white Vans so they attainted the high level of perfection she pursued. Her cunning eyes trailed his desperate ones as she scrubbed. But, her tricks to con him were in vain. Despite, her constant attempts to seem discrete, he could spot her gray strands behind him through the reflection on his laptop screen. She was watching his every move- every tab opened, every email clicked on, every letter typed. But then again, when was she not?
The plan she had spent years crafting and perfecting, a plan that could never fail. She never did fail. He was darkness. A darkness so bleak and so tainted it could never find its own way. A darkness that had no escape but a false, wavering light.