The slow and steady footsteps of Samuel were not of the unordinary, though it wasn't because of anything particular, but instead just the normal dogging feeling of simple emptiness. Deep down he knew everyone had it and that it wasn't anything worrying like depression or anxiety. Samuel had good money, good looks and good friends so whatever he was missing would be a real pain to discover. Almost as painful as the one extra long curl that couldn't sit upon his head and just had to dangle over his light brown skin and wave at his midnight eyes like a mocking child waving at a chained up dog from the other side of a gate. If that wasn't bad enough, during his English class at his school, some double D- dunce had spilt some home cooked pasta on his pristine blue blazer. Not that he'd really need it anymore. That was his last day.
As Sam cleared route and made his way onto his road, he saw a sight so horrifying, it made him almost want to turn around... his dad, Oliver P Pilot, AKA the most pathetic father on the bougiest street in Kentish Town, Kelly Street. He was just sitting there on the floor like a homeless man outside the house gates. Samuel knew his time was on the clock before his father noticed him, so wasted not a second as he turned heel and prepared to run all the way to the closest train station to escape from the deadliest threat he'd ever faced!
"Samuel, welcome home my beloved son!" Oliver Pilot yelled while sprinting full speed towards Sam, "Looks like you have a messy blazer, so you should use your metal keychain to lockpick the backdoor and sneak inside to change. So sneaky, yeah." His voice sounded at the age it should, but felt so immature, like a businessman taking just a tiny whiff of helium.
"I could also just use the magical wand called a house key and open the door?" Samuel trying to speak rationally, though explaining how keys worked is probably a stretch.
"Oh Sam, you have to understand, our keys won't work against this foe. Our greatest obstacle. Your mother!" Oliver's face changing to that of some tragic heroes expression.
[Oh yeah, mum changed the locks to the house to stop dad getting in]<- Thought bubbles, so cool
Samuel sighed and just walked towards the house, his dad chasing behind like an anime character, flailing their arms and trying to explain the lock change situation. Samuel took the key from his pocket and... klink, the key turned and the door opened, allowing Samuel to leave the conversation in silence. [Good God, why did he have to be my dad?] Samuel's thoughts bogging down the generally decent day he was having. Turns out, Sam already knew about the lock change as his mother had told him and given him a new key.
From downstairs, an argument could be heard as the two bickered about the door. Samuel's mum, Diana Pilot had the sinister voice of a condescending demon while his dad had the opposite. It sounded like dad trying to stick up to Diana with a shaky voice, but inevitably being bullied into submission by his fed up wife.
Sam had powers, sure, but in honesty they weren't what carried him through life, as likely it was his incredible ability to pick up on patterns. For example, when he looks at a book from a library or second hand shop, he quite easily picks up on what kind of person used it before, based on folds, creases, tears, smell and even colour difference. He could also tell that the footsteps heading up to his room were his mothers, since they were slow, deliberate and eerily heavy. Knowing this, he didn't bother putting a shirt on and getting decent, since unlike his dad, Diana Pilot would open the door only slightly to talk.
"Dinner's ready, Sammy. Also, it's your favourite!" Her voice chirpy as a baby chick. Her voice was so nice when talking to people she liked. Sitting down at the table, Sam's heart fluttered and a smile spread across his mouth as before him stood the greatest food of all time, spaghetti Bolognese. It's thick meaty texture, spreading it's flavour across the long soft noodles, enveloping them beneath it's powerful mass. The smell could bring anybody to their knees, as the tiny cherry tomatoes sit boldly atop the entire dish. Sam eats the magical concoction in silence, the taste drowning out the loud mouthed parents yelling at each other in front of him.
"Hey! Hey! Hey~! Heyeyey!" Oliver doing his best to catch attention.
"Do you like the meal little Sammy?" Diana asks Sam, who nods, spaghetti hanging from his mouth.
"Are we just gonna ignore that you served me a raw pufferfish and plastic bottle for dinner?!"
"Oh but honey, I thought you liked seafood?" her sinister chuckle bringing terror to all.
"B-b-b-b-but it's not edible! Pufferfish are poison-"
DOOM
Diana Pilot turned her head, eyes aflame, as she uses her special attack, Sleep on the Coach Eyes, directly at Oliver, who drops to the floor unconscious and in shock. It's super effective.
Samuel looks at the dysfunctional mess he calls his family and sighs, placing his plate in the sink as he heads upstairs, hopefully able to avoid any choosing sides stuff, though the choice wouldn't be hard by any means. Despite all of this, excitement still bubbled a little inside of him, knowing tomorrow was so close. An opportunity to finally do something he wanted to do instead of what he had to do. What was tomorrow? Well-
Samuel Pilot:
Age: 16 I Height: 6'1ft I Power: ??? I Birthday: December 5th I Likes: Spagbowl, reading, fine clothes
Oliver Pilot:
Age: 39 I Height: 5'9ft I Birthday: January 5th I Likes: Being loved, squirrels, heavy metal, wife & son
Diana Pilot:
Age: 41 I Height: 6'2ft I Birthday: September 12th I Likes: Snakes, visiting the dentist, making aprons