Aiden could feel the warm air rush into his lungs, the intensity cutting deep into his soul. Around him, the red concrete building stood like a relic of forgotten dreams. Children played on a rusted, barely functional playground. A group of men shot hoops on a cracked basketball court, while others stood on the sidelines, waiting for their turn.
Near the building's entrance, dealers lounged like sentries—guns flashing from their waistbands, gold chains glinting in the sun, hawking product and posing for social media clout. Women sat in folding chairs doing each other's hair, gossiping about their men—how they weren't shit and never would be.
A little kid sold water bottles to sweaty passersby, and an old man grilled hot dogs on a street corner cart. It was a perfect day, filled with noise and life.
But as Aiden stood there, everything began to rot.
The sky darkened, rain pelted the ground like needles, and the warm, vibrant air turned cold and brittle. The joyful sounds vanished. The people turned to look at him, their gazes hollow, filled with jealousy and something worse—hatred. It was as if he had taken something from them.
They began to scream. Not words—just pain. Their cries pierced the heavens. Aiden covered his ears, but it didn't help. The sound cut through flesh and bone. He fell to the ground, shaking.
Then, silence.
He looked up.
They were still staring at him, but now their eyes glowed gold with fury.
"WHERE IS MY MONEY, AIDEN?" they chanted in unison, voices low and demonic.
Panic surged through him. He bolted, feet pounding against wet concrete, weaving through the towering red-brick buildings as fire erupted behind him.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
Buildings exploded one after another, throwing bricks like shrapnel. Aiden ducked and dodged, but debris struck him. Blood blurred his vision.
White powder—cocaine from the stash houses—erupted into the air, coating the streets like toxic snow. It filled his lungs, choking him. He coughed, gasped for air.
Still, the voices followed.
"WHERE IS MY MONEY, AIDEN?!"
His heart thundered in his chest, a wild stallion trying to escape its cage. Then, he slipped.
He hit the ground hard, snow seeping into his clothes. But this wasn't the burning neighborhood anymore. He was sitting on the edge of a frozen lake.
Two figures stood before him—a man and a woman. No faces, just hoodies, jeans, and black boots. They didn't speak, but their presence screamed louder than words.
"Where's my money…" the man said—or maybe it echoed in Aiden's mind.
The man raised a gun.
Boom—headshot.
Boom. Boom—two in the chest.
Aiden felt the searing burn as the bullets tore through him, shattering ribs, piercing flesh, and finally, exploding through his skull. Time slowed as his body was flung backward.
But instead of hitting the ground, he fell into icy blackness.
He crashed against a hard metal floor.
Now he was trapped inside a giant vault. Safety deposit boxes covered the walls like silent witnesses. In front of him, a towering black door loomed with a massive spinning lock.
Aiden tried to scream, but no sound came out. His throat refused to work. It was like his voice had been ripped away.
The vault door began to close. One lock.
Another.
And another.
Each one slamming shut like a nail in a coffin. Then—
Darkness.
Aiden gasped awake.
His vision swam as he found himself pinned—his right arm twisted behind his back, a forearm locked around his throat.
He struggled. The grip loosened.
Steve.
Aiden blinked, then released his hold and stumbled back.
"Sorry," he muttered, breathing hard. "I forgot I wasn't in the Chi."
Steve stepped back, rubbing his throat, startled. "Damn, boy. You didn't hear me banging on your door? You were out cold."
Aiden shook his head. "It's nothing. Just a dream."
Steve didn't push. "Get ready for school. I'm dropping you off."
He stepped out, pausing in the doorway. Made breakfast. You've got thirty minutes."
The door shut with a click.
Aiden stared at it, puzzled. That man was supposed to be his father. But he didn't feel like one.
He turned away, dug into his suitcase, pulled out clean clothes, and headed to the bathroom, trying to push the nightmare away, but feeling it settle deep in his bones.