Chapter Text
Janus arrived home from school. Even though it was his 13th birthday he still had to attend. Ah, the unlucky number 13. The number lots of people fear, but Janus knows that it’s just a superstition. Nothing bad would happen to him right?
Right?
He opened the door to see his father passed out on the couch, drunk. What a shock Janus thought to himself. He went upstairs to do his homework.
He knew that other kids would get thrown big parties, or receive lots of gifts on their birthday, especially 13th. It was a big number! You officially become a teen! You should be able to celebrate! But again, that’s with other kids. Janus was different, not just how he looks (although that’s a huge part of it). He was a bad kid, his father told him so hundreds if not thousands of times. He wasn’t even supposed to be born, and he was born wrong. Janus was wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong.
So wrong he drove his mother away, the day he was born.
He heard a sharp knocking at the door. He flinched but then opened it up to see his father staring at him, “You’re 13 now huh kid?” His father snarled.
“I don’t know, am I?” Janus replied, sarcasm clearly in his voice.
“Shut the fuck up kid and answer the question!”
How can I answer if you just told me to shut up? Janus thought. He looked at him in the face, “Yes father I am.”
“So,” His father started, “13 years since you ruined my life and drove my love away.”
“Yes father, that is correct.”
“HOW!” His father screamed, “HOW HAVE YOU BEEN AROUND FOR 13 YEARS?” Janus healed back a flinch. Even though he should be used to it, he couldn’t help but not be nervous when his father screamed, or just loud noises in general.
He swallowed the lump in his throat and answered, “I do not know father, I guess the inevitability of death hasn’t reached me yet.”
Ok now he was terrified. His father smiled after that sentence, “Oh. I guess so then.” He then slammed the door behind him as he left. Janus, once again, flinched at the loud noise. But there was nothing he could really do, it’s not like Janus had any friends to talk too. So he simply turned back to continue doing his homework, read up on some books, and headed to bed.
A fact about Janus, he is always cold. Whether it was just his hands or his entire body he was cold. It really was a *fun* time having his birthday in February. So how did he combat this? He dealt with it. Yeah, his father didn’t care about him being cold, always yelling at him for complaining. “LIVE IN ANTARCTICA WITH NO CLOTHES ON AND THEN COMPLAIN ABOUT BEING COLD!” So when he felt a warmth surrounding him while sleeping, even in his sleep he was happy.
But things never stay happy for Janus Zeno.
Because after a few minutes the warmth started to get unbearable. He felt hot, burning. It didn’t help that he smelled smoke. Janus woke up and his room as a bright orange, smoke all over the place, and his face practically melting. He screamed as loud as he could, hoping that maybe his father would hear! His room was on fire! He was on fire!
‘HELLLLLLLLP!!!!!!!!!!”
Some of the smoke from the room entered in his lungs, he started coughing. He got out of his bed and tried to get out the window. Janus pushed up the window to come to realize it was locked. He punched the window so hard that the curtain hanger above fell off (stupid old house) and fell across his face. Causing Janus to scream more. He looked out the window to see the police, firefighters, and ambulance lights rushing down the street. He yelled another, “HELP!” before remembering his father’s words.
~His father smiled after that sentence, “Oh. I guess so then.”~
His father must have started the fire, he wanted Janus dead. Janus dropped on the ground sobbing, what did I do wrong? Barley hearing the firefighters barge through the door. The last thing he saw was a firefighter in the room, saying something about a kid in the room. He coughed once last time before closing his eyes.