“Are you awake?” Josh asked quietly.

Connor was just out of his line of sight, sleeping on the floor on a jigsaw puzzle of foam camping mats and spare pillows. He had been too tall for the meager full size bed and insisted that Josh take it. Something told Josh that Connor’s ability to sleep on demand in an environment that uncomfortable came from experience, but he wasn’t quite sure what kind of experience and if it was a tragic painful tale or the tale of a guy that outgrew his living space faster than his parents could afford to furnish a new one.

“I’ve been up for nearly two hours now.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I got my eight hours in and my body decided that was it.”

“And you just stayed there?”

“It’s not that bad actually. The lumps are actually kind of ergonomic when you curl around them.”

Josh let out a quiet and mildly frustrated sigh as he picked up on Connor’s facetious tone. “Connor, why are you like this?”

“That’s a good question. I think it might have something to do with my diet.”

“Ugh…” Josh groaned and rolled over to check the alarm clock that had been on the nightstand next to his bed since he was thirteen. “It’s too early for that. You can be snarky after breakfast.”

“Nice to know you’re in a good mood.” Connor acted mildly offended, but in truth he was relieved. Josh seemed more open and communicative than he had been the night before. Regardless of the reason, Connor took it as a personal success.

Without much fanfare, Josh directed Connor to the guest bathroom—which was miraculously available, though it was earlier than Josh’s family usually woke up—and changed clothes in the bedroom while Connor occupied the bathroom. Josh was dressed before Connor was out, and waited idly in the hallway. The only light illuminating the space was the golden early morning sunlight that pushed through the curtains and blinds of the exterior various windows, Josh didn’t dare turn on any of the actual lights in the house for fear it would be grounds for a sibling or parent to exit their space and proclaim that the light had rudely woken them up from a peaceful sleep and good dreams. Hearing the shower running or the loud ventilation fan that turned on with the bathroom light was already a potential aggravator this early in the morning. But there was no getting around it, and it was really best if they both took care of their business in the bathroom before anyone else woke up. Josh didn’t plan on actually showering, as that risked someone bursting in the bathroom while he had his bandages off, but there was no getting around pretty much every other part of his morning routine.

Josh executed his normal routine, minus showering, as fast as he could. But something he’d seen before actually getting into the bathroom was stuck in his head and distracting him from what he was trying to do. Connor was now donning a basic tee shirt and jeans outfit, with his mark plainly visible on his arm. It didn’t seem likely at all, considering Josh hadn’t been able to see marks until he’d witnessed one being passed on, but the thought of one of his family members being able to see it terrified him. It was a fear rooted in a selfish desire to be unique in his family, which Josh had never felt before, and a fear that acknowledging a mark could drag a member of his family into an incredibly perilous world that might get them killed; or worse.

Despite the strange nature of his dream, Josh didn’t dare peak at his own arm. He knew he would need to change the bandage soon, just to keep it clean, but the combination of the thoughts what if someone sees my injury and figures out really happened and what if there’s another false mark there that I’m not prepared to deal with was powerful enough to undermine his desire to recover quickly and safely. On an intellectual level, Josh knew both of those paranoid outcomes were unlikely—the former more unlikely than the latter—but there was no escaping those unreasonable fears. Even with the odd sense of peace still present in his heart, the fear that proximity to his family created was stifling.

The thought of his dream reminded him that Connor had also said he had dreams. Nothing quite on par with Josh, and certainly not any that brought him into contact with beings beyond comprehension. But perhaps there was some kind of link between Connor’s presence and Josh’s ability to dream that way without being overcome by the other entities influence. It was something that Josh eagerly wanted to ask his friend, but as soon as the two of them settled at the kitchen table to sort of breakfast, Chelsea emerged from her room and perched on a nearby chair and waited intently for something to interrupt.

Not finding any, Josh’s sister made her own abrupt entry into the conversation.

“So, Connor, since there’s so much stuff you can’t eat, what are you going to have for breakfast? Maybe I could order you something from a restaurant?”

Josh knew the offer was entirely disingenuous, and equally improbable; there wasn’t a single restaurant in the vicinity that delivered breakfast food. Even the third party food delivery services wouldn’t be up and running yet.

“Or do you usually wait a bit to eat? Six thirty AM sure is early, probably too early for your body to be awake enough to eat anything.” Neither Josh nor Connor had taken the first bit of bait, so Chelsea had skipped a few steps and gone straight to complaining about how early it was for her and them to be up.

“Actually, it’s a bit late for me. I’m usually up at five, I have an early class every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday semester.”

Connor couldn’t help but say something in response. Even if he was trying not to take any of the conversational bait being offered, saying anything was enough to get Chelsea started. Anything is an invitation if you are eager to complain, after all.

“Goodness,” Chelsea enunciated the exclamation like she was a southern belle. “How early is your class if you have to get up at five.”

“Six.” Connor gave the most basic reply he could, before realizing that it was an even more open ended invitation and adding on, “Which is pretty standard. Most classes are on an hour or hour and a half rotation, especially lectures. There’s actually a two hour lecture class that goes along with one of my chemistry labs I have next semester and I’m not looking forward to it. Lab work is bad enough, but listening to someone talk about lab work and procedures is already tedious in small doses.”

Chelsea, ever the opportunist, took a crack at Connor’s train of thought with a, “Holy cow, talk about two hour lectures…” But she was ignored.

Josh had picked up the loose end of the conversation that had been interrupted and put it back on track. “Is that one of the four hundred level labs? I think I’ve heard about it. Everyone is always complaining about the cadaver lab unit.”

“Yeah. Chemistry in the human body. You have to take a sample from some recently removed stomach tissue and determine the concentration of specific chemical that the professor changes every semester. The analysis part I get, but I don’t understand why they make us take the sample ourselves.”

“Maybe the levels vary too much if it’s been sitting around in a lab?” Josh offered.

“I envisioned it as more of a methods test,—since each sample could have a lot of differences—and less of an active figure out the correct numerical value sort of assessment, but maybe.”

“You two are disgusting.” Chelsea growled.

Josh took a moment to relish in the small victory of making his sister uncomfortable. “That’s just the kind of thing you learn about in college.”

And that small victory was enough. Chelsea retreated to her own corner of the house, no doubt to wipe away the grime of sleep. But Connor and Josh stayed at the kitchen table. They talked through a light breakfast—Connor had brought fruit leather and paired it with a poached egg, Josh ate toast—and they talked through everyone else’ breakfast too. Even when the rest of Josh’s family arrived for the barbecue around lunch—his older brother Kyle, who had been the first sibling to move out; and his younger sister Danielle, who had been staying at a friends house over the weekend—Josh stayed put. The kitchen table was the most neutral ground in the entire house until dinner time, when it became the most hostile area in the house. No one lingered there for very long, and no one really talked much while they were there. It was a place for eating and not much else.

It wasn’t until the neighbors began to gather, and people began to socialize in the back yard, that Josh dared escape the confines of the kitchen. And Connor, without much else to do or anywhere to go, followed.

Josh’s dad had begun grilling not long after noon, and it had been the smell that had brought people to the backyard. Neighbors and their kids and a family dog or two. Once the smell and promise of food had drawn them in, there were plenty of other things to distract them. Josh’s family had a large back yard. Large enough to fit an decent sized above ground pool, a flower garden, an herb garden, a compost pit (far off and away from the house), a volleyball net, and a reasonably sized patio with multiple tables and sets of chairs. It wasn’t huge, some of the things were smushed together a little, but there was enough space for what looked like thirty people. Or, rather, there were about thirty people gathered in the back yard, including Josh and Connor.

It was a strangely ordinary sight and it stood in stark contrast with the casual venom that had been passed around through conversation at dinner the night before. Events like this were the few and far between times that Josh ever felt like his family was normal. But now, Josh also saw it far what it was. A good face to mask the reality that lingered just beneath the surface. His entire family was acting. Even his own father, placid and clever as he normally was, was uncharacteristically boisterous at the grill as he made easy small talk and let himself be the center of that conversation. Josh’s mother, who was only directly visible through the open kitchen window as she prepared food inside the house, smiled and watched passively as the people in her care made their mistakes and had their own lives separate from hers. Chelsea was charming and acting as an intermediary with her family and their guests. Kyle, who was normally eager to challenge anyone to anything, regaled anyone that would listen with interesting stories of his work rather than provocations that would anger someone into confronting him. Danielle, who Josh had spent the least time around among his siblings, was the only one that seemed to be honest and normal in her behavior. She was only sixteen, after all, and hadn’t yet codified her own unique brand of misery. But there was something forlorn about her that made Josh focus on his youngest sibling among the crowd of people.

A sad truth that holds firm for any group wherein there is at least one toxic personality, is that there will always be an easiest target that receives most of the abuse from that toxic person. They are the path of least resistance through which the toxicity flows from the heart of the vile personality into a place where it can be separated from its originator. But as the members of a group shifts, or as the toxic person leaves and joins other groups, the easy target can shift just as easily. Some people are defined in society by their meekness in receiving punishment, and no matter where they go or how many toxic people are in the group that they cling to—or that clings to them—they will always have that role among those people. Such was the fate of Josh and his family for the majority of his upbringing.

As soon as Josh could be the butt of a joke, he had been, and he had been the butt of nearly every joke and jab in the family until he had left for college. Lesser men—or, perhaps, other men—might have been driven to extremes by the torment. But Josh had held fast to the idea that one day he would be around better people, and perhaps his family would see him happy and treat him better. Secretly, he had hoped that perhaps his family would grow sorrowful in his absence and jealous of the people he could choose to spend time with instead of his family. Perhaps, one day, they would treat him the way they all seemed to treat each other. And, among all these secret hopes and life preserving psychological strategies, Josh had never once considered what would happen in the wake of his departure. Who would become the new path of least resistance?

Chelsea was old enough to fend for herself, but chose to live her family as a means of saving money. Kyle was already free to come and go as he pleased, and only visited when it suited him. His mother and father were, by all accounts, stuck happily together in what felt more and more like a toxic marriage. His younger brother, Charlie, had escaped as well and made his way across the country to art school where he partied to his heart’s content. Danielle had no means of escape and no innate sense to defend herself. She hadn’t been the butt of every joke, because Josh had been there to take those attacks, but now she may well have become the designated victim of the family.

“Who are you staring at?” Connor had asked after a long moment of silence at the patio table they’d taken up residence at.

“My sister, Danielle.” Josh muttered quietly enough that only Connor could hear him. “I’m worried about her.”

A frown and contemplation played across Connor’s face as he also narrowed his eyes at the girl. “Do you want me to do anything? I mean, I know it’s none of my business and I really don’t want to get involved… but I’m younger than you and I guess I could maybe relate to her more?”

“Nah. You probably don’t want to get involved. If what I think is going on actually is, then there’s not much we can really do.”

It was at about that moment that Danielle caught Connor looking at her and made her way over to the patio table where they were sitting.

“Hi Joshy!” She said cheerfully. The greeting reminded Josh of when she’d been a toddler and his was the first name among their siblings she’d been able to really say. “I know you’ve got a friend with you, but you should really start making conversation with other people before it gets too late and no one wants to talk to you.”

“I mostly just came here for the food, Danni. You know that, right?”

“Then why’d you bring your friend?”

“He didn’t really have anything else to do so—oh, wait. You haven’t actually met him yet.” Josh chuckled to himself as he realized that she had been the first member of their family that hadn’t immediately implied that he and Connor were dating. “This is my roommate, Connor. Connor, this is my little sister Danielle. She’s the youngest out of all of us.”

There was a moment of silence as Danielle sized Connor up. Almost literally sized him up, she was nearly half his height. And Josh thought he saw a hint of speculation cross her expression, but what alarmed him more was the lingering look that she was giving Connor’s arms. Namely, his left arm.