The Teenager Who Came Back

Remir glanced in the car mirror and saw his son, Nox, in the reflection. Nox, his beloved child, was sitting with headphones on, his forehead pressed against the car window, his fingers gripping his guitar bag. It was as if it were the only thing holding him together.

Remir sighed and focused his attention on the road.

“Another hour and we’ll be in our new home,” he replied calmly.

Behind him, he heard the rustle of a seat and Nox taking off his headphones.

“Okay…”

“Nox, you know we had to move.” Remir kept his voice calm, even though he knew his son was still taking his words like a knife.

“NO! YOU HAD TO! I DIDN’T ASK FOR THIS!”

Tears welled up in the boy’s eyes. Without waiting for his father’s response, he put his headphones back on and his right hand nervously began tapping against his metal leg. A bitter reminder that he was no longer an ordinary seventeen-year-old boy.

Remir sighed as he remembered that night. Even though half a year had passed, the memory of that phone call gripped his throat. The news of his son’s murder.

The pain prevented him from coming to terms, so he did something he shouldn’t have. He brought Nox back to life. His damaged organs were augmented with mechanisms. His heart was mechanically reinforced, and he replaced his missing limbs with metal prosthetics. Within a few hours of his constant work, his son’s body was whole again. And light returned to Nox’s eyes. A sign of life.

Despite this, Remir knew Nox wasn’t the same boy he knew.

He had become a hybrid of man and machine.

And that was what hurt the boy the most. Because he had always been different. A typical outsider. A lover of rock music. Someone who could talk about bands and playing guitar for hours. His clothing style didn’t help either. Loose, dark clothes, often inspired by bands. He wore a silver nose ring, and his black hair was styled in a sharp wolf-cut that contrasted with his pale complexion. His brown-amber eyes peeked out from under his hair.

Remir glanced again at Nox, who was quietly humming one of his favorite songs. There was something else that made Nox angry about the move. The boy had been like this for as long as Remir could remember. Even before his death, even before his body was transformed by metal. His autism had always made him perceive the world differently. Making new friends was difficult for him, and change was overwhelming. The boy loved repetitive rituals, music, and familiar places. And Remir knew that moving was taking all of that away from him.

It gripped his heart, though he knew there was no other way. In the old city, there would be too many questions about how Nox was living. But the worst part was that the killer was still on the loose, and there was still a chance that if they had stayed in the city, Nox would still be a target.

“So, Nox, are you curious about your new room?”

“Mhm.” The boy just shrugged, not even taking off his headphones.

That was the only sound Nox made. And Remir knew he wouldn’t get anything more out of him for now.

“Oh Clara…If only you were here with us. Maybe if you could see him for what our little boy is now. He would understand that he’s not a monster and that he’s still just an ordinary boy, despite all of this.”

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