[hr][hr]
[center][img]https://s21.postimg.org/8ve434fzb/e7daafd9556a0ce2e84eac5f80a0f21e.png[/img]
-Spring Town, Hedgemount-[/center]
[hr][hr]

Unlike most sleep deprived middle schoolers, Casey McCarthy was not a big fan of Saturdays. It wasn't because he loved school or anything (he didn't), but because of his rapidly decaying family, most of all his mother. Like most Saturday mornings, his mother lay passed out on the worn-out couch until late in the morning, dressed in only an old dressing gown and odd fishnet stockings. Her light blonde curls were in a tragic disarray,  the acrid odor of cheap alcohol still faintly wafting around the house. She'd be awake and irritable in a short time, so Casey steered clear of the living room. Moreover, he didn't even go downstairs at all. He had no desire to be shrieked at and possibly assaulted by the hungover wreck that was his mother on Saturday morning. 

He ran his hand through his tangled blonde locks, pacing around the small space he called his room. It was actually a repurposed closet, but he honestly didn't mind. It was big enough for his bed, one bookshelf (full of books he'd probably never even touched), a floor lamp and a few other oddities. That was all he really needed at this point in his life. It would have been nice to have a window, though. He wasn't afraid of the dark or anything, but it was a pain in the ass to have to fumble around blindly for the light switch every time he wanted to get his homework done or something. 

Casey quickly came to the nauseating realization  that he had absolutely nothing to do with himself today. It was relatively cold outside, which wasn't ideal for hanging around outside. But the more he thought about it,  the more he decided that it was best to get out of his mother's way as soon as possible. If he could just stay out until the afternoon, she'd probably be inebriated on some painkillers and once again safe to be around. 

He was already dressed in a red striped t-shirt and blue jeans, but hadn't been particularly motivated to comb his hair or anything else. He also hadn't eaten anything since he woke up about two hours ago, but he didn't want to risk waking his mother and there probably wasn't any food in the house anyway. He'd have to wait until later to see if he could convince his dad to go buy groceries, which probably meant that he wouldn't have anything to eat before dinner. Classic. 

But complaints aside, he'd made up his mind to go explore for a while until his mother was too high to be angry with him.

He whistled quietly to himself as he tugged on his blue jacket and dusty red and black sneakers, walking out the back door and retrieving his rusty blue bike from the empty driveway. His parents couldn't afford to own a car, so the only things kept on the small stretch of asphalt were his bike, some assorted tools and a dead squirrel. He climbed onto his bike and rode off down the street, no particular destination in mind. Wherever he wound up, Casey was sure he'd be able to get back. He knew Baybridge like the back of his hand, so to speak. 

Though he'd owned the bike since his 9th birthday 3 years ago, Casey had never been in the habit of wearing a helmet. They were more expensive than they were worth, he always thought. Besides, he didn't fall all that much. At least, not hard enough to sustain a serious injury. As he pedaled down the old, cracked street, he noticed that a flock of small black birds had gathered along the power lines, watching him go by in silence. Casey was at a point now where he no longer considered that weird. His ability manifested almost a year ago, maybe even more. He wasn't sure of the exact date, but it wasn't that important. Right now, he just had to decide on where to go. Preferably somewhere good and far away, since he hoped to be gone from his neighborhood for at least four or five hours. Maybe he'd think of something once he was out of the hive of scum and villainy that was Spring Town.