Beijing, China. December 30th, 2XXX.
The grand hotel was alive with laughter, clinking glasses, and the quiet hum of classical music playing beneath the noise of celebration. Businessmen and elegant women mingled in glittering gowns and sharp suits. Chandeliers sparkled like frozen fireworks above their heads.
But away from the glamour, behind tall velvet curtains and floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the snow-covered city, a small boy stood quietly, his breath fogging up the glass.
He was only five years old.
He wasn't interested in the party. It wasn't just a birthday party — it was his birthday party. But all the noise, all the unfamiliar faces, the flashing lights and fake smiles — none of it made sense to him. He just wanted to go home.
"Amma?" he asked in his small, innocent voice. "Where are you? I'm bored…"
A warm hand gently rested on his shoulder.
He turned, eyes lighting up.
"Amma! You're here!"
"Yes, Sky. I'm here, my sweet boy," she said, kneeling down to his level and brushing his black hair away from his face.
"I don't like this party… Can we go home now? Let Papa stay here. I want to go with you."
She smiled softly, stroking his cheek. "If we leave, Papa will be alone. He might get angry, hmm?"
Sky giggled. "Why are you so scared of Dad?"
Before she could answer, a deep voice echoed from behind them.
"There you two are. I've been looking for you."
Sky's eyes lit up again.
"Dad!" he cheered, running into his father's arms. His father, tall and dressed in a dark suit, lifted him effortlessly and held him close.
"My little lion," he said with a rare softness. "Getting bored?"
Sky pouted dramatically. "Yes…"
His mother smiled and whispered, "You stay with your father, I'll be back in a moment."
But that moment never came.
A sudden gunshot shattered the air.
Chaos exploded around them. Screams. Glass breaking. More gunshots. People ran in every direction, tripping, falling, hiding. Sky's father clutched him tightly and ran, shielding his small body with his own.
But in the panic, Sky slipped from his father's arms.
He hit the ground hard.
The world spun.
He tried to scream, but his voice was lost in the stampede of feet, the deafening fear all around him. All he could see were people falling… bleeding… dying.
He cried, calling out, "Amma! Dad!"
Another push from the crowd — his head hit the floor. Darkness swallowed everything.
---
When he woke up, it wasn't his bed.
The ceiling was unfamiliar, and the air smelled like medicine and old wood. His head lay gently in the lap of an old woman — the housemaid who had once worked in their home. She was crying quietly, stroking his hair.
"Little master… you're awake…"
Sky blinked slowly. "Where's… Mom… Dad…" he asked, his tiny voice broken and scared.
The woman began to sob harder.
He sat up and ran — ran to the room where his parents once stayed. Empty. Cold.
And then… he turned.
His father stood there.
Dressed all in black.
Eyes bloodshot. Hands stained with dirt.
"Dad… where's Mom?" Sky whispered.
His father looked at him, voice heavy and cold. "Your mother is dead, Sky. She was a liar. A traitor. From now on, do not speak her name."
Sky's tiny fists clenched. "No… you're lying! Amma wouldn't leave me! You're lying!!"
He backed away slowly, trembling… and in that moment, something inside him shattered.
---
Ten years later.
Sky's eyes opened sharply, chest rising and falling. His face was wet with tears.
The nightmare again.
The same one.
He sat up, breath caught in his throat, and turned toward the glowing digital calendar on his nightstand.
December 30th.
The day his childhood ended.
The day he lost his mother.
The day he truly met his father.
Without a word, he stood and walked to the bathroom. He needed a cold shower. He needed to forget.
But grief has a way of following you, even into the steam.
---
End of Chapter One.