It was a nice day. One of those days that makes you feel like you don't have a care in the world. A few white clouds floated lazily through the blue sky, the ocean sloshed about lazily, a few sea birds were slipping quietly through the air on the light winds that brushed over the beach. It was a nice day, but Jason didn't really care. Jason was staring out at the ocean, a small round rock held comfortably in his right hand. He reached up and stroked his cheek lightly, knowing that the cut was no longer there, even though he could still feel it. It had been a small cut, nothing too deep. Nothing a quick Cure spell couldn't heal.

He and Troy had been fighting again today.

He and Troy had fought every day for as long as Jason could remember.

He leaned back and threw the stone at the water. It skipped a few times before finally landing with a 'splush' into the blue liquid. Jason sighed and rubbed his cheek again. The cut was gone, but his Cure spell couldn't heal the physical pain it left. Or the emotional. Jason shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and cursed Troy under his breath as he kicked a few more rocks about in the sand, looking for another flat one to throw.

He and Troy were always fighting. Any time Jason was at home, any time Troy was there too, those two would be fighting. That's why Jason never stayed at home much. He was always at Chad's house, or at the park, or at the school, or at the beach. When he did go home, it was for a quick trips. To change out of his school uniform. To drop off his backpack. To go to sleep. Most of these times Troy wasn't around. Or maybe he wasn't concious. Or maybe he was just in another room. Jason didn't know, nor did he care. All he cared was that Troy wasn't around him at the time. Jason picked up another stone and threw it at the water. It only skipped twice before it went under. With a sigh, Jason stuffed his hands back into his pockets and headed down the beach.

He didn't like Troy and Troy knew it. Troy didn't like Jason, and he knew it. He didn't know why his mom had married the man, or why she was still married to him now. Troy was nothing but a waste to the family. He worked at a mill located in a small town just west of Windia. Whatever money Troy made, he usually spent on his alcohol when he came home. Jason's mom didn't work. She wasn't at home much either. She was usually out at one of her girlfriend's homes. Jason didn't blame her. She probably didn't want to be around Troy either. Troy was a pain when he was drunk. Sometimes he was worse when he was sober, but Jason really wasn't sure. He never saw him sober much.

Jason kicked at a rock in the sand again, then glanced back out at the ocean. He liked the ocean. He felt that if he could just get beyond the water, then he'd be away from all of it. From his family, from his problems, he'd be free. Not like that would happen anytime soon. Jason picked up another rock and threw it into the water. He didn't bother trying to skip that one, he just wanted something to throw.

Even if he could leave, it's not like he would leave. He wouldn't want to leave his mom behind. He wouldn't want to have to leave her with Troy. Even if his mom wasn't that great. Even if she never tried to stand up to Troy. Even if she was never at home. Jason still didn't want to leave her behind. His mom wasn't too bad. She was supportive. She tried to help Jason feel better, even when she was feeling horrible herself. She did her best to keep her family fed, even if they never had much money. They never did. Troy always spent it all on his alcohol.

Jason continued walking down the beach again. Troy was a pain. Troy was abusive. Troy was always drunk. He was a leech to the family. Jason wondered how they ever put up with him. He couldn't remember a time when Troy had ever been nice.

Troy had always called Jason 'boy.' For as long as he could remember, he had never once heard the man speak his name. He often wondered if Troy even knew his name.

Jason had always called him Troy. For as long as he could remember, he had never once called the man 'dad.' He often wondered if he even had a father.

Jason reached up and rubbed his cheek again. He couldn't remember what Troy had hit him with. He couldn't remember why Troy had hit him. He just had. He always was. Jason never hit back. He couldn't. Troy would only hit harder if Jason fought back. Jason never told anyone. He couldn't. He didn't know what Troy would do if he ever found out Jason had told someone.

Troy had taught Jason how to fight. Troy had made Jason the fighter that he was. Whenever Jason was angry, he left the house and he got into a fight. That way he could fight back. That way he could actually win.

Jason glanced up at the ocean again. He didn't know how long he'd been walking on the beach. It didn't feel like too long, but time always passed quicker when Jason was thinking to himself. Time always slowed down when Jason and Troy were fighting. He supposed it balanced in some odd way. He turned around and began to shuffle his way back home. He knew he had to go back home sooner or later. Maybe Troy would have left by now. Maybe Troy would be asleep, or in another room. Or maybe he wouldn't be. Jason knew what would happen if Troy was still at home when Jason returned. They'd fight again.

Jason rubbed his cheek. The cut was gone, but the pain was still there. He had gotten used to pain now. It never bothered him. He could heal the wound, and then he could ignore the pain, and no one would have to know. No one really knew about life at home for Jason. No one gave another thought about the windian teen who had been tossing rocks into the water, and who was now walking back down to Windia, to home.

It was a nice day that day. One of those days that makes everyone feel like they don't have a care in the world.