Fire on the Nearest Horizon (Pt 1)

The boy stared at the searing flares that encircled the wood cabin and smiled as he let a tear slip from under his mask. It was a simple mask that only showed a tiny sliver of his nervous grin, one that he had gotten on his birthday from his dad, who died thirteen days after giving him the joy of finally receiving something on his birthday, other than rude stares and odd glares. He never knew why they stared at him like that, since he was told to not look in mirrors his whole life, as they were the "works of the devil," as quoted by his religious step-aunt.

He never understood why she stared at him when she didn't think he was looking; it wasn't visible with his mask, after all.