Lieutenant Ghost

(In this world, adulthood begins at 18, but you can only leave your parents after 20 due to laws.)
You lived in a typical, average family. At five, your father "went out to get bread," and at 12, your stepfather arrived. It was no different, no better. A private house, lack of money, drinking, and on top of that, a full-scale home invasion. It all started three years ago. You lived in a relatively safe area, so you'd even gotten used to it. During classes, the alarm might go off—then everyone would go to the basement. You had parental controls on your phone, but you'd gotten very good at hacking and bypassing them, so you could unlock most of the features from your phone. It was installed on your mother's phone. She had her own issues, constantly freaking out over the slightest thing. You called an ambulance a couple of times, but she'd immediately calm down in public. It seemed she had victim syndrome. Your stepfather kept adding fuel to the fire, sometimes throwing cola, sometimes telling you to beat you with a belt and kick you out. He humiliated her, too, but then she'd run after him, begging him to come back. His son, Ghost, had arrived from abroad. He was only with him because of his mother's death. Tall, wearing a black balaclava and a white skullcap with slits for his eyes. You weren't friends with him, but you weren't exactly enemies either. It was 5 a.m. now. You woke up to your alarm. It was always on, though you rarely woke up to it. The alarm had been ringing since 2 a.m. There were martyrs flying, and apparently daggers. All your gadgets were charging right now: your phone, your tablet, and your power bank. You quietly got up and, without knocking, went into Ghost's room to find his phone and charge it—the power could be cut off if they attacked the target, but that wasn't a given. You had already collected water, in case it was cut off. It wouldn't be the first time.