Hey! This is my first story! Hope you like it!
The back of the station wagon smelled of dusty cardboard to Ross, as he sat in silence, hugging his knees to his chest. His mom was inside the building on his left, finalizing his 'arrangements' for the next few months. He knew where they were. He had begged and pleaded, even made promises he couldn't keep, hoping his mom would let him stay.
But no. Of course not. His mom had never wanted this, wanted him. And after his dad died, well. There wasn't much of a reason to keep him around anymore. Ross knew he was a mistake. He'd only been told that about a million times. A scum of the earth. Never should have existed to begin with.
His thoughts were interrupted as the car door was swung open, and he was pulled out by his forearm roughly. It was his mom, and standing next to her was a dangerous looking man with cropped brown hair and crooked teeth. He was old, probably in his late forties. His smile was wicked, and gave Ross the urge to climb back into the car.
His mom shut the door before he could, and the man gripped his arm just as his mother had dropped it. She gave him a backward glance and a wave as she walked to the drivers side door. "I'll be back for you at Christmas. Maybe."
And just like that, she left. No goodbyes, no hugs, not even one clue that she might have cared about him. He was alone. What was left of his father, his whole world, was gone. He had no belongings, no family, no friends, nothing. His mom was never that nice, but, at least he had certainty. Now, there was no telling what was to become of him. It all laid beyond the creaky metal gates of the Littleton Orphanage.
Ross was dragged through the front door by the man who held his arm with a vice grip. He would've put up a fight, but he didn't have anywhere else to go. No use in making a scene.
When he first entered, it seemed relatively normal. There was a receptionist desk, with a sweet looking lady at the counter. She gave him a warm smile. "Well hey there sweetheart. You must be Ross, correct?" She asked, making comfortable eye contact with him. He nodded.
She came out from behind the counter, holding papers and other things. "You having a rough day, kiddo?" She asked, noting his sniffly nose, red face and puffy eyes. He nodded again, too scared to speak.
"I'm sorry to hear that darling. Let me know if there's anything I can do to help, okay?" She said, kneeling down so she was eye level with him. He didn't respond, only stared at his shoes in fear. "So, I've got some things for you. This is your bracelet…" She said, fastening a plastic bracelet around his wrist. "And here's your folder. It has schedules, maps, rules, things like that. It's full of important things, so try not to lose it." Ross nodded as he took the bright green folder from her. "And here's a journal. You can do whatever you like with it."
"T-thank you. Where a-am I supposed t-to go now?" Ross asked, his voice shaky with tears held back. He sniffed, wiping his nose on the sleeve of his hoodie.
"Well, you can go to the dayroom if you'd like. That's where you'll meet other kids. But, if you want to see your room, or maybe take a nap, the boys dorms are just off to the left of when you first walk in, and your room number is on your bracelet. Steven can show you." She said, gesturing to the man still holding tight on his arm. Ross nodded, muttering a thank you, before turning away and looking shyly at Steven.
"Lets go." Steven said stoically, before he was tugging on Ross's arm, and pulling him through a set of locked double doors. They walked down a few corridors, and made a couple of turns before they were faced with another set of locked doors. Steven opened them with a keycard, gave him a wave, and said, "Good luck," before pushing him through and closing the doors.
Rocky saw the sniffling boy come in. He didn't really pay much attention at first, not until the blonde kid had wandered off into his dorm. It was something about the way he had came in, shy, nervous, and incredibly upset. It seemed like he was new to all this, like he had just been orphaned. Now, thats something you don't see every day in this orphanage.
Most kids here are transfers, as in, they fucked up somewhere else, and got in enough trouble to be sent to this place. That's why it's so high security, with all the locked doors, locked windows, frequent drug tests, no knives, plastic silverware, and so on and so forth. It was almost like a psych ward, only you could tell that none of the staff gave a shit about what happened to the kids here. They just kinda, let the violence happen.
Rocky sat slumped over, in the same corner he had sat in since his first day here. He was writing in his journal, as per usual. Everything Rocky didn't say went into that journal. He wrote a lot of poems and short stories, as well as writing every thought and feeling that came into his head. He only did it because he didn't have anyone to share said thoughts with.
His mind was still on the new kid when the bell rang for dinner, so the events that occurred next were only natural. As Rocky stood from the corner to go eat, he wondered if the new kid had heard the bell, or even knew what it meant. He really shouldn't have cared, but he just couldn't get over the look of pure heartbreak on the boys face when he came in. He didn't want him to go hungry tonight also.
So, instead of heading to the dining hall, he decided to give the boy a heads up. Walking down the corridor with all of the boys rooms, he peered through the crack in the door of each one, looking for a sulking blond kid. Oh boy, did he find one.
His room was at the very end of the hallway. When Rocky pushed open the door the rest of the way, he saw the boy, curled up in a ball, trying to stay silent as he cried his eyes out. He walked up, and tapped the kid on the shoulder lightly. He lifted his head, and wiped his eyes. "W-what?" He choked out, his voice thick with tears.
Rocky was a bit flustered. He wasn't sure what to say, because it sure seemed like this kids parents had just died or something. Missing one dinner probably wouldn't matter. He decided to try anyway. "Hey, uh, it's dinner time. I know you're new, so…" Rocky trailed off. The boy just buried his face into the pillow, letting out a sob of despair.
"Hey, man…" Rocky stopped. It really wasn't any of his business. This kid just really looked like he needed a friend. "Do you...wanna talk about it, maybe…?" He questioned, thinking for sure the boy would be angry for him asking.
He was wrong. This kid went on a twenty minute rant about his family, about his dead father, alcoholic stepdad, and irresponsible mother who never wanted him and doesn't love him. He's never had any friends, no family besides his mother, and now not even her. He doesn't have any clothes besides the ones he's wearing, and he's never even owned a toothbrush.
Telling someone else about it seemed to calm him down quite a bit, and as he was catching his breath, Rocky held his hand out to him. "I'm Rocky, I'm 5 years old, and I've been an orphan my whole life."
The boy shook his hand. "I'm Ross, I'm 4, and I'm an orphan, since today I guess." He wiped his nose with his sleeve.
Rocky smiled, and looked towards the door. "Well, I think we missed dinner anyway." Ross turned over, burying his face in the pillows on the small bed that he had been provided.
"I don't really care. I'm tired." He grumbled, and Rocky took a hint to leave. Before he exited the room, he turned to Ross again, and tried to speak, tried to say something that would make this whole situation better.
Finding nothing that could help. Rocky simply turned and walked out of the room, leaving the kid on his own to cry.
Ellington sat sprawled across one of the couches in the dayroom, and Xbox controller in his hand. His focus lied on the bright television just a few feet away from him, displaying a war scene. He cursed as he was killed, the screen switching to a respawn timer.
Having died, he passed the controller to his left, needing to wait his turn to get another chance. He moved his feet as his girlfriend came out of her room, and went to sit beside him.
"Hey, Ry baby." He said, leaning over to kiss Rydel's cheek. She giggled, and leaned into him, setting her head on his shoulder.
As the two of them got comfortable together, Rydel opened her mouth to ask, "Did you see the new kid come in?"
Ell shrugged, putting his arm around her. "Yeah, I did. What about him?" He responded, thinking back to when the young blond kid came in, still sort of crying.
"It's just, he seemed really upset. Do you think anyone's gone to talk to him yet?" She asked, the concern evident in her voice.
"I don't know, why?" Ell asked lazily. New kids came in every day, why would Ry decide to care about this one?
"Maybe you should, you know? You could offer to be his friend or something. Maybe you could ask him if he wanted to play videogames with you and the guys."
Ell sat for a moment, thinking quietly. "I don't know. I doubt everyone would be happy with me if I invited a needy little kid to hang out with us." Seeing the look of disapproval Rydel was giving him, he sighed. "Well, why don't you go talk to him?"
She stood up, and started to walk away. "Sometimes I wonder why I'm still with you." Ell called after her, but she only flipped him the bird, and kept on walking.
"Son of a bitch." He said, standing up from the couch.
"Dude, where are you going?" His friend Riker asked him.
"I guess to talk to the new kid." Ell said, sighing, before heading in the direction of the boys rooms.
Ryland laid, curled up in a ball underneath a bed that was most certainly not his. The older boys were up and about in their room, talking and laughing, kicking around a ball. Ryland willed himself not to move, not to breathe, not to do anything that would give his position away.
He had came in here, looking for one thing. Money. He wanted to be able to leave, if only for a day, and escape the premises of this godforsaken place. He had originally found what he wanted, a wad of cash earned from doing less than legal things, stuck between the bars of this kids, Riker's, bed frame. Then, he heard voices coming his way, and knew he needed to hide in order to avoid a severe beating, and hatred from the older kids for the rest of his childhood and adolescence.
After what seemed like forever, the voices quieted, and then all left the room. Ryland waited a good five minutes before gingerly sliding from his hiding place, and bolting out of the room, no looking back.