Holding on and Letting go- Ross Copperman
Ch-1: Lost and found
He sat there, staring out the floor to ceiling glass windows at the famous Seattle skyline, sipping on a glass of scotch. It was one of those days at the office, when he'd just sit there and think. Think about his life, his fifty shades of fucked up and about his future.
At the age of twenty eight Christian Grey is the third richest man alive on this earth. When people saw him in the boardroom or on TV shows, all they saw was a cold, controlling, powerful man with the whole fucking world at his disposal. What they didn't see was his dark soul and an even darker past. A part of his life, that he had buried so deep that even the most despicable of the things done to him, he wouldn't tell.
But it were days like this when he'd remember. He'd remember and relive the day when his already fucked up world crumbled before his own eyes.
It was a day like any other. Sunny and bright with a hint of hint of humidity in the air. Christian dragged himself out of bed. He was only five at the time. It was a Saturday. Every Saturday the orphanage held a brunch where the kids were showcased to potential adopters. It was also the time of the week when Christian could have a bite of real food. He had forgotten the last time he had eaten and his stomach roared and his head spun reminding him he'd pass out very soon out of hunger. There was nothing he could do though. He never knew who his parents were. He however never quite understood what he did that was so bad that they had to abandon him.
All his life, which was over a span of 5 years, he lived in the sorry excuse of an orphanage. Not just any kind of orphanage. But the kind that beat your shitless if they didn't like way you looked. Despicable and unspeakable things were done to the kids there. Especially the girls.
It was as if the scars on his back burned at the reminder.
They were left unfed and unattended for weeks. It was never this bad though. There was never a time when he'd forget when the last meal he had was. He had forgotten that day. With a growling stomach and a pounding headache, he cleaned up and limped towards the hall room where the brunch was being held. He had taken a beating the previous night. Probably that's why he was limping. Why he was beaten though, he couldn't remember. The hall room had a steady stream of voices cackling inside and a sweet smell of actual, real cooked food.
That was a day that not only Christian but all the other kids of the orphanage looked forward to. It was their chance at life, at getting adopted and escaping the hellhole of an orphanage. But alas, not everyone get what they want. Now do they?
Christian remembered every single detail of that horrifying afternoon. Every scream, every smell.
Everything.
A fire had broken out from the kitchen. The incompetent idiotic excuse of a cook couldn't even handle a lighter properly. She was new after all. When the fire broke out it spread quickly, almost like a wildfire consuming a forest. Christian was the closest one to the exit. In fact, if he remembered correctly he hadn't even entered the room properly.
And then he was running. He was running like he was being chased by hell itself. He ran out the small orphanage. It was a rusty old one storey building with one exit. It had opened on to a courtyard that was as barren and empty and sad as the rest of the orphanage.
When he had run into the open he dragged in air by the lungful. Barely registering the blisters forming on his skin or the fire cackling and consuming the orphanage whole. What he did register was the ascending darkness that threatened to swallow him whole.
And then he slipped, no he fell into oblivion.
When he woke up curled up in the corner of an alley, with no recollection of where he was, what had happened or where he was, he registered the hunger pangs. Twisting and gnawing at his insides.
He was too tired to even think of what he should be doing next.
He was jerked out of his thoughts by a knock on the door.
"C'mon in," he said in a monotone voice. This was so not a good time for him to be interacting with people. He hated any sort of interaction after one of his episodes. And yes this was one of his episodes. He had those.
The door opened fluidly revealing a stunningly gorgeous figure with striking blue eyes.
Blue eyes he thought he'd never see again. Yes, those were her eyes, eyes he'd never forget.
...
She was supposed to be dead.
Not for the first time that day he wondered if he was dreaming.
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