So, for those of you who know me already, you should know that I've been mentioning a new story! Well, here it is:) I'm gonna warn you now though, there's a ridiculous amount of OCs. 9, to be exact. I mean, its a story about an orphanage. I kinda need people to live there, right? I swear they don't play a big part in the story. They're just sorta...there.

Anyway! This is why The Dark Side of The Moon is taking so long to update! Btw, I swear that'll be updated soon!

Enjoy the new story;)

Heavy Rain

(Logan's P.O.V.)

I can't remember a time where I wasn't always alone. They show me pictures of a baby and his parents. A boy with short brown hair and a smile permanently etched onto his flawless face. They say its me, but I think they must be lying. I can't remember ever being that happy.

My entire family died in a plane crash. It was a private plane. They were going on a vacation, a family reunion if you will. I was too young to go. I was the only Mitchell left.

You see, my family was loaded. We had millions. Apparently I spent the first two years of my life in a mansion. Not like where I am now, but a huge, comfortable mansion.

Yes, I'm living in a mansion. I wish I wasn't. This mansion? It's an orphanage. Or at least that's what they call it. I think its hell.

Imagine the houses they use in horror movies. The ones down long winding roads in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by old, overgrown forests. A large gothic style fence lined the edges of the property. I think they're trying to keep us trapped, not to protect us.

I know I feel trapped, staring out of my seventh story window. My room, if you could even call it that, was practically in the attic. I've been here the longest, I get the worst room. Wouldn't you think it'd be the other way around? It wasn't. The reason this place is still running is because the kids that get adopted the fastest live a pretty good life. They get the large rooms with the king sized beds. I'm surprised any even want to leave.

I know I'd want to.

When you've over extended your stay, you're sent to the other rooms. You're downgraded for being an inconvenience. The new arrivals take your old rooms. You move up another floor.

Over the years, I managed to make it all the way to the top. All the way to the attic. There was a door leading to a large roof balcony, but I didn't go out there. I was afraid of heights. Heights killed my family. Heights ruined my life.

I suppose I could've just moved down a floor. It's not like the house was full. I just didn't want to have to pack up my stuff. Even if it meant escaping my attic-like room. I liked the seclusion it offered. I liked being alone.

My rusty mattress creaked under me as I stood up. It was 7:00. Dinner was starting.

"Hey, Logan!" Kyle, a little blonde eight year old said, passing me on the stairs. He's been living here for half his life, earning himself a room on the sixth floor. People don't tend to stay here long. Lucky me, right?

"Hey, Kyle," I said, smirking at him. I was like his older brother. When I turn eighteen, I don't know if I could just leave him here. Hell, maybe I'll adopt him.

"Have you seen Sam?" He asked, stopping at the bottom of the stairs to look up at me. We were only on the fifth floor. Four more flights to go.

I shrugged. "I don't know, little man. I think she was outside by the lake," I loved the lake. It was just outside of sight and surrounded by trees. It was peaceful. It made me feel okay about being alone.

Kyle smiled. "After dinner I'm gonna ask her to pass the football with me. She's into that stuff, right?"

Sam was the new girl. At just nine years old, she was abandoned by her mom. Her dad died last year overseas at war. She was a tomboy, if anything. I think she got it from her dad. Her shoulder length brown hair was always pulled up in a loose ponytail. Her short bangs dangling in front of her face.

I smiled at Kyle. "Yeah, I think she'll like it,"

After a few minutes, we finally made it down to the first floor. My legs were used to the workout by now. As you can imagine, we were all in pretty good shape. Maybe we should get an elevator...

"Logan, help me get the plates,"

I sighed. Mrs. Kratchman was the elderly woman who ran the orphanage. Mr. Kratchman...well, no one knows what happened to him. All we know is that its just us, a huge old house, and a cranky old woman who hates kids.

I've never taken a liking to her. I don't think she likes me much either. I was the oldest person here, being sixteen. She's been the closest thing I've ever had to family, and she ignored me. That made me despise her more. I know I keep to myself, but fourteen years and you can't show me the slightest amount of compassion? Come on, have a heart.

I walked into the kitchen after her, picking up a pile of plates. I've memorized every flaw and crack on their surfaces over the years. They were all ancient. I've used them forever.

"Hurry up, boy. Don't let your laziness starve the rest of us," Mrs. Kratchman snapped, exiting the room with a large pot. It surprised me that her weak arms could support it.

My feet dragged me out to the dining room. A huge table spanned across the middle of the room. Half of the chairs were filled. All of them were opposite of Mrs. Kratchman.

I sat down at the head of the table on the kids side. I could see Mrs. Kratchman sneer at me. It wasn't my fault the kids liked me more. I actually took care of them. I loved them individually. Maybe if she took some time out of her 'busy schedule' they would like her more.

I set the plates in front of each of them, earning polite 'thank you's. I looked up, confused. There was an extra plate.

Sam silently walked into the room, slipping into a chair. She was sitting in between our group and Mrs. Kratchman. I walked over, handing her the last plate.

"Sam, why don't you come sit next to me?" I asked, placing a hand lightly on her shoulder. She tensed for a moment, then relaxed and nodded her head.

I pulled her chair out and walked her to the end of the table, placing her plate at the empty chair next to mine. Kyle must've moved over. He usually sat next to me.

"Logan," Mrs. Kratchman glared, motioning to the steaming pot in the middle of the table. I sighed, serving it to everyone. Looks like another one of those beef stew kind of days.

"Too much, Logie," A small voice said after I took my seat. I looked down to the left to see an adorable set of brown eyes staring at mine. They belonged to Katie, a little four year old girl who got here a few months ago. She was taken by social services. Her parents never abused her, she just wasn't living in a child friendly environment.

I smirked, scooping some of the contents of her plate back into the pot. If anyone could make me smile, it was here. Or Kyle. Or any other kid here. Too bad they would all leave eventually. I was stuck here. Who would adopt a sixteen year old?

Sitting next to Katie was Dominic. He was six and has been here for three months, about the same time as Katie. Next to him sat Melody. She was seven, here for six months. I think she has a crush on Kyle, but she's pretty shy. After her sat Ryan, an eleven year old. He's been here for a little over half a year. Rumor has it that a family is looking to adopt him. Lucky bastard.

I looked down to my right, being finished with the left row. Sam picked at her food, moving it around her plate with her dull fork. Kyle, who was next to her, was staring intently at the side of her face. Next to him sat Rachel, a quiet twelve year old who loved horses. She's only been here for three months. Braden, the relaxed fourteen year old, sat next to her. He was the closest to my age, but kept to himself like the rest of us. He's been here for about a year.

The phone rang loudly, echoing through the huge house. I flinched, being kicked out of my silent thoughts. Mrs. Kratchman slid out of her chair, walking to the other room to answer the phone. The rest of us finished eating quietly.

Sam was being moved to another room. One on the third floor. Kyle was happy. She was moving closer to him.

No one thought into it besides me. Her moving only ment one thing.

There was a new kid coming.

I didn't know what to expect. Maybe another little kid, someone else to absorb the majority of my time. The kids were probably the only think keeping me sane. If it wasn't for them, I'd have nothing to occupy myself with.

Maybe its someone my age. I shook my head, dismissing the thought. That's stupid. Don't get your hopes up like that.

It hurt to know that I've been here for fourteen years, never seeing someone else my age. I never left the house. I had no reason to. It was obvious that no one wanted me. Not even Mrs. Kratchman, and it was her job.

If someone wanted me, I would've been adopted years ago.

I wouldn't be locked up in this god forsaken house.

A black Lincoln town car drove up the long gravel driveway. I could tell it belonged to social services. Who shows up in a Lincoln? Oh, right. That could've been me if my parents never died.

The car stopped in front of the door. I extended my neck, trying to get a better view from my seventh story window. Rain was falling heavily, blurring my view.

Wow. What a great introduction to your future home, kid. Welcome to hell.

I saw a sliver of blonde hair before a large black umbrella appeared above it. I wondered it the weather was reflecting their mood. I know it would've if that was me.

The sound of the door creaking open echoed throughout the house. The car pulled out of the driveway, leaving the poor blonde to face this by themselves. What a nice social services person!

I decided to greet the newcomer. My feet carried me down the flights of stairs leading to the first floor. All of the rooms were empty. I guess the kids all beat me to it.

"-just like Logan!" I heard Kyle say excitedly. My eyebrows came together in confusion. Why were they talking about me?

I saw them all surrounding the poor new person. Whoever they were, they didn't seem to mind the attention.

"Speak of the devil," Braden said, turning towards me. The rest of them turned to look at me, revealing the newcomer.

The person slowly looked up from the ground, meeting my eyes. "Hi,"

Oh my god. It was a guy. He was my age, I could tell. His long dirty blonde hair was damp from the rain, along with the long black coat covering him. His bottle green eyes stared into mine. Mine widened in shock. Oh my god.

"I'm Kendall. You must be Logan,"

A new story has been born! I will love you forever if you tell me what you think! So, review already! Haha:)

I got this idea while playing The Sims 3. If you've played it, you should know where the Goth's live, right? The house inspired me. Except, you know, it isn't seven stories tall. Psh, minor details.

School's almost over and my final exams are all being shoveled down our throats! Yes, shoveled. Down our throats. In fact, I have an exam tomorrow. And it's midnight. Ah, that so defines my life. Uploading a story before studying...

Anyway, I love you all.

Review! 3