Saint Peter's Children's Home. Safe, comforting, but mostly boring. You see my name is Daniel James Howell, and I've been here since I was seven years old. There are two rooms for the children here- one for the boys and one for the girls. The first room when you turn right at the top of the stairs is for the boys. The door always squeaks when it opens, and the walls are a faded blue colour. The room itself has four beds, two against the left wall with a window separating them, and two against the right with a bookshelf as the divider.

At the end of the room there is a toy chest half filled with playthings which we've all outgrown. The 'we' I refer to are the three boys, including myself which occupy this space. The first bed on the left is 17 and he's called PJ. He's got brown curly hair and the most amazing eyes, although it all seems to make him a bit mysterious. He's the newest, and the shyest of everyone who has passed through. The kid only likes to be known as PJ, he won't tell anyone his real name and he keeps his nose buried in this notebook, so I just try and leave him alone.

The bed across from him on the right is 15, and his name is Chris. Chris is my best friend. He's got brown hair and loves to tell stories, and cause trouble. The bed beside him on the right is my bed. I'm 16, and Tavy says I get my brown hair and eyes from my mum, but I barely remember her. I basically run this place, and everyone knows it. The bed across from mine is empty and I hope to keep it this way. If there is one thing you get sick of in this place, it's losing people.

And then there is Tavy. She's a stout lady of about 35 with wild curly hair and rosy cheeks. Tavy is our housekeeper of sorts- basically she deals with the boys of the house. I would tell you more about the girls, but I don't know much about them. Sometimes PJ comments on them, telling about how beautiful one he saw in the hall was. I can't bring myself to care. Chris seems to think they all fancy us. Tavy doesn't like Chris very much, for good reason mind you. Pranks keep the boy entertained, and most of them are aimed at her if they aren't aimed at PJ or me.

It was early on a Saturday when Tavy burst into our room, the sunlight streaming in as she pulled back the curtains.

"Rise and shine boys!" She laughed, bopping PJ on the head. He groaned softly and retreated under his duvet, blocking out the sunlight. Chris moaned and rolled over.

"Morning Ms. Tavy." I yawned as she straightened up the rocking chair in the corner by the door. I was in a white t-shirt and boxers, much like the other two.

"You boys better start getting ready, you've got a friend coming!" She smiled as she stood by the door, "I want this room nice and tidy and all of you dressed by ten 'till!"

The three of us mumbled an 'okay' as Tavy skipped out and shut the door behind her. I glanced at the pocket watch I had from my dad- the last thing I had from him. The time was 15 minutes after seven. Immediately my brain wondered why we weren't up at eight like normal. Who was this 'friend' Tavy was referring to in the first place?

"Hey guys?" I said as I sat up in bed.

"Yeah?" Chris followed suit. PJ just slid out of bed from across the room.

"I think we're getting another housemate today." I announced, my voice a bit sore from sleep as my bare feet hit the wooden floor.

"Woah woah woah, I don't want anyone else." Chris scowled as he pulled clothes out of the small wardrobe.

"And you think I do?" I sighed. I didn't expect PJ to contribute to this conversation- I figured a new room share would just be one more person to ignore.

"Whatever- let's just hope he's not a freak." Chris said as he grabbed his toothbrush and exited, heading for the bathroom at the end of the hall.

Sound was absent between us until eight, when we heard a prompt knocking on the door a floor below. We all immediately dropped to our knees and pressed our ears to the wood.

"Why hello Philip!" We heard Mrs. Darby (the woman of the household) greet the guest.

"Philip, hello. We are pleased to have you." Mr. Darby chimed in afterword.

The new boy's voice was too soft to hear, despite our efforts, along with the following conversation. When we heard the stairs creak we all put on faux smiles and stood near our beds. The door opened moments later, the Darby's entering first soon followed by Ms. Tavy, a frail woman with frown lines and short blond hair after her, and last was a boy similar in appearance to me but with black hair and piercing blue eyes. His skin was pale and his clothes were simple, but he had something about him.

"Hi, I'm Dan." I found myself saying after a quick introduction from the adults.

"I'm Phil. Nice to meet you." The boy seemed to be saying that out of politeness, his eyes shifting around the room as if surveying a prison cell.

"I'm Chris, and that's Peej. Boy don't talk much, just warning ya." Chris nodded towards Peej, who was standing by the window with his arms crossed but his eyes examining Phil.

"Oh. Hi. I assume that's my bed?" Phil looked towards the bed across from mine.

"You're a smart one." I smirked friendlily, watching as the black haired boy grabbed his trunk and pulled it over to the small bed.

He had a ghost of a smile before he went to work unpacking. I sat cross-legged on my bed and watched him. I memorized the way his hands organized things and pulled open drawers, how his eyes squinted ever so slightly when he contemplated what to do with something. It was rather entertaining if I do say so myself.

By noon he was all set up and the lunch bell rang. We all sat on the left side, the girls on the right. Phil sat by me, across from a girl called Carrie. Once Chris said he thought Carrie fancied me, but I knew she fancied a boy called Alex who left a while ago. And that ends my knowledge of Carrie Fletcher.

Phil stayed silent during lunch, not eating much and trying to avoid conversations. I kept my eye on him, fighting with my mind on trying to befriend him. Afterword we all went out into the garden for sports and I found him sat alone beside a fountain in the courtyard, his arms wrapped around his knees. I sat beside him awkwardly, not sure what to say.

"Hi Dan." He spoke first as he turned and raised his eyebrows at me.

"Um hey Phil. How's it going?"

"This place seems nice. They all do." His words were soft but there was something hiding behind them, a terrified voice perhaps or maybe it was just deep seated hatred for everything do to with these homes.

"I've only been in one." The words seemed to flow automatically.

"You're lucky then. I've been in five."

"Five? Well you're here now. And you can't get better than Tav-"

"I'll leave soon enough." Phil spoke again, his voice calmer and nicer than the words he spoke.

"How old are you?" I asked again, not trying to get absorbed in his odd sadness.

"Sixteen. And you?" He answered.

"Same. PJ is one year older is Chris is one year younger," I paused when I noticed he wasn't really listening, "We're about to go inside. Come on now." I stood and waited for him to follow suit.

That night I lied awake for a while after lights out. I listened to the steady breathing of now three other people, and watched the dust dance in the beams of moonlight streaking in from the the curtains. I heard the occasional creek from the floorboards below and beside us, along with the lonely sound of owls calling in the distance.

I thought about Phil a lot too. My mind was trying to figure out this quiet boy with jet black hair who seemed so sad and so happy at the same time. I sighed deeply in the almost-darkness before closing my eyes and pulling the covers up.

It wasn't until the second week that something worth telling happened. Chris and I were returning to the room after our showers when we were stopped by the sound of PJ and laughing. They both looked up as we entered, but neither paid us much mind.

"Okay now what's an Owl's favourite subject?" Phil bit back a laugh as PJ licked his lips and paused.

"I have absolutely no idea. What?" The latter gave up with a laugh.

"Owlgebra!" Phil giggled the punchline as PJ broke into laughter.

"This flirting is sickening." Chris mumbled under his breath as he grabbed his comic books and fell on his bed.

I didn't say anything, mostly because it was nice to see PJ happy; however it did hurt a little that Phil had wanted to socialize with PJ and not with me. By ten o'clock they had stopped talking and Phil had gone back to his respective bed. By ten thirty they were both fast asleep. By eleven o'clock I was still awake, barely able to hear the church bells down the street through the walls.

We all had school books and lessons, just in the comfort of our room. Our tutor would come in on Mondays and Wednesdays and teach us, and Tavy would fill in the rest of the week. Chris loved lessons, he loved to learn and read. PJ however seemed to only want to hold pencils he was allowed to draw with. I didn't mind them too much, but I wasn't the most clever in lessons. Tavy would always tell me, "The world needs firefighters too!" And one day I realized what she meant by that.

Phil seemed better at maths. It was almost frustrating how little time he would spend on equations, what he could accomplish in half an hour took me three. It wasn't until one night when he saw me almost in tears a little after lights out, still struggling with geometry, when he spoke directly to me.

"Need some help?" Phil stood in front of my bed, his hair messed across his forehead and his voice soft. He had on glasses as well.

"I can manage." I sniffled, feeling humiliated and defeated.

"I finished that ages ago. Are you sure you're alright?" He leaned over and looked at my paper. I pulled it back.

"Of course I'm fine! Not everyone can be fantastic at this stupid freaking subject, okay? Leave me alone Phil." I snapped, all patience drained out of my body as my frustration combined with exhaustion.

"Okay then, whatever. Goodnight." Phil sounded a bit hurt but went back to his own bed.

That night I had night terrors for the first time in a long time. I woke up in a cold sweat with my duvet on the floor and Chris sat on the end of my bed.

"Dan. Dan wake up." He whispered, his hand on my shoulder.

"Chris?" My voice came out a scratchy whimper.

"Are you okay?" Chris soothed. He had been there when everyone else was leaving. When these nightmares began.

"Yeah. Yeah sorry I'm fine." My voice was shaking a little. All I wanted was to ask Chris to say with me, give me somebody to hold. But I couldn't do that.

"Alright, let me know if you need anything. Goodnight mate." Chris padded back to his bed and I was alone again. Although as I lay in silence once again I noticed only one person breathing steadily. Three of us were awake, one of us just wasn't saying anything. Seconds later a tiny piece of paper hit my face. In scratchy dark handwriting there were three words, "Are you okay?" I grabbed a pen off my side table and scrawled back "Yep." And tossed it back across the room. Fifteen minutes late there were three sets of lungs evenly breathing in the room. I tried to sleep.