2 – So it begins

I chuckle slightly, looking across the table, to face Joe. Rolling my eyes, I say 'Yeah. I might be a lunatic, but I'd rather that than a bedwetting child.'

We all laugh slightly; everyone knows that Joe wet the bed until he was fifteen. Give him one more year, and he can leave this dump. He's lucky. I'm only fifteen now. Three years for me. After my parents were killed, I spent a short time in a loony bin. I wasn't the only one there who believed in demons. There was a guy called Grubbs. He was about the same age as me. That was last year. But I recovered faster than him, and within two weeks, I was sent out, having no other known family, to an orphanage. Great. It's not all bad though, the managers are nice, and they provide us with sweets and all that crap. Most of us in here had family killed around teen years. We help each other out. Joe was only twelve when his dad died. His mother had died giving birth, his grandparent's long gone – old age – and, like the rest of us, his uncle and aunts had either died or, on his mother's side, never existed.

Later - in my room. I'm trying to cut my hair in the mirror – it's looking too long at the moment. I stop to survey myself in the mirror quickly. In the past ten months, I've changed a lot. My hair is darker, now a shade of chestnut brown - Probably because I haven't been out much, meaning no sun. My eyes are lighter than they were when I first came, their deep green. When I left the 'Institute for the mentally damaged' they had huge bags under them, and they had looked empty, sad. My shoulders have broadened dramatically too. From looking like a stick bug, I now look like a wrestler. I snip off a last bit of my hair, happy with the style, and then pull from my desk.

Later - in the lounge, I'm sitting with Joe, Jess, Alex and Sophie. We're watching 2 And a half Men. Jess randomly turns to face me and asks. 'What was it like in the nuthouse?' I raise an eyebrow at her slowly, and then shake my head. 'Bad. I was lucky though. Most people were in straight jackets, and locked in their rooms 24/7. I was apparently one of the fastest "healers" they'd ever seen'. She nods slowly, and I can't help but add 'Why. Going on holiday?' The others look at me stupidly for a second, and then catch on. Cue laughter. Jarred Sol – Entertainer to the mad.

Night. We're sitting in Jess' room, the biggest room in the home. Most people are too scared to dare go in there. She got it because she's "hard". The room's seen two suicides before. It was originally meant for four people. No one will sleep in there. There are seven of us, eating crisps and chocolate. We're watching some horror flick, crap about zombies. Only Jess, Alex and Darren are actually watching it. The rest of us are either lying back, half asleep, or joking. Me? I wouldn't dare go to sleep with all these people in here. I sleep talk. And I'm too coward to go to my room alone. I've just been lazing around, until a word catches my attention.

'Demons'.

I'm not sure who says it, or why, but I'm instantly alert, my head snapping up. I turn around to the direction it was from. Three people are huddled, murmuring quietly. I can only see Joe properly. I tune into their conversation.

'I'm serious.' I think that was Maria speaking. 'Wait – you're saying that demons really exist, and they live in a different universe?' Joe laughs. Maria scowls at him. 'I know. I saw them yesterday! I was in town, nine o'clock. There was some lumpy red thing floating down one of the empty streets, with a crocodile dog and a green kid following him!' More laughter. By now, all of the others are looking, after Joe's loud laugh. Everyone in the room is laughing – except for me, Maria and Sophie. Sophie's looking worried, and I'm staring gobsmacked at Maria, while she scowls around the room.

Later, the others have gone to sleep on the floor, I shuffle over to Maria. She's leaning against the wall, murmuring to herself. I look at her carefully, her not noticing me for a minute. She suddenly looks up, her eyes sparkling. She's crying.

'What. Come to laugh at me?' She snaps, looking away. I shake my head, sliding down to sit by her. 'I believe you.' She looks up, her eyes suspicious. She suspects some cruel joke. But when she see's I'm serious, she starts to talk.