Year One: October
He could walk. He could talk. He couldn't say his r's properly yet, but he knew he would overcome that. He was happy.
He'd asked for a bed; something that he could easily get in and out of. They were reluctant at first, but Tom soon realized that big eyes and a pouty mouth could get him almost anything he wanted. It was night-time, and he was lying down on a bed in a room on the ground floor of the orphanage. With the bed, they'd given him his own room. None of the other babies had their own rooms. They probably didn't even know what a room was. Tom smirked to himself.
He was smart. Far smarter than any of the other children in the orphanage, probably even the grown up ones. For the past month, ever since he'd said his first word, he had been learning the names of different things.
Running his tongue over the little white bumps in his mouth, he remembered what he had been taught that day. Teeth,they were called. The name seemed apt, somehow. Bed and cradle and room he'd learnt ages ago. The thing around him was a diaper. The Nice Lady said that soon he wouldn't have to wear it anymore. She said that soon, he would be able to go to the toy- something. He sighed. He couldn't remember what it was called. He couldn't wait till he didn't need diapers anymore, though. He hated being dependant on anyone.
One evening in October, Tom saw that the older children were wearing funny looking clothes and going out with baskets in their hands. He would never understand human beings. Why would anyone want to go out looking like that?
He heard footsteps approaching and looked up. The Nice Lady was approaching him, a small smile on her face. "They're going Trick-Or-Treating," she said. "Every year, on the 31st of October, children dress up as different things and go out to candy from the neighbourhood."
Tom blinked. "Silly," he said.
The Nice Lady just laughed and planted a kiss on top of his black curls. Tom found that he didn't mind this as much as he used to.