Penny the Pineapple had assured the family that Steaky would be a perfect fit. He was young, excitable... and gullible. So they were all terribly excited to meet him. When Steaky arrived the next day, he was met with adoration and intrigue from Penny's family. He was so overwhelmed with joy, he didn't know what to do with himself! They found him charming in a quaint, adorable way. Like a pet to gawk at, but he was none the wiser. He simply interpreted it as an innocent child would, as simple joy that he was an interesting person. The words they said were coated in honey, even when they were teasing him for his poor eating habits. He didn't mind in the slightest. This warmth compared to the kind his normal friends gave was like comparing a bursting volcano to a small bonfire. The first was greater and hotter, but it would hurt more if something went wrong. But things wouldn't go wrong, they couldn't go wrong, Steaky couldn't fathom the idea that these people were anything wrong and that feeling would only grow with time.

Steaky was promised that their doors where open to him any time, as long as he never told anyone about them. He conceded, as he saw nothing wrong with it. After all, everyone seemed to wrongly think they were dangerous, so it's no wonder they only wanted him around. He'd proven himself kind enough to be welcomed by them, he'd EARNED their kindness.

Steaky visited almost every day, playing with the younger members, and chatting with the older ones to learn about being healthy. They had such a fascinating way of life, and he tried to emulate them in every manner. It must have been working, because the moment he tried to break his Healthy Diet at his mother's orders, he threw up violently. There were splashes of his own inky blood in the bile, so his mother rushed him to the hospital for the day. He was disappointed that he had missed a day with his friends, and he made sure to explain to them what happened. At some point, the visits had gained a sense of requirement. They said his excuse was good enough, and that he was forgiven. What joy he felt at those words.

The Food Family was excited. They hadn't had such a solid recruit in so long. Now they just had to wait for the inevitable chance to snatch up this unsuspecting little rat into their clutches. All was going as planned.

...

Steaky soon began to neglect his other friends. It didn't happen on purpose, he just... didn't have the time anymore. He'd grown used to visiting his new friends as soon as he left his house in the morning, and staying for hours into the night. There was no more space in his life for them, especially when the Family began to plant seeds of doubt in his head. They framed every single little thing his old friends did as negative, or against his own good. They didn't know what it was like, they weren't like him, and they certainly couldn't compare to the Family. Those poor schoolchildren just didn't understand why he couldn't tell them where he was going everyday, or why they couldn't come with him. They couldn't understand his new Healthy lifestyle. And they didn't like how scary he looked. He was miserable looking, tired and hungry all the time. His eyebags were sagging and darkening with every day, his skin was growing paler and paler, and his hair smelled like rotten meat, which was probably what it had become. It came to be that every day would have the child collapse at least once, but this was fine, this was normal. He was just going through the adjusting process, and it wasn't even that bad. Steaky saw himself as being happy as ever, especially with his new friends to help him along, but to everyone else he looked utterly corpselike.

The Food Family had successfully cut off one of his life lines. Now they just had that pesky biological mother to deal with. Thankfully, their opportunity arrived just before school started.

...

It was 9:00 in the morning, August 19th. Steaky was on his way out to see his friends when his mother stopped him at the door. She led him back into the kitchen and knelt in front of him, squeezing his shoulders. Her eyebrows were knit together in concern.

"Darling, I think perhaps you should stay home for today. It's good that you get your exercise so often but you don't seem to be feeling well..." Her voice wavered as her eyes raked over his ever-thinning frame.

"What? I feeling amazing!"

"That's not just it though... The other parents tell me they're worried about you. They say you go off somewhere every day and don't say where or why. I- I don't like the sound of that. There's too many horrid things floating around, I just want to believe it's not true but you keep leaving like this! You're behaving irresponsibly."

It was difficult forcing a mask of stern parenthood when she was so utterly terrified for her son. They'd only just left the era of the Spanish Flu a few years ago, and now he was as sickly as some of the victims. But he shouldn't be! And he shouldn't be running away like this! Children should go and explore and play but not like this, not when it was hurting them and they couldn't even speak of it. Her child's eyes darkened as he opened his hoarse mouth to speak.

"You're being silly. It's nothing dangerous." His diction was uncharacteristically cold, as if he was being told what to say.

"Really now? I'm the one being silly? Then tell me what you're doing when you run off all day."

That seemed to give him pause. The look in his eyes deeply unsettled the object woman, gifting her a sensation akin to boiling her stomach acid. Steaky shifted his feet and picked at his collar. "I can't tell you."

"You cannot?"

"No."

His mother sighed and placed her hand on her head. What a piece of work this child had become; he had been so perfect before! A heavy weight latched onto her soul. "Then I guess you can't go."

"What?!" he shouted, clearly taken aback.

"If you can't tell me where you're going or- or what you're doing, then you should NOT be going."

Steaky anxiously fidgeted with his hands, his feet already nervously shifting around. "But I have to!" He wasn't even trying to stop himself from yelling at her, which was probably the least disturbing part at this point. But if she got him through this, she had to be sure to teach him a lesson in respect. She would NOT have him talk to her like this.

"No, you don't have to. In fact, perhaps it would be best if you didn't leave the house at all. Maybe a week of staying inside will force you to settle down. And be grateful I'm not making it any longer with how you've been acting!"

"NO!" the child shrieked. "I can't miss a whole week, they'll kill me!"

His mother jolted up in surprise at this. What on earth was her little boy up to? Or rather- WHO was he talking about?

"...Steaky, who's 'they?'"

A long streak of silence hung in the air. Her child's eyes were flitting around in a panic and he looked ready to flee the room at any moment. She had to hold firm; this might go far deeper than she'd considered.

"I- I can't tell you..."

"Steaky! You tell me RIGHT this instant, who are you meeting every day?"

Steaky folded his arms against himself in a strange self hug. Oh now he'd REALLY done it. He- he didn't have a choice, did he? He was cornered now. His mother stepped closer.

"I need you to tell me, right now." Her voice, while clearly commanding, still shook like a dandelion in the wind. "I'll give you to the count of three.

One.

Two.

Thr-"

Steaky burst forward and elbowed his mother in the stomach, shoving her to the ground before bolting towards the door in a panic. The look he'd shot her in that final moment was a mixture of boiling hatred and utter terror. As he ran into the unusually windy outdoors, he heard her screaming his name, first in anger, and then in fear. But he couldn't turn back now, he could never turn back after this. He found tears streaking down his face as he raced through the town and down the hill, back to the Food Family's building. Back into the arms of those that wanted him. He spotted Penny waiting for him eagerly at the entrance.

"You're quite late St- Oh dear! What's happened here?"

The child flew into her open arms and tears stained her dress. He couldn't even formulate words, he was so distraught.

"Ohhh, come on inside darling, I am certain we can figure this out."

That dulcet voice dragged him inside the building.

...

After Steaky explained his predicament to the members, they pretended to ponder for a moment before one of the older ones chimed in.

"You did the right thing you know. She never should have asked in the first place."

Steaky blew his nose on another tissue. "R- really?"

"Indeed. In fact, it's a very good thing you got out of there when you did. Things could have gone terribly wrong." Steaky lowered his head dejectedly. "It's better off that you stay here with us."

"But won't everyone back home want me back?"

"Oh no no no. They always say that if you run away, they will look for you, but that is simply untrue. Many of us ran away to come here, and we never left. It is... better this way." The elder's face seem to fall slightly before picking back up again. "If you tried to go back, they would hate you for what they THINK you have done. They would throw you out on the streets! You only have us now... But you should be grateful for that more than anything."

Steaky remained silent while slowly burying his face in his hands. It felt as if a piece of him had just been taken out and killed.

"It is alright, we know it takes some getting used to. However, this is the best outcome. And fear not, we already have a room for you." Steaky slowly looked up at the elder in confusion. "We always have plenty of space for our family." they quickly explained with a smile.

...

Steaky situated himself in his new room. It had a nice creamish carpet and light blue painted walls. All that resided in it was a bed but they assured him he could decorate later. The child allowed his senses to absorb everything in the small room. The floor beneath his now shoeless feet felt foreign in its texture, and the air seeped into his inky skin. Even with his duller sense from the exhaustion of it all, he could still feel an atmosphere of foreboding hanging over everything. But he had nowhere to go anyways, he chided to himself as he crawled on top of the bed. The softness was addicting, and if he wasn't careful, he might find himself falling asleep before he even had time to think. He opted to grab a large pillow and wrap himself tightly around it, sobbing into the soft, downy fluff. He felt the need to say something, to explain or mourn to himself. Himself? No, he really wanted to talk to someone else. All he could manage to sputter out was, "I'm sorry mother..."

That was the last time the two ever saw each other.

And things would soon become much, much worse