*
A young boy, eyes round and full of hope, gazed at the bright full moon in the night sky. He hummed softly to himself as he thought of a better life: one with parents to love him and care for him.
Maybe far away, or maybe real near by,
He may be pouring her coffee,
She may be straightening his tie.
Maybe in a house, all hidden by a hill,
She's sitting playing piano,
He's sitting paying a bill.
Betcha they're young, betcha they're smart,
Bet they collect things like ash trays and art,
Betcha they're good, why shouldn't they be?
Their one mistake was giving up me.
So maybe now it's time, and maybe when I wake,
They'll be there calling me baby.
Maybe.
Ever since he could remember, he'd been living in this foster home, with a written promise that someone, someday would return for him. He kept a small, broken angel necklace near him at all times. He'd had it ever since he'd been left there, nearly fifteen years ago. The foster family had been nice—while the wife was alive, at least. But she had died not too long ago, which left him with the husband: Mr. Walter Hannigan Greene. ((A/N: *COUGH*)) He had never had any real attachment to Mrs. Greene, but after she had gone, Mr. Greene… well… had decided to let Than do all the work.
The young boy was Than—short for Nathaniel. He had semi-long, blonde hair and deep brown eyes that you could fall into if you weren't careful. He was small for his age, mostly because he never ate very much when he was growing up. He just didn't find any big deal in eating enormous amounts of food. He'd always been the only foster child in the home, and you would think that he would've gotten a little bit better attention than he did. But he didn't. When he wasn't being yelled at for ignoring a single detail in his chores, he was being constantly ignored. Which he didn't mind, for the most part. It gave him a lot of time to think.
Betcha he reads, betcha she sews,
Maybe she's made me a closet of clothes.
Maybe they're strict, as straight as a line,
Don't really care, as long as they're mine.
So maybe now this prayer, the last one of its kind,
Won't you please come get your baby?
Maybe?
Suddenly the light came on and he froze. He was in for it now…
"Nathaniel! What are you doing up at this time of night?!"
"I-I was just admiring the moon?"
"We'll you can admire the moon some more—after you scrub this floor 'til you can see its reflection!"
Than inwardly groaned but muttered, "Yes, sir..."
"What was that?"
Than looked up at him square in the eye and answered sarcastically, "I love you, Mr. Hannigan."
"Shut up and get to work!" the man stormed out and made his way down the hall.
Than sighed but went to get a bucket of water and a cleaning brush. He returned to the room and got down on his hands and knees to start scrubbing. Unbeknownst to him, he was being watched by fairies. ((A/N: if you say you don't believe in them, you'd better start clapping your hands before they fall down dead. I need them for this next song.)) They pouted as they watched him start working.
It's the hard-knock life for Than.
It's the hard-knock life for Than.
Instead of treats, he gets tricked.
Instead of kisses, he gets kicked.
It's the hard-knock life!
…
It's a hard 'nough row he hoes!
Cotton blankets, 'stead of wool.
Empty belly, 'stead of full!
It's the hard-knock life!
Don't it feel like the wind is always howling?
Don't it seem like there's never any light?
Once a day don't you wanna throw the towel in?
It's easier than putting up a fight!
No one's there when your dreams at night get creepy,
No one cares if you grow or if you shrink.
No one cries when your eyes get red and weepy,
…
Empty belly life!
Rotten smelly life!
Full of sorrow life!
No tomorrow life!
Santa Clause he never sees.
Santa Clause, what's that? Who's he?
No one cares for you, a smidge,
When you're living with a pig!
It's the hard-knock life!
"You'll stay up, 'til this floor,
Shines with the moon's reflection!"
Yank the whiskers from his chin!
Jab him with a safety pin!
Make him drink a …
I love you Mr. Hannigan!
It's the hard-knock life for Than!
No one cares for you a smidge,
When you're living with a pig!
It's the hard-knock life,
It's the hard-knock life,
It's! The! Hard! Knock! life!
Than glanced up and the fairies scattered. He looked around. Did I just hear someone singing? He sighed as he finally finished scrubbing the floor of the entire room. He wiped the sweat off his brow and gazed out the window. Clouds had covered the sky since he started working, and this caused him to sigh. There would be no pretty sunrise to watch this morning.
He made his way to the kitchen and poured the dirty water out of his bucket and down the drain. He then took a moment to clean out the brush he'd been using, so that it would be clean the next time he needed it.
There's got to be more to life than just a foster home and cleaning, he thought to himself. He winced as his stomach growled. He remembered that he hadn't had lunch or dinner the previous day. It wasn't only because he didn't want it; it was also because there was hardly anything edible to eat in the house. He rubbed his stomach ruefully, wishing for a nice piece of cheese or something to sate his hunger.
Just on the off chance that something might be there, Than opened the refrigerator door. To his surprise, 'lo and behold, a piece of cheese! He glanced around again before taking it out for closer inspection. He couldn't hear the mute giggles of the fairies watching him as he began nibbling on it. Mmm, cheddar…
*
A/N: I have to stop there. Because I'm hungry. X_X; And I've reached over 1000 words for this chapter. Way to go me. ^_^ *rushes out into the kitchen*
Next chapter: Someone pays a visit to Mr. Hannigan's home. Than sings "Tomorrow" (eventually). The fairies turn into mutants and wreak havoc on the poor little town! AAAAAAHHHH! Ok, so not really, but that would be interesting, wouldn't it?