It was December of 2009 and I was eleven years old, taking residence at the Braus family household. They were a bunch of brunettes (I belonged in that aspect) who ate a whole lot of food. The amount they ate in on meal was more than what I had in a month, or maybe several even, when I lived with my mother. But that was so long ago now, three years I believe. It's all so hard to remember so I tried not to.

There wasn't snow outside today, it had melted this morning so the grass was wet, the dogs dump piles were hard and stuck to the ground as I tried to scoop them up. That was my job; dealing with the dogs shit. And it wasn't all that bad. It distracted me for the most part, but I tried to finish the job quickly since it was still very much cold, the wet grass was starting to freeze and crunch under my feet.

This morning Mrs. Braus had told me that she had a friend coming over at around noon, or anytime after lunch. At the time I didn't understand why she even bothered to tell me, it wasn't my friend who was coming over. Though I never had friends over, so that thought really wasn't relevant.

Apparently I was still outside scooping up the dog dump when noon rolled around because I saw a truck drive up the slippery hill into our driveway. I had saw that same truck maybe five minutes ago, whoever inside must have missed the house number.

I watched as the wheels slipped on the ice and the truck rolled down the steep hill of the driveway. This happened several times before whoever was inside decided to just fuck it and park on the road. Smart move, the icy hill was a tough one to defeat.

Minutes passed and the person inside the truck didn't start climbing up the hill so it was safe to assume that they went in the front entrance, the one that we surprisingly never used. So I had to finish up scooping the dog shit before I was summoned inside to greet the stranger.

After I was done, I threw the small scoop shovel next to the shed and made my way inside, where the furnace was on and quickly thawed out my frozen fingers. Inside smelt of dog fur, old wood, and paint. But honestly it was better than what it smelt like at the trailer I lived in for a good few years, I didn't mind it as a young kid though. I didn't know how toxic it was.

"Oh there he is, Eren! Come into the living room, will you? Meet our guest," I heard Mrs. Braus's voice ring throughout the house, bouncing off the walls in such a cheery way that almost made me sick. Or jealous, I couldn't understand how some people were just so happy while I felt the opposite. Perhaps I was just an angsty young teen, but still, I found it strange how the Braus family were so happy all the time.

Anyways, I made my way over to the average sized living room as my thoughts amused myself. The dog was at my feet as she usually was, following me until I stopped in the living room, in front of a man who sat on the leather couch. For just a few seconds I observed him; dark brown hair that went only a half inch past his shoulders, thin rimmed circular glasses, flecks of facial hair on his chin and jaw. He looked relatively nice, the corners of his eyes wrinkled as he smiled at me. It was a warm smile that somehow set me at ease. "So you're the boy I've been hearing all about?" The man spoke up and I only nodded as a response.

A few seconds passed by, the man obviously expected me to speak, so I let slip whatever words that were on the tip of my tongue. "What's your name sir?" And he laughed, lightly, merrily even. It was strange, but made my lips curl up into a small smile. "Grisha Jaeger, and it's very nice to meet you, Eren,"

At the time I wouldn't have suspected more of this man, he was simply my Foster parents friend, but somehow a few months later, he became more involved with my life.

On saturday's he took me out for lunch and treated me to bowling or another activity. He taught me how to spell his last name, saying that it would be mine too soon. I remember the first time he had me write it down; we were at Montana's, the restaurant that my Foster parents frequently visited, and I wrote it on the paper table cover along with my stupid doodles of spongebob and squidward.

"What do you think about adoption, Eren? Has it been an option for you?" Grisha asked just as I finished chewing. We were at Kelsey's now, it wasn't my favourite but it still was pretty great.

"Uh. Well I don't really mind the idea. It would be nice to not move anymore though," I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand after speaking. From all the hints the man had been dropping, I suspected he was considering the idea of adopting me. Maybe that would be a good thing, he seemed nice, and didn't do drugs. That was up to my standards.

"I've been considering it for a while now and I have decided that I want to adopt you. Would you like that? I have a nice house in a friendly neighbourhood, the school nearby is only a five minute walk," Ah, I knew he was going to ask that. It was strange though, his description of what could be my home didn't convince me to say yes. It was his hopeful smile. "Plus a boy around your age just moved in, in the next house over. Perhaps when /if/ you visit my house to have a look around, you can introduce yourself. How does that sound?"

I thought about this offer over a few bites of my steak before I nodded slowly. "I'd like that sir, I'd really like that,"

And so, that was where the next chapter of my life began.

Grisha adopted me in the month of December, right before Christmas. The snow fell outside of my new rooms window as I took in the scent of the house. It was a calm space, the only noise came from the dog that was sleeping at the foot of the stairs. I believed I could find myself calling this place home soon, it didn't seem forced or rushed, Grisha didn't push me to call him dad, he simply smiled when I asked about it over a home cooked dinner one night on the tenth of December, and said that I could call him whatever I liked.

And so I kept with Grisha for the time being.