Chapter 2
Danny had been transferred. Again. Shipped off to another home, like a piece of meat. They had kept him one day to do some psychological evaluations, and he had made sure he'd passed with flying colors. He had even made himself cry and hug the psychiatrist, telling him that he missed Bert a lot. No one would suspect him of murder, now. In the new home where he was, there was a little foster girl, a teenage foster boy, and a 'father'. It was obvious to Danny that he was only there for the paycheck, and after getting very feed up with the new father, who had hit him, Danny had fled the house.
Danny hated the city of Boston, but that where he always ended up. As far as he could remember he'd only been in foster home after foster home. Twenty-nine foster homes, to be exact. The only thing that he knew of his parents was a birth certificate. Just two names, like needles in a needle stack. He didn't care about his parents anymore, or wanted to find them. He had been so angered by the fact that they gave him up, he refused to call himself by the last name on the birth certificate. He just went by the last name, Ivy, which was really his middle name.
He had run five straight blocks, and finally reached town. He had hidden his bat in the front of the house in a bush, and ran without looking back. He had lived in house not far from this one six months ago or maybe, it was nine…he couldn't remember. He wandered around until finally, he reached the edge of town. A small store, with a large going out of business caught his eye. 'Harold's Hunting Place' He remembered this place; this was where he got his knife. He'd stolen it when the shopkeeper's back was turned.
Inside the shop it was warm. It was near closing time, and there was only one other customer inside. Danny headed straight to the glass case with knives inside of it. He stared at them, trying to imagine how it would feel to hold each one in turn. How it would feel to stab someone with them. He let a smile cross his usually serious face. He could hear the shopkeeper bustling about in the back, out of sight. Maybe, if he could just pick the lock…But then, he felt something poke into the back of his neck.
"Don't move, kid." He heard a man's voice whisper in his ear. Danny swallowed hard, and realized what was poking into his neck. It was the barrel of a gun.