His room was a disaster, the boy could see this just at the first glance. It wasn't that it was bare or he was deprived from the basic needs of a child, anyone could tell that that was certainly not the case, but it was all just too much. There was a plethora of stuffed animals strewn around the place, arranged in no sort of order what so ever, and what little space wasn't occupied by them had other toys or "children's items" covering it. The bed was a simple single bed, also covered with stuffed animals, but that wasn't the problem. The problem was the rocketships on the covers. He most certainly was not a person who enjoyed rocketships unless they were involved in a complicated and detailed engine failure resulting in the death of hundreds of people. The ones on his bedsheets were not.
Beyond sighed and shoved the toys off of the bed, onto the floor below. Usually what little control he held over his OCD would be removed by such an action but, considering the state of the room around him, he was already far past that stage of control. No, after seeing such a thing he actually visibly twitched. Placing his bag down, he pulled out what little belongings he had, storing them in appropriate places around the room. Clothes, a pocket knife and a picture of his parents.
The picture was not by his own choice. In fact, the only reason he had a framed image of the very people who created the monster which was Beyond Birthday was because the Police officer who had come to collect him had suggested that it would be a suitable thing to do considering his predicament. His exact words were:
"Wouldn't want to forget the faces of those you love now would you, son?"
It was better to avoid questioning at that stage and so he had complied. After that he had not been able to dispose of it due to the fact that the other children had pictures of their loved ones. It was infuriating.
The soft knock at the door caused Beyond to turn and stare at the, still smiling, woman who was now blocking his exit. He was trapped in a room full of disarray and hopelessness. There was no escape. Beyond wondered if this was an inclination as to what was going to become of him in the near future but soon disregarded that thought. He would never be trapped. Not by anyone.
"How do you like it?" The woman asked as she walked into the room, accidentally kicking one of the toys to another part of the room.
Beyond did not care for the toys in the slightest but seeing them kicked across the room to land in a place that it had not previously been in bothered him more than he cared to admit. He silently went and collected it, replacing it in the place it had previously been occupying.
"I hate it."
The statement was blunt and harsh yet her smile did not drop in the slightest.
"I'm sure that's not true! It's got everything a boy like you could want! Have you seen the bed sheets?"
He stared at her blandly, his fingers drumming lightly on his hip.
"I hate them."
"Hate is such a strong word!"
The sigh that he emitted was auidible and clearly disappointed in her response.
"Very well, I strongly dislike them. Is that satisfactory?"
"I can already tell you're going to be a clever boy."
Beyond let out a groan of irritation and resentment before turning to look around, searching for an object sharp enough to do some damage with. There was nothing.
She was not a suitable first victim anyway, but there was only so far the young boy could be pushed.
"Votre bêtise ne connaît pas de fin. Je serais vous font une faveur en prenant votre vie de vous."
His new 'mother' blinked in mild confusion but her smile remained. Infuriating.
"Come on then, sweetie, dinner is almost ready, you can play with your toys later."
"The only playing I will be doing with the damn items is burning them until there is nothing but crushed dreams and ash left behind."
But the burst of anger was lost on her as she led him out of the room and down the stairs to the kitchen. At least the kitchen held knives sharp enough to cut her, but something told Beyond that even if he were to injure her she would still withhold that painfully enthusiastic smile. He wondered just what he would have to do to remove it from her at this stage.
The kitchen was simplistic but tasteful, unlike his bedroom, but he was not holding out much hope for their culinary skills. They did not seem to be educated in that department, in fact, he did not expect them to cook anything worth eating in the slightest.
"What are we consuming?"
"Well, I know it's not Sunday but I thought we could have a roast. There's nothing like getting a bit of meat in you after a long journey, wouldn't you agree, son?"
The father figure in this unfortunate tale which will, with no doubt, end in nothing but anguish and despair decided to answer that question. It appeared that he was the one making it on this occasion. Beyond wondered if this was a regular occasion or merely something which has happened this once. Depending on the outcome of the meal he would decide if he would continue to eat here or would take his meals elsewhere.
The meal was uneventful and, despite their desperate attempts at getting him to participate in small talk, he stayed silent as he ate. His mind was too busy with wondering whether or not the items used to prepare the food were sanitary or if he was eating something riddled in disease and potentially life threatening bacteria. Unfortunately, there was no way to tell now, the utensils were already dirty from the preparation, however he could always wash them himself and ensure it did not happen again.
In fact, the whole house would need to be sterilised and cleaned on a regular basis as to ensure the areas were sanitary. This was yet another reason to burn the stuffed animals.
"Beyond, darling, would you like dessert?"
He sat back in his chair and clasped his hands in his lap. "That entirely depends on what it is."
"Yorkshire pudding and jam."
That piqued his interest and he found himself staring at the wall opposite him as he tried to contemplate whether or not he had ever consumed such a thing. No, I have never tasted it. I wonder...
"Yes please, that sounds as though he could be interesting."
This seemed to delight both of them but, in retrospect, that was the most the child had spoke throughout the whole ordeal. Perhaps they believed they were making progress. They were not.
A yorkshire pudding covered in jam was passed to him and he found himself staring at the red jelly-like substance covering it. It appeared to be sticky, something which he did not enjoy, yet, upon tasting it, it was actually rather sweet. How... Interesting.
"Is this red substance the jam?"
They seemed surprised by this but he had never before tasted it.
"Yes, it is."
"And it is strawberry flavoured?"
Yet more surprise.
"Yes."
"I want more of it. Now."
The demanding tone had gone by unnoticed and he was provided with the jar and a spoon. Looking back on things now that had probably not been the smartest move from the new parents, after all, jam was quite a sugary substance and could cause no end of cavities and destruction within the childs mouth. But they were all to willing to please and would comply with any demand he had.
They wanted his love.
Even if they had to buy it.
*Authors Note*: So sorry this took so long, my grand mother has fallen ill and I've been caring for her while doing other things, so I'm a bit pressed for time. But yeah, thank you for all the reviews, subscriptions and views. I really appreciate it. Thank you!