I RҽɱҽɱႦҽɾ ყσυ... °ˢʰⁱⁿ ˢᵒᵘᵏᵒᵘᵏᵘ°

Untimely meeting ~1

As the closest person the boy had to a father took his choppy smoke grey hair in his fists, he spat; "You really must learn to obey. Otherwise, you'll become even more useless than you are now."

The orphan boys face was then aggressively shoved into a large bowl filled to the brim with water. Seconds felt like minutes as the liquid filled his lungs like acid, now salty from his tears.

The waters frigid temperature froze the boys fingers as he gripped the sides of the bowl frantically. His lungs pleaded for a drop of oxygen.

Though, this was normal. It happened all the time. The boy was used to it, though it never made him cry any less.

This is all he has ever known. This forced lifestyle.

His home was the orphanage, where he was told malicious lies disguised as the truth;

He was nothing.

He knew very little about the man who told him this daily. The headmaster. All he knew is that he ran the orphanage, running it like it were his very own minuscule country. He was the king, the Gouverneur. Everyone else were his pawns. Despite this, no matter what words spilled from the headmasters mouth, the boy believed they were true. He was the only father figure any of them had, therefore all they heard was the truth.

But meaningless was their truth. Their truth could lead them to lose points, a mere system of when a child is fed.

This particular orphan, had very little points. So these punishments he'd receive almost daily, only became worse with his hollow stomach.

The silverette coughed up the cold liquid as soon as the headmaster had let go. The tall man stood and kicked the breathless boy to the ground.

The silverette tugged on his flint colored shirt with his icy hands, tears spilling from his eyes.

"To your feet at once!"

The small boy shuddered at the headmasters booming voice, but listened nonetheless, shakily standing to his feet.

The headmaster once again took the boys hair in fists, fingers weaved through his hair tightly.

At that point, the boy was being dragged to his "room", where his chains awaited him. Surely his burning scalp would get a break eventually.

Through the cold hallways, filled with the glaring eyes of other infants, their eyes reflecting the gorey sky peaking through the leaves like patch work. down a short set of stone stairs, was a dark room. Although; one of the walls were replaced by sturdy iron bars.

The potent odor of unhealthy urine drifted through the musty hallways, becoming stronger with every step. The odor tickled at their noses, ensuring its entrance into their nostrils through its bitter stench. The bucket emitting the smell hiding shamefully in the corner of the somber cell.

An heavy iron door opend, dancing roughly on its hinges. Metal squealed and cackled as the headmaster shoved the silverette into the depths, palms slapped upon the cement flooring, Small pebbles wedging themselves into the crevasses of his hands.

Smoother hands reached out. They didn't have pebbles, they weren't discolored or swollen. That was a privilege only they held.

Those monochromatic hands wrapped harshly around multichromatic wrists, adding a bracelet of silver shame.

All the boy could do was hang his head as he felt the cold metal hug his wrists. Not an inch of wiggle room between his skin and the metal.

"You understand why you are locked up don't you?" Asked the headmaster, holding a lantern.