The first thing I noticed about him is that he looked nothing like us. He looked completely fine and honestly, misplaced in a home like ours. There was no sign of insanity like some of wore on the outside. He looked perfectly feed and there was no strange cuts or bruises covering his body, or at least none I could see. The rest of us seemed to look like bags of bones from refusing to eat for day. Self abuse littered our bodies in the form of cuts, bruises and everything in between. His dark hair and green eyes seemed much too lively for a place like this. His eyes scanned the room where we were all sat. Earlier our "mother" of the house (really a social worker) had gathered us around the kitchen table and told us there was a new boy coming to our house. We all rolled our eyes and groaned that we would have to share our already tight home with another human.
Our home was a small, two story home covered with green vines and chipping white paint. Our home was supposed to be a home for the "helpless" teens when it opened first opened in the 60's but soon became a place where those poor souls would to try to find a place to live. Everyone who lived in the house had some kind of physiological illness which kept them from living in a regular orphanage but thanks to their illness, would not be put in prison. But lets be honest- someone has not been to the home other than nurses, therapists etc., in the last 10 years. I wouldn't blame them. Who would want to bring a crazy teenage into there home. The fear of us killing their families, hanging ourselves at the darkest hours, or simply being around them lurked in their minds- making us practically stuck in the home forever.
The house was filled to the brim so we had to share every bedroom. Of course we were all separated on gender and our case. They wouldn't want to put a premature serial killer with a severe self abuser so they didn't. The first floor was strictly for the worst of the ones who lived here. You can only imagine what some did to the most innocent of people. This floor was always locked down after 9 o'clock in the hope of nothing happening again... So of course it didn't. My roommate was the infamous Violina Burkes- convicted with the crime of drowning her two best friends in the river by her house and later copped them up and hid the remains in her brother's tree house. After being found to be psychotic she was sent to a mental institution in Michigan. Not more than a month later her mother and father died sending her straight here of "TEENAGE PHYSCOPATH." She was stuck her like glue and will never see the real world until she gets out of her one day.
I looked back up to the new figure at the home after staring at my bruised knees for a few moments. No doubt he would do well at a regular orphanage, but probably not this one. I wondered what he had done to end up here. He stood at the doorway waiting as our mother talked to the social worker who had brought him. I couldn't help to stare at the only half way decent boy I've seen in years. I glanced at Violina and I could also sense her attraction towards him. Despite his dark under eye circles and disheveled hair, I felt it too. And with that I wanted to know about him not knowing what he was.
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Sorry it's short but I wanted to do a little intro. This is my first "dark" fanfiction so ber with me please :) Vote and comment if you like it so far!
