Harry Riddle - Love is a different time

Came to stay

Maybe a small part of him wondered why other children were dressed nicely every Monday for "visitors" and able to leave with a mummy and daddy but he was left alone, to sulk in his room. Disturbed, he had once heard Mrs Cole say. No family would want that.

No family would want him.

But it was what it was and Tom was strong. He could accept it. Being alone. He had a room to himself. He didn't have to share and he could spend time on his specialness. He didn't need to play or receive treats. He would get them on his own. Affection? Approval? They were means to an end, weren't they? To get what he wanted. Oh he would learn how to win over people and make them give him things. He would ignore the way their eyes widened, the ways their bodies shifted slightly away from him. He didn't mind being locked in his room, unable to play outside. Nor did he need to hear what Billy Stubbs had to say about his hair, or his clothes or his face. All he needed to do was protect himself. Sooner or later he would leave the Orphanage and none of these people, this loneliness will matter. It was a fact.

It was what he knew, with all his heart.

Until today, the 31st of July, the clock struck midnight and a flash of bright light woke Tom up from his cold bed, and he saw a small black-haired boy lying on the floor of his room.

The boy woke up and the greenest eyes stared at him, wearing peculiar large mustard-coloured clothing and thin pyjama pants, covered by thick black fringes that would have made Mrs Cole scream until sunset tomorrow.

Tom could feel it in his soul. Call it fate. Maybe destiny. Or a feeling. This boy was different. Alone. Just like him.

"Who are you?" He demanded. Partially out of fear, and out of curiosity at what he had just witnessed. The boy had arrived so suddenly into his bleary dull room. Almost like... magic .

It was as if everything he knew was about to be changed by the next sentence. This boy would open his lips and say his name.

"I'm Harry."

***

Harry either didn't have a last name or refused to give it making it very hard for a very flustered and upset Mrs Cole to gather information on him. She had notified the police, and they had interrogated him. All he had said was one time he was in his cupboard and then he woke up on Tom's bedroom floor. Tom had stared and stared at the boy the whole night until morning, knowing instinctively it would do him no favours to tell Mrs Cole what he witnessed last night. He felt sure, deep in his bones, that this Harry person was different, special and he wanted him.

Needed him to stay.

"We don't have space here, not enough mouths to feed!" She would complain loudly when the police would suggest Harry stay in the Orphanage until they gathered more information.

Harry had been quiet and subdued, waiting on a bench outside her office, wearing what Tom could see as rags with garish designs no decent boy would go out to wear. Tom had finished his chores quickly, and was eager to spy on the new boy, he frowned upon hearing Mrs Cole complaints. Harry was the smallest boy Tom had ever seen, and he was quiet and obedient, just like Mrs Cole liked them. Why couldn't she take him in and allow Harry to stay?

Frustrated, and a bit eager to be close to Harry. Tom opened the door to the visitor's lounge where Harry was sitting and quickly sat beside him. He was never allowed here, but he had to see Harry!

He stood before the boy, black fringes were just as messy as last night, green eyes just as bright.

Standing as tall as he could, Tom stared down at Harry. "I didn't tell Mrs Cole what happened last night." He spoke in a hushed whisper. "Tell me how you travelled with the bright light. You owe me for covering you." His young voice, tight with command.