You're My Brother

Day 5- Conversations

    Nearly a week has passed, since Keith entered what he calls The Home. Five days since he left his house, his room, his bed, his couch, his kitchen, his yard; all of it.
    Each day, the staff try to talk to him. They always ask the same questions, 'are you liking it here', 'have you made any friends', and 'are you used to your new home.' 
    He always answers with a simple 'no'.
   'How are they that dumb?!' Keith thought to himself as he sat alone on the back patio. 'Why would I ever like it here?!' He couldn't understand how and why they thought that within only five days, he would be used to a completely new lifestyle.
    Keith pulled his knees up to his chest, hugging his legs with a sigh. "I don't get it..." he muttered. "Why me...?" He felt a lump form in his throat.
    As if his mother abandoning him wasn't enough already... But now his father is gone too. The one person who ever loved him died last month.
    He looked down at the brick floor, and to his right. There, sat a small, light purple, and fuzzy plush toy. More specifically a hippopotamus. It was given to him by the staff, and, apparently, dropped off with a bunch of other toys by another kid. A kid who had parents. A child who is loved. One who has their own home.
    It didn't mean much to Keith where it came from. All he cared about was that it was now his, and that, for the most part, it looked new. The fact that it was 'his' is a rather simple way of explaining why he liked it. To be more specific, it was the fact that it was something he had, something he could claim ownership of. That's what made him glad to have the hippo. It was the only thing at The Home that was his. Nothing else was.
    "You don't like it here either, do you...?" He asked the toy, knowing he wouldn't get a response.
    Most children name their stuffed animals and dolls, however, this one came with no name, and will never get one. Keith finds it useless to name inanimate objects, but does feel slightly sorry that his new 'companion' had no way of being addressed. But even so, he had his reasons for not naming it.
    "Sorry you don't have a name...." Keith muttered. "I'm not like other kids.... I'm sure you figured that out...."
    There was a knocking sound behind him, and the child turned quickly to where it came from.
    It was just Shiro, who had developed a tendency to check on Keith.
    Keith was, after all, a 'special case'.
    The majority of other children who come to The Home are clingy or seek out people to try and form some sort of bond with. Keith, on the other hand, has talked to no one.
    "How are you feeling?" Shiro asked in his usual, kind tone.
    Shrugging, he replied "fine..."
    "May I sit with you?"
    Keith groaned. 'No you can't' he wanted to say, but instead went with "yeah, sure."
    "Sorry for interrupting you're little... quiet contemplation time or whatever you call it." He began, taking a seat next to the boy.
    "It's fine..." Keith lied, picking up the hippo and placing it between his chest and his knees.
    Shiro noticed the obvious and rather terrible attempt at hiding the stuffed animal. "Does it have a name?"
    The boy only shook his head.
    "That's a shame..."
    "Mhm..." he hummed in the most bored and monotone way possible. 'Why do you even care?!' Keith pouted, expressing his dissatisfaction with Shiro's company.
    "Hey, Keith," Shiro changed to a compassionate tone, one less playful than before. "You've been here all day. Don't you want to socialize? Or at least make an effort to talk to people?"
    "No." Keith snapped. "I don't. You're supposed to be my friend or something dumb like that, right?" He asked Shiro, not waiting for an answer before continuing. "Why don't you understand that? I don't like it here and I never will."
    "I understand it just fine, and it's because I'm your friend that I continuously ask you how you are." Shiro glanced down at Keith, "I know you don't talk much, but I'm not going to give up."
    "Why?!" Keith suddenly asked. "I'm not going to change! Just give up."
    Shiro knew it was best to leave him alone, but seeing Keith so distant from the others and so lonely made him want to befriend him even more. Not everyone has someone to talk to when they first get here, but Keith will. He's made up his mind and one way or another, he'll find a way to break the walls around this kid.
    "I'm not backing down, Keith. Like I said, I am your—"
    "We're not friends!" The child yelled. "You just happened to have an empty bed in your room. You don't know me! You don't know anything about me! I don't care if you like me! You shouldn't! I don't like you or anyone else!" Keith stood up and marched to the door. "Just leave me alone..." he added, his voice cracking with emotion.
    Slamming the door shut behind him, he ran up the stairs and into his room.
"Why?! Why can't they listen to me?! Why can't anyone listen to me?! I just want to be left alone!" He asked himself, sitting on his bed with a loud huff, the old springs squeaking as he did so. Something about it angered him. It wasn't normal and he hated it. He hated all of it.
    Everything here is old and creaky. The doors, floorboards, the beds, the stairs. All of it. And he was stuck here with these awful creaks and unthoughtful people for the next twelve years.
   "It isn't fair!" He yelled and threw the plush hippo across the room. It made a soft squeak as it hit the wall, slowly sliding down onto the empty bed opposite his.
    Keith growled in anger. Another stupid and annoying sound in his life.
    Wanting to just disappear, he crawled under the blankets, letting his eyes adjust to the dark space around him.
The child's eyes began to sting with hot tears. He wanted to go home. He wanted to run away. To go back to the life he had just weeks before. He wanted to see his father again.
Keith made a desperate attempt to squint away the tears. He promised himself he would never cry. Not ever again.
He crossed his arms and buried his head in his elbows, lying face down on the mattress beneath the blankets. Keith shut his eyes as tightly as he could.
The world around him became dark and silent.

***

When he opened his eyes again, he was curled up on his side, still under the blankets. It had been so quiet that he had fallen asleep.
He estimated about three or four hours had passed.
Keith groaned, wiping his eyes and cheeks where the tears had dried. Slowly, he poked his head out from under the sheets, looking for the alarm clock on the bedside table which partitioned his side of the room and Shiro's.
Instead of a clock, he met nose to nose with the hippo. The one he threw across the room earlier.
"How di—" Keith quickly shut his mouth when he sensed someone else's presence in the room. "I'm not talking to you..." he grumbled as he wrapped his fingers around the body of the plush hippopotamus and pulled it under the blankets with him. "I want to be alone. Is that too much to ask...?" He questioned, using an annoyed tone in an attempt to shoo them away.
There was no reply.
"Either say your stupid speech about us being friends or leave. Don't just stand there...!"
Again, silence.
Keith squashed the hippo against his face, silencing his aggravated moans and sighs. He tossed the blankets off of him and sat up. "What do you want?!"
Shiro was sitting across the room from Keith. He practically ignored the kid before giving a very slight shrug. "I'm not here to bother you."
"Then why are you—"
"I'm just studying in the only room I know is quiet."
Keith didn't believe him. "For what?" He asked through gritted teeth.
"Nothing special." Shiro answered as he flipped through a book in his lap. "Just a test for flight school."
"Flight school?" This seemed to peak the child's interest.
"So you do like something."
"It's just a question." Keith spat.
Shiro chuckled and showed Keith his notes. "I'm almost twelve." He began. "I'm taking an entrance exam to get into a school called the Galaxy Garrison. Nothing special, just a nerd school for talented teens."
Keith hesitantly took the notes from his roommate and skipped over the words, focusing on the detailed drawings of ships and control panels. "You drew all of this?"
Again, he chuckled. "No. I printed them off. But I wrote all of the notes. I could explain it to you if you'd like."
"No... it's okay..." Keith passed the book back to Shiro and looked out the window behind him. "Why do you want to go to flight school....?"
"Honestly... I hate it here. Sure, not as much as you, but still. I want to explore what this world has to offer. Maybe even go to space." He copied the child, looking out the small wooden window. "We're like caged birds here. But up there, we're unstoppable. It's just a dream, and so definitely impossible, but it's my only bit of hope. You're probably too young to—"
"No." Keith interjected. "I understand completely."
The teenager shifted his gaze to the kid across from him and smiled slightly. "Then I guess we're not alone in this outlandish world."
Keith's eyes widened. He had held a decent conversation with someone. It was terrifying to realize what he was doing. He was opening up again. "Sure..." he muttered, looking to the clock and hopping off the bed. "I'm going to get some dinner... Good luck on you studying, I guess..." Keith left the room without waiting for a response.
'Are you an idiot?!' He scolded himself, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. 'You can't make friends. You're destined to be alone. Just get over it...'