Making Us~T. Riddle

Chapter 1

Thomas

"Sit down, Tom"

His voice was rough, like brick scraping against cement. His hands were large and had small scars and incisions from rumored bar fights. They were smudged with ink like he'd been working for hours and knowing Mister Arkin he probably had. His hair was cut short and neat, military style and he wore a tight fitting shirt that showed off his muscular chest and arms. He smelled like cheap cologne and smiled at me from his side of the desk which seemed like a world away.

I stared down at my own small hands wondering whether I'd ever be as big as him. The room had a musty smell to it, as if the windows hadn't been opened in a long time. Books and torn out pages littered the floor and I carefully stepped over them on my way to the old torn leather chair that sat directly across the large man behind the worn desk.

His smile was razor sharp and I struggled not to squirm at the sight of it. Rain was frantically slamming against the window and the sound of the other children splashing in the puddles in their thin second hand raincoats traveled all the way up to the third floor where I sat.

Everything about him looked like it belonged, from his rough beard to the vain popping out on his neck and I wondered what it must've felt like to carry yourself with such confidence. Mister Arkin worked for the orphanage as the head counselor for the boys. Mostly the teenagers who were starting to go through puberty, but he helped out with us little ones as well. I was only seven years old but looking at him I thought that I knew what a man should be.

Men don't cry. It was the first words I had ever heard him say on my first day of counseling with a group of other boys who hadn't liked me much. That same day was the day I discovered my powers.

"Now, Tom. Miss Presley tells me you've been asking questions about your parents."

My insides turned to ice as I slowly looked up at him, cheeks tinting slightly but I hoped he wouldn't notice. It was true. I wasn't stupid and I knew I was an orphan, which meant I had no mom and dad or extended family that I was aware of. When I was little and all I knew was the walls of the orphanage I thought that it was like that for everyone. Until the first adoption fair. I didn't like them since it felt like I was being auctioned off to huge smiling faces who were asking questions that they thought sounded appealing to me.

I noticed now that some kids at school had parents to go home with and didn't share their bedrooms with other boys and didn't eat in the large dining hall everyday for breakfast and dinner. So I'd asked Miss Presley where my parents were and when they were coming to get me.

I'd seen other boys and girls leave with grownups, when were mine coming?

She hadn't answered me.

"Yes sir." It was all I could muster.

He nodded and leaned back in his chair folding his large hands in his lap. "Now the others think you're too young for this, but I think you're ready."

I hated the way I perked up like I was about to hear something great, something important that would change my life forever. He'd tell me that my mum was famous and beautiful and that she loved me very much, because all mothers loved their children, they were obligated to do so. And my dad had an amazing job and he was smart and kind and they were on their way, they were almost he-

"Your mother is dead, Tom."

Five words that set my world on fire and turning to ash. I was ripped from my dreams and fantasies as a cruel wave of reality settled around me like dust. I was suddenly very aware of where I was and why.

"She came in one night and gave birth to you here, but it was too much on her body and she died. But before she did she told us to name you Thomas Riddle, like your father."