Adopted By Zach DeWall

Rainy Day

*A few years earlier...*

*Tyson's POV*

It was raining.

I didn't mind the rain -- it gave me time to sit inside and focus on what I loved most, painting.  Besides, despite what everyone thinks about rain being sad and depressing, I found it soothing.  It was much nicer to sit and paint inside than have to suffer in the heat outside, especially seeing as we lived in Florida.

However, some people were less enjoying of it.

"Ugh!" my friend Terrence stormed in, tossing a kickball against the wall.  "I don't like the rain."

"I can tell," I grinned.

"I was gonna play kickball with Matty and Scott, but then the clouds went 'Hey, let's ruin these boys' day and open up!'" Terrence sat down on the bottom bunk next to me.  The reason why we'd become such good friends was due to the fact his bunk was directly on top of mine, and also the fact we'd arrived in the orphanage at around the same time.  As I'd been told by the caretaker -- Ms. Lazaro, an elderly, kind Spanish lady -- my mother had arrived on the doorstep one evening, holding me in her arms.  She'd claimed that she couldn't take care of me herself, and wanted to send me somewhere where I'd have a better chance at a good life.  Terrence's parents, meanwhile, had been deemed unfit to take care of him, and he'd been dropped off here a few months after I had.

"Guess they really wanted to rain on your parade.  Or rather, your game," I joked.

"Your jokes suck, you know," Terrence shook his head at the corny one-liner, but he still chuckled a bit.

"I know," I admitted, standing up and walking over to a corner of the room.  There was a large dresser near the door, with a drawer full of our individual clothes, and on top of it sat my easel.  Ms. Lazaro had bought it for me on my 10th birthday, when I'd first developed an obsession with painting that wasn't just smearing paint on a canvas, and I'd been honing my craft ever since.

I opened my small box of well-worn paintbrushes and paint, realizing with a start that I'd probably have to ask Ms. Lazaro to buy a new pack soon -- I was running out of red, blue, and yellow paint.  What can I say? They were my favorite colors, and I loved painting things with them.  Today, I decided to try something new, however.  I pulled out a thin paintbrush and dipped it in my purple paint.  Then, I began to draw, letting the paint flow across my paper in the shape of a bird's folded wing.  I added an upwards curve, circled around to the head, and swooped down to finish the body.  Finally, I added three uneven tail feathers.

However, this was just the outline.  Once it was dry, I was going to paint the interior of the bird purple, with black and white highlights on the wing and tail feathers, and give it a bright orange beak and beady little black eyes.

Until that time, I was going to listen to music.

"Do you have any song preferences?" I asked Terrence, who had since moved to his top bunk and was laying on his stomach, watching me.  "Well, there's that local rock station, it's got some cool music," Terrence shrugged.  I turned the dial on our radio to the right frequency, and immediately, we heard a song.

Now I know
There's no one I can trust
I used to think there was
Tell me that I'm cutthroat
I think you've got your eyes closed
Feel the fear, and swallow back the tears
Let weakness disappear
There's nobody but me here
The killer in the mirror
Killer in the, killer in the, killer in the mirror
Killer in the, killer in the, killer in the mirror

"'Killer in the mirror'? That's kinda dark," I said.  "And what's up with the singer's voice?"

"That's just how he sings," Terrence defended.  "Set It Off has always been kinda dark like that, I think.  I've only heard a few of their songs." He paused, then added, "Fun fact: They're from right here in Tampa, so I guess they'd be considered hometown heroes."

"Really? Neat," I replied.  Not the type of music I'd ever listen to, but if Terrence liked it, I wasn't going to judge.  Besides, even just the fact that they were from Tampa admittedly made them cooler.

Suddenly, there was a small knock on the door.  Turning down the volume to hear better, I called, "Yes? Come in!" A young girl -- about 7 or 8 -- with blonde hair entered the room.  "Hey, Carrie!" Terrence greeted the little girl.  "What is it?"

"Miss Lo...ren..zo said we had to come downstairs!" Carrie explained, having a bit of trouble pronouncing 'Lazaro' and getting the whole word wrong in the process.  "We're possibly getting adopted today!"

Yes I realize that the real adoption system doesn't work this fast, but this is fanfiction.  Millions of people have done stories like this, what's another in the bunch? Lol