Techno's Secret Garden

Techno watches his parents' party go on from his window. All gather at the courtyard, singing, dancing, chattering, they all do it shamelessly. Dressing as "best" as they can with things that don't suit them at all. Lights are stringed against fixtures and tables of food and drinks are spread out with no end in sight. Techno isn't allowed to go to the parties. Who wants a child running around after all? Even when he's eleven now, much older than a toddler, he still isn't allowed. He doesn't even want to go. They're too loud. Too fake.

No one looks after Techno, he barely looks after himself. All his parents care about is their parties that they have almost every night. All the servants are too busy planning those parties. That leaves him with no one. He doesn't cry about it, actually he doesn't cry at all... Or smile. He's almost like a ghost. Drifting from hall to hall with no one even glancing at him. He's not even here.

Today is no different but instead of being in his own room he shuffles into his parents' room. Pictures of their parties and friends hang on the wall. He wasn't in a single one, not even one when he was a baby. He wasn't documented, he wasn't loved, at any point in time.

Techno grabs all his mother's things on her dresser which has a mirror in front of it, flinging them across the room. He uses his fist to bang the mirror, it shatters, splitting his skin open. Blood drips on the expensive carpet. All Techno sees is dirt on it. Nothing looks pretty to Techno. And why should it? To him it's all gray and bleak and loveless. What's the point of having all this stuff?

The items around him begin to shake, the ground following. Shrieks come from the party, plates break, and pictures fall off of the walls. Techno's legs fail to keep him steady so he falls to his knees. He quickly shuffles under his parent's bed as more things are flinged under it. He brings his legs up to his chest and covers his head with his arms. The screams never cease and even after it stops it echoes in his mind and dreams.

Glass flies at him, cutting his arm, and the bridge of his nose, all deep cuts. They would have to tear out the glass and stitch skin. But he doesn't cry. And he doesn't cry when they tell him his parents are dead.

⟰⧫⟰ ⟰⧫⟰

Techno steps off the boat and is filed in with the other kids who lost their homes and families during the earthquake. All of them in a line, Techno sticking out like a sore thumb being the tallest and bulkiest, and having the longest straight brown hair out of the boys and girls. It's not like anyone would have cut it for him. His scars don't help either.

They all wait to have their names and numbers called, when they are called a relative takes them home. They call Techno's name and number but his uncle Skeppy isn't here to pick him up. The other children laugh and he's told to step to the side.

Techno had a small hope that his uncle would have been different. Turns out he's just like his parents. One by one, they all leave, it's dark, and only the workers remain. Techno sits on the ground with his head down, nodding off. He wonders if he'll have to live on the streets now. He tries not to let it seep into his chest but the wind adds onto the misery of being forgotten. Techno's hands and cheeks turn red. But he still doesn't cry. A man with sideburns kicks him on the side. Techno quickly stands up.

"Is this Techno?" The man asks the worker who was calling the names of the children and their numbers earlier. The worker checks a clipboard.

"Yep, this is Techno. Are you Skeppy?"

"No, Skeppy is dead." Techno's eyes widen. He's never met his uncle but if this isn't Skeppy, then who is this guy? "I'm Jschlatt, Skeppy was a servant but he passed away. But in his will he asked if his master, if anything were to happen to Techno's parents, that he would take him in. That master is no longer in charge of the household but the current master is willing to take him in." The man hands the worker some papers. The worker scans it and hands it back with a nod. The man finally looks at Techno. "What an unresponsive little thing." The words, although about him, aren't said to him. "So plain and not much of a looker."