Below Ground

Chapter 1: So It Begins

I woke up to the sound of muffled yelling, loud and screeching through the paper thin walls, my 'parents' were at it again. Jeez, it's like this every night, fighting, screaming, yelling, and to think they have a kid too. A young boy named Charlie, sweet kid, doesn't talk much but he's really nice, always puts others before him, even now I don't understand how he managed to be the offspring of such petty lowlifes. If you knew half of what I knew you would understand but I'm not gonna dwell on that now, Charlie wouldn't like it and I don't want him upset any more than he is now, even if he's not awake yet

Something porcelain was broken, I knew it was porcelain because it's the only thing we had-- they had in the house that could break, besides glass of course but glass was lighter. I grumbled to myself as I practically dragged myself out of bed, dragging my feet against the hardwood floors as I went to the door, I pressed my ear against the door, trying to listen to what the assholes were fighting about this time.

"Why did I even let you convince me to take in that freak?" The father groaned, Carl, I think his name was.

"I didn't hear you argue when we went to adopt the fucker." The mother was...Sasha? I never really paid attention to people I didn't care about.

So they were talking about me again, figures, I've been the highlight of their conversation for a long time now. Not that I cared or anything, I've been the topic of most conversations between the parents and the agents who took kids to the foster homes, but instead of worrying about the shit I do, they should be worrying about the well-being of their own kid who is the Four Leaf Clover in a Poison Ivy bush.

"That's because the little shit looked normal then, how the fuck was I supposed to know that he was a monster?"

Technically I'm not a monster, well not fully, half a monster, a hybrid. . ? Whatever. Either way, that's one of the reasons I've been through so many homes, that and the bastards the agent people keep sending me to are complete assholes, been through three homes before this one, doesn't sound like a lot but it's the content that makes it feel like its been ages since you've seen the light of day.

The first family had a daughter that used cut herself cause her parents kept ignoring her so she thought that was the only way to get her attention, I managed to get her to stop for the few months I was there but I'm not sure if she still does it now. . .

The second family was a posh perfect family, living in a fancy home, having expensive shit and rubbing it in the 'lesser family's' face that they're better than them but not all picture perfect families are 'perfect'. Dad's cheating on his wife with a call-in whore, mom knows but can't imagine herself living with the lower class, she takes out her anger(idiotness) on her daughter, starving her to get the perfect daughter with an hourglass figure when she was perfectly fine the way she was. Her face would lit up when I snuck in a couple hamburgers for her, not sure if she still sneaks in a few greasy foods but she looked better before I left.

And the third family...well let's just say they deserved to die-

"Get back to bed you little shit, I can hear your loud ass breathing through the fucking door," Carl yelled.

I jumped and backed away from the door suddenly, tripping on nothing and falling backward, sending a sharp jolt up my spine when I fell. How dare he interrupt my narrating!!!!

"Well maybe if you weren't talking so fucking hard I wouldn't be up right now!" I retorted.

"I heard that, you little brat!" He said pounding against the door again.

"That's cause you have ears, fucker, you should use them more."

I guess he didn't hear that part cause he didn't do anything after that. Charlie was up now and he was rubbing his eyes, looking at me with eyes sagging with concern and sleepiness.