The Three Brothers

Chapter One- The New Arrival

Boston stood silently taking in his surroundings as the gate swung slowly closed behind him, eventually shutting with a loud clang that sent vibrations running under his feet. He ignored that, however, and just stared ahead at the bleak building that he was now supposed to call school or even home. The dank atmosphere surrounding it gave off an unwelcoming stench of abandonment and neglect.

Boston sighed quietly to himself already looking around for chances of escape- he saw none. He was, by now, pretty certain that with the last clang of the gates went his last taste of freedom or even hope to escape- though he would never stop trying.

He needed to be back home, he had some... differences to sort out with his family back there. Family- he almost snorted at the word, but retained himself immediately, some family they had been. They didn't even have the right to be called a family, they'd lost it ever since his mother had picked that ba**ard over himself, kicking out a six year old to live with his alcohol ridden, abusive father.

Some mother...

Boston supposed that it was all her fault really, because if she had chosen him, none of the recent events that had got him landed in this place would have happened or maybe it was that ba**ard's fault. Draven. The devil. Whatever you want to call him. He had made his mother make that choice, forced her really.

'Me or him.'

Boston still felt the anger, as the familiar words entered his mind. Draven had never liked him- hated him really, well the feeling was mutual, but it still scarred Boston as he thought over the next words- well word- that his mother had said.

'You.'

That one damn word... three puny letters... the cause of all the events and hurt that Boston had experienced in his life. She didn't even hesitate, she didn't think it through and he was pushed away, booted to the bottom of the pile- as always. That word was imprinted in his mind now. It was all he could see when he closed his eyes, like a shadow lurking behind him, never too far away, reminding him that love and trust just gets you hurt. Every time he got close to someone it was there laughing at him, enjoying his discomfort and he hated it, almost as much as he hated his family.

A tug on Boston's arm, causing him to jolt forwards, brought him back to the present, as he was led towards the building. Boston reacted instinctively and jerked his hand quickly away, ready to defend himself against whoever had touched him. He hated being touched.

He glanced up, his mouth pulling back into a snarl as he attempted to yank his arm back ready to hit- however he didn't even get that far, as the handcuffs that bit down into his raw skin made him wince in pain and return his hands back to their normal position. So plan B- use his legs. He considered it but eventually deemed the idea useless and just jerked himself out of the two guard's- who were flanking either side of him- reaches. They probably did this stuff all the time and were prepared for that sort of thing. Boston knew that he would have to play it safe for now, so he returned his gaze back to the school building that was looming in front of him.

He hated school. If you had asked teachers at his last school what he was like, they would probably have said something along the lines of, 'When Mr. Boston ever graced us with his presence, we were delighted to witness the amount of stupidity and violence that one boy could own.'

But that wasn't true.

Despite all his pretenses Boston was not actually stupid, in fact he was really rather clever, some would go as far as saying an intellectual genius. Not that Boston even used his incredible brain for intellectual stuff, but more along the lines of criminal activity. For example, the teachers at Boston's old school were always amazed at the leniency the Head teacher allowed Boson and the fact that he was never expelled or even slightly punished for his numerous wrongs.