The Truth About Never - Book One

Chapter One

Peter didn't have a last name, as far as he knew. Most of the orphans didn't. Peter was the tallest, smartest, strongest, oldest, and most handsome of all the orphans. He was their leader, their "older brother." And Peter liked this. He liked being in charge of all his friends. He liked how no one seemed to want to cross him. He'd been in the orphanage all his life, and according to Peter's world, there were no Kings or rulers or authority figures. There was just Peter.

Far along in the gloomy allies of London, there was an orphanage; the Davis Home for Boys. It loomed at the end of a darkening street where the occasional lamppost was the only source of light you could find. Many tried to avoid the building, for they'd heard the whispers about how the nuns treated the children, whispers about how it was cursed, for no one was ever adopted there. There was a cool, menacing air surrounding it, throwing anyone who got too close into a place of deep despair.

It was no better for the kids who lived there.

It was full of rambunctious kids, but their rowdiness was always covering up a less-happy emotion: misery.

Among these teenagers was a boy called Peter. Among Peter's best friends were Slightly, Nibs, Curly, and Tootles. But Peter was the real leader of them all.

"I wonder when they're going to find out," Slightly whispered from the dining table where all the boys sat to eat. The nuns were in the kitchen, preparing breakfast, while all the orphans sat at the table, bellies growling, feet pounding.

"Shut up, Slightly!" Nibs nudged him in the ribs. He had to practically shout to be heard over the noise of silverware clinking against plates, and his bright hazel eyes stared intently into the kitchen where the nuns were bustling about.

"They're going to figure it out soon. It's all those cows can eat in the morning," Peter whispered to his friends. The dining room had one long table, each boy squished next to the other on the benches surrounding it.

"Maybe we shouldn't have stolen the nun's chocolate, we'll get in so much trouble!" Tootles fretted.

"It's not fair they get to eat it all and we get scraps like mangy dogs!" Curly said, his eyes bulging. Peter could hear Curly's fat stomach growling beside him, snarling for some delicious food that would never come. His chubby hands reached for his fork and they tapped it impatiently.

While all the boys were laughing and throwing each other's dishes on the floor, a nun, Mother Hilda, came rushing in the room. Her hefty figure took up most of the small space. "Peter! Come with me at once!"

Tootles patted Peter's back encouragingly as he smirked, got up, and followed Mother Hilda into her office. It was a movement he had long since memorized; follow Mother Hilda into her office where she would yell and scorn him, and he'd continue to throw insults at her. Just another day at the orphanage.

"I know it was you and that gang of yours, Peter. Now tell me, where did you hide the food?" Her voice rose louder and louder with every word until Peter had to take a couple steps back. He always managed to get himself into trouble, and yet there was always a good reason.

"You mean the chocolate; the chocolate that you and the other nuns eat everyday like pigs?" Mother Hilda seemed to grow about five times her regular size, so her wicked grin and crooked nose were even larger than usual. Peter sneered at her, his confidence rising.

"Well then. I think you earned you and your friends dish duty."

"You just had to make fun of her..." Nibs mumbled while he scraped the leftover food off plates in the back of the kitchen. Peter, Nibs, Slightly, Curly, and Tootles were washing the dishes after breakfast as punishment. No one was happy about it of course, but they were too afraid to blame Peter.