Before The Lions; Voltron Prequel FanFiction

Chapter 2- Keith's

"I don't have one"
Keith's Chapter (1)
‪March 3rd
Year: 2050

Written By: AoT_Trasssssh
Edited By:
NoxTikaani
Words: 978

Keith's Point of View

"My name is Keith Kogane. I am currently 13 years of age," I spoke to the couple in front of me. This happened every so often. Couples would come in. Pretend to have interest in me. They then adopt some other kid. Completely forgetting about me. Never batting an eye.

My mom left when I was born, and my dad died in a fire 3 years ago. They kept telling him not to go into the fire. But he did.

"So what kinda hobbies do you have?" The mother asked me. She had brown curly hair, pale skin, and blue eyes.

"I like to read," I shrugged, glancing down to my lap. Trying not to look at them.

"Oh... Anything else? Like sports? Art?" The father said. He had blond hair, and green eyes. He was graying a bit, and had a wrinkled face.

"No, I don't really do much." I replied, still not looking at them. I heard a small 'hm', and them shuffling around.

"Well, we will think about you, can we talk to your Orphan Mother?"

"I don't care." And with that I left the room.

"Oh Keith! How'd it go?" Miss Anya asked me. She is my Orphan mother, she runs the Orphanage.

"Fine I guess." I said, walking past her and up the wooden stairs.

I was being truthful... I just didn't put in the effort to sound like I was being truthful.

I don't care for sports. I like art, just cramps my hand. Politics are a bore. I just like reading. It's fun and informative.

Good Books are:

"Dear Evan Hansen" By Val Emmich.

"Griffin's Castle" By Jenny Nimmo

"Wild Rescuers: Guardians of the Taiga" And it's sequels, By Stacy Hinojosa

"Be More Chill" By Ned Vizzini

"Wonder" By R. J. Palacio

That's just a few I like. I don't own many things. Mainly just books. Then a knife. I got it from my dad. My Orphan mother, Miss Anya, was against it. But I continued to keep it.

I finally reached my room, and opened the door. It was a small room. A bed, and closet, a small bookshelf, and a night stand.

I flicked on the light to see the black sheets. I closed the door behind me, and immediately opened my closet door, to find the small bookshelf I keep my books on.

What? What else would I keep there? And people call me weird.

Speaking of people calling me weird...

They do. The kids in my school call me weird. The kids don't like me there. I don't like them. Simple as that.

James. He's a jerk.

Always talking about me behind my back. Picking on me. The usual.

I remember one time. It kinda involved him. But it wasn't him that started it, nor him that actually got involved.

It was my teacher, Mrs. White. She never liked me. I guess this one instance set her off the edge. After I had told Miss. Anya, she was on the phone with the school for hours.

I was 9? Maybe? I think I was in the 4th Grade. It was before Christmas, and we were doing arts and crafts in our classroom.

We were making cards and gifts for our family.

I didn't know what to make. I didn't know who to make it for. I had no one. My dad was gone. I was orphaned. Simple. So I just sat there, not knowing what to do.

"Keith? Where's your craft?"

"I didn't make one."

"But everyone else has! So, Keith? What's your excuse?"

"I just have-"

"Just what? Look at James! He has created two things for his family! Why can't you be more like hi-" She cut herself off. Retreating her words. Her face went a deep red. Other students stared at her.

"I, don't have a family..." I said, replying to her need for an eccuse. Her face went even darker to beetroot red. She looked livid. She turned away from me, striding to her desk. The rest of the day no one talk to me, and the classroom was quite.

When I got back to the orphanage, I told Miss. Anya. She was on the phone for hours after that. She even had multiple meetings with the school during Christmas break.

After Christmas break, Mrs. White didn't come back to school. She was replaced by Mr. Brocko. The other students loved Mrs. White, but hated Mr. Brocko. They blamed me, and every time they'd get in trouble, for things like copying homework, I'd get blamed. It never made and sense. So I just ignored them.

So then I had discipline issues? I don't remember doing anything wrong. Just sitting there.

Mrs. White never liked me. Which is a shame, I had always looked up to her. Before that, she was my favorite teacher.

"Keith?" It was Miss. Anya. She was standing outside my closet.

"Yeah?" I looked at her. She wore a long purple skirt, and a dark green turtleneck. She had long grey hair, which I think used to be black, but over the ages it lost its color.

"Can we talk? I want know what's going on?" She asked. She had a hint of worry in her old, frail voice.

"Nothing is." I replied. I had no Idea what she was talking about.

"Keith, please," She raised her voice a bit, "You know what I'm talking about!" She was on the verge of tears. I didn't know what to do. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

______

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