I slam the door of my room and slide down against the door, tears welling in my eyes.
"Libby! Don't make me come up there!" a man yells from downstairs.
He's my... caretaker, I guess. My parents died in a mining accident two years ago, and I've been living in a home with a few other orphans since then.
I lock the door and flop down on my bed, staring at the ceiling as I wipe the tears from my face. Crying shows weakness, and that's not something I can do in front of that man.
"Time to eat!" someone yells from downstairs. I groan and get up, making sure my eyes aren't red before leaving.
I reach the table and sit down, adjusting my blue headphones and avoiding eye contact with everyone. The other kids sit and laugh noisily, but I don't join in. Two boys sit in the living room in silence, but I don't pay much attention to them. They got here about an hour ago just after their mom died and they haven't spoken since. I notice the Master glaring at me and avert my eyes from the two boys.
He hates me. Simple as that. I've never been able to figure out why I'm the enemy.
The cook comes around and serves us, laying steaming plates of juicy meat and fresh bread in front of all the other children, too much for any of them to actually finish. When my plate is placed in front of me, it looks like the scraps that were leftover.
"Is this all?" I ask quietly.
"There wasn't enough," the cook grumbles, avoiding my blue eyes.
"Do you want less? Eat what you have or you'll go to bed hungry!" the Master bellows as the cook hobbles back to the kitchen. The older of the two new boys watches me with a pitied look, though I don't understand why he would care.
I try to eat what's in front of me so I don't go to bed hungry, but everything tastes like sandpaper, old and dry.
"I'm finished," I mutter, standing up. "I won't eat anymore."
"Go to bed hungry, then," the Master shrugs.
I glare at him and stand up, pushing my chair away.
"Bye," I snap. The kids snicker and watch me leave. One of them takes a bite of meat and chews slowly, smugly. I want to punch him. But then again, he's ten and I'm only eight. If I tried to fight him I'd end up getting completely wrecked.
I march up to my room as loud as I can and slam the door, rattling the windowpanes in the process. I start singing loudly and obnoxiously, purposely trying to tick off the Master. If he isn't going to feed me well, then he isn't allowed to eat in peace.
A chair scrapes across the hardwood flooring and footsteps echo down the hall. Immediately, I stop singing.
"Libby..." he growls. I smirk at him and sit down on my bed. "Why are you singing?"
"No reason, Master," I reply, staring at him with the same cocky smirk on my face.
The Master snarls and stalks over to me, grabbing my face in his hands.
"Don't give me attitude, kid. I can make your life Hell."
"You already have," I retort.
The next thing I feel is a smack across the face. When I open my eyes, he's lowering his hand.
"I'm done with you. You will not leave your room for any reason. While you are here, I'll find some sorry family to take you," he says, leaning down next to my face. His breath smells like a mixture of mint toothpaste and meat, which makes me want to gag.
"Fine."
He leaves my room and locks it behind him. As soon as I hear his footsteps retreating downstairs, tears prick at the corners of my eyes.
Why did this have to happen to me?
I lie down on my bed and close my eyes, falling into a depressed sleep.
~~~~~
I wake up and look out the window, where the moon has risen and the stars are twinkling high above in the sky. As I stare through the glass, my stomach growls violently.
"I'm going to starve..." I mumble.
I search around my room for any food that I might have stored, but I have almost nothing except the diamond sword my Mother gave me as a birthday present the day before she and my father died.
"I need something..." I groan. After searching, I find an old pufferfish in my closet. They're pretty much poisonous, but they won't kill you.
Perfect.
I eat the fish and in a couple of seconds, my vision is swaying. My head spins, but it makes me forget and I feel slightly less hungry.
I fall onto my bed and pass out.
YOU ARE READING
Together as One: The Story of the Teams
FanfictionEveryone has lost something. A toy, a family member, maybe a home. For these kids, it's no different. They lost their homes. They've dealt with the pain of losing their families or identities. Now they must team up in order to survive and s...
