A new chance

The orphanage

It was a sunny day today.
Kids were playing and laughing in the backyard of the orphanage, some older ones were in the common room, watching TV. Other friend groups met up in their rooms to play games the smaller kids shouldn't know about, like Truth or Dare or Cards against humanity.

The caretakers of the orphanage were sometimes checking on them, but since the younger kids needed more attention they were mainly in the backyard.

There was just one little boy, sitting alone in his room. He was reading a big book. Other kids his age probably wouldn't be able to read all of it alone, especially not in the short amount of time he did. The kid loved doing quiet activities. Like drawing or reading. The things that would get him into a different world and where he could let his fantasies flow. The boy would often draw characters or places from the books he was reading. With five years of practice he was unbelievably good at it, especially for his young age. He could draw realistic (even though he had to train that way more), comic and Manga stile. But he preferred the last two, it was easier. He started reading when he was five. It was shortly after learning the alphabet, that you couldn't get him away from books. He started small, like everyone else. But since he read with such passion, the boy quickly got more and more knowledge about words and started reading bigger and thicker books.

And right now, he just ended a trilogy. The caretakers of the orphanage started giving him their own books to read, since they hadn't had the money to keep buying books for him.

The boy put the book away and started drawing the prince of the story with his pencil. He enjoyed it. Everything in his room was calm and quiet. Nothing loud that could scare him, nobody that would tease him. Just he and his own world.
The boy smiled slightly. Something he never did when others were around.

The caretakers knew he didn't like to be around others so they gave him a room of his own. Many other kids didn't like him because they thought the adults favoured him. But they didn't. They just knew about his past and knew that he needed it more than the others.

The boy walked around his room for a little before stopping at his window. He had a perfect view over the playground. Everyone seemed so happy. Kids were playing, some teenagers helped the caretakers and played with the kids, like big siblings would do. Like they were all one big family.

The boy sighed. It was almost dinner time. He didn't like dinner time. Dinner time meant people. He didn't like people. People were hurting others. People were hurting him.
But he had to eat. That's why he obeyed when a caretaker, a brunette woman in a nice grey dress, opened his door and said "Damien, it's time for dinner"