The Fire Over My Eyes

Chp 8 - Don't look back

(A/N: Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck-)

(Bold – the memory

Italics – thoughts outside of the memory

Italics and bold – Leo narrating his memories

Underline – subtitles

'Bold, italics and with the quotation marks – Leo's thoughts inside the memory).

Loki's POV

I watched the screen and felt a sense of sadness which was odd seeing as I don't know this 'Leo' personally.

"Let's hope those boys will keep Leo sane." Said Tiny- I mean Tony.

"I really don't like that owner..." Mumble Bruce.

Leo huffed and opened the door of the orphanage, he crept past the snoring man on the couch. He didn't bother to learn his name because when someone doesn't care about you why bother?

He sighed and trudged up the stairs, it had been a week since he had moved in and the only meal he has had in that time was some stale chips that Alex stole from the fat man's pantry. Leo also had 2 apples that were provided by the school when they saw he didn't have any lunch.

Leo opened the first door that he saw, not bothering to check if it was the one that lead to the room.

Mistake one.

He looked around the room only to cringe in disgust and freeze with fear.

The smell was rank.

On the ground there was a small figure, its chest was still and unmoving, there were maggots all around its- no his, still open eyes. Blood was all around his head, his chest looked ridged and broken.

Leo's eyes lingered back to the figure's eyes and he gasped.

Everyone in the room froze and there were a few noises of disgust.

"Oh god!" Shrieked Peter as he covered his eyes.

"Oh Fuck." Said Tony, and Steve didn't even try to tell him off for his language, because he looked just as disturbed.

Leo half slammed the door shut and leaned back against the door trying to keep his mind from wandering back to that image.

He knew who it was but he wished he didn't.

The body was Harry.

"Poor kid...." Mumbled Clint, though I could tell if he was talking about Leo or Harry. 

Breathing in fast pants he rushed to his room, vomit swelling up in the back of his throat but he swallowed it down.

Remembering where the home phone was, Leo crept to it and phoned the police.

"911 what is your emergency?" asked the police dispatcher in a gentle but stern tone.

"I-I found a-a dead body," Hiccupped Leo, "I-I-"

"Okay, I need you to calm down- breath for me, slowly." Coaxed the woman of the other side of the phone line.

Leo nodded and did as the woman said, "Where did you find it?"

"I-I the h-house-" Leo sobbed

"Do you know your address?" Asked the woman in a gentle manner.

"N-no but I-I know i-it is foster home. T-there is a broken c-car on the front lawn-"

"Okay kid, we are sending an officer to your location... What is your name?"

"I am L-Leo," Stuttered out the shaking boy,

"Well, Leo I need you to stay-" The phone was snatched out of his hand before the lady could finish.

Peter flinched back and squeaked in fright.

"Whaat are yoou doing booy!" slurred the owner of the foster home to Leo as he gripped his arm.

Leo winced, "I-I was-"

He was cut off by the owner raising his hand and bringing it down on Leo's face.

Silence. No one talked. It was very tense.

Leo fell to the floor as the fat pig dropped him.

"Daamn kidss..." he grumbled waddling off.

Leo held his breath trying to stop focusing on the pain radiating from his cheek. With shaking arms he pushed himself up on unsteady legs. Inhaling he stumbled to the room that he and to other boys slept.

"Where are the police...?" mumbled my brother.

Leo grabbed the plastic bag he came with and then started tying the sheet covers from the beds together, twisting them to make a long rope.

"Yes..." I mumbled and smiled with mischief.

Leo tightly tied it to the bedpost closest to the window and threw the rest of it out the window until it landed on the ground. Carefully he climbed down the makeshift rope and stepped onto the ground. Breathing shakily he made sure he still had his bag and as sirens fading into the surrounding areas...

He ran.

And he didn't look back.

I still feel guilty for running away from the foster home, leaving the others there on their own. Not being there to help them grieve their loss.

But I had to do this for myself.

I was all I had for a long time, I hoped I could meet some other people and find new friends.

Maybe even a family of my own...

The screen faded into black and I heard many sighs of relief.

Hopefully, he does find some goodness in the life that he has lived so far.

I look around the room, like I have found my family. Right here... Smiling I turned my attention back to the screen.