The Dregs

Some Sixteenth

WYLANS POV:

Wylan woke to a sharp rap on his door. He let a groan and rolled over burying his head in his soft mattress and silky sheets. Wylan knew what day it was and that was the precise reason he so desperately wanted to remain in the safety his bed. Wylan had always hated his birthdays. He hated being the centre of attention. He hated having to open presents and exclaim that he liked them. He hated opening cards, pretending to read them when all he could see was a jumbling mess of lines, and then thanking the person whilst not having the slightest clue if they had written anything nice. When Wylan was opening cards, his father would always stand in the corner with a knowing smirk and a look of loathing and pity. 

The knock sounded again, this time louder. Wylan just lay in bed playing out all the miserable scenarios he could be put through that day. The door burst open and Jan Van Eck strode into the room and looked down at Wylan with poorly disguised contempt. Wylan had gotten used to his father looking at him that way, it barely bothered him anymore. Wylan could hardly remember the days when his father had loved him, it was before his mother had died and before 'his remarkable talent for stupidity,' as his father put it, had shown itself.

"Wake up, don't you know what day it is?" Jan Van Eck said with a sneer. 

"Yes," mumbled Wylan hurrying to pull on some clothes. 

"Come downstairs, I have a special surprise for you. This year's a big one, you're sixteen," his father said with barely suppressed glee.

Wylan looked suspiciously after his father, wondering what he could have possibly planned that would be worse than last year and made him that happy. Last year had been horrible, he had gotten a cake with several iced sentences upon it. His father had tried to get him to read it out loud, and when he couldn't, he'd been hit hard and sent to his room like a toddler. Later that night he had been forced to meet with several snotty girls all daughters of his father's rich friends. 

Wylan after combing his wild curls into submission trudged downstairs through the mansion. He found his father in the dining room muttering to a servant. A delicious breakfast for two had been laid out on the table and Wylan realised that he would have to eat with his father, alone. That was not a good sign. Jan Van Eck saw Wylan and gestured for him to sit, telling the servant girl to leave them. Second bad sign. Wylan hastily shoved food into his mouth before his father could start a conversation. 

"Well Wylan as I have said, I have something special planned for this year."

Wylan kept shovelling food into his mouth.

"You are going to move out."

Wylan promptly choked on his pancakes as he struggled for air. No wonder his father had been looking so pleased, all this time he had just been waiting to get rid of him now that the new baby was on its way. 

Jan Van Eck slid some papers across to him along with a pen, "these are the papers to relieve you from my care, please sign them so that I don't have to do it the hard way."

"W-where am I going to stay?"

He smiled cruelly, "in the city. Now sign it."

Wylan hesitated. He had no idea what he was signing, was it adoption papers? But who would want to adopt him?

"SIGN IT!" Jan Van Eck was getting angry now.

Wylan quivered terrified of what would happen if he did. There was no doubt he wanted to get away from his father, but he had nowhere to go and-

Wylan cried out as a hand connected with his face and he tumbled to the floor clutching his jaw.

"Don't you ever ignore me again," his father loomed over him, his voice was deadly calm and his gaze icy, "now get up and sign the damned paper."