Shadows Ablaze

Chapter 1- Jaxon

Nothing is safe from the rain. That's the lesson everyone learns at a young age. So, when I wake to the sound of pattering against the shingles, I'm tempted to fall back to sleep the way most of the other boys at the orphanage have.

But I can't do that today. Because today is the day I take my first step in getting out of this crumbling, lame excuse for a facility. My fate will be my own. Not the people who own this building. Not the people who dictate my decisions. And certainly not the people who gave me up at birth.

Today this is about me.

As if the building can hear my spite, the floors creak and shift beneath my feet. I know it's probably just the wind, but I have to hold back a chuckle at the timing. A voice slithers down the hall, soft but distinct against the sleeping house.

"Your room is up the stairs and to the right," the headmaster's stark tone says.

That's my room... guess we have a new brother. I shrug. It's nothing new, people slink in and out of this place all the time. The kids come in as lost puppies, scared and cowering against a scrutinizing stare and they leave as ghosts, their eyes fogged over, their motions slow. That is, if they don't go out of their minds first.

The older ones are usually the first to go crazy and judging by the body that slips out of the headmaster's door, I'm going to guess he'll be next. His lanky frame throws a shadow across the hall, making him appear taller in the small space. I jerk my chin skyward in greeting, making eye contact with him as I pass. He doesn't reciprocate the action, only stares at me through large eyes before sweeping down the passageway and up the wooden stairs.

I toss my head from side to side. He won't be here long. Not if he already looks like that. Poor guy.

I enter the foyer, standing as I listen to the rain. A chill runs down my spine before I lift the hood of my jacket, slide on my waterproof gloves, yank up my face cover and step out into the downpour. I trek down the sidewalk, moving faster than I usually do. The longer I'm outside, the more likely it is that I'll get caught or that the rain will find its way to my skin.

After all, it's forbidden to go outside during a storm. Not just for the kids here at Justice Haven Home for Boys, but for everyone. Rain is toxic. It has been for the past century.

Our ancestors were cruel to this world, dumping oils and waste into the sea, as if the waters would scrub away the sin without any repercussion. But acts like that cannot be ignored. With every cloud of pollution leaked into the air, our world grew weaker. And eventually, it couldn't stop the rain from being toxic or the oxygen from growing thin. Humans did this, and now—generations later—we're paying the price.

If the authorities catch you out during a storm—not that they ever would since they stay safe inside too—there is a heavy fine and possible jail time. I laugh, mocking the fine. I'd like to see them squeeze that kind of money out of me. Even the clothes I wear aren't mine. I have nothing because my parents left me with nothing. They dumped me at the doorstep and whisked away to find their happily ever after without me. That's fine, I don't need them anyway. I don't need anyone.

The puddles splash beneath my rain-boots, sending drops into the air. I flinch, hoping it doesn't get into my boot. Not that it would, I'm covered head to toe in waterproof—and acid proof—material.

I round the corner of the next block and come to a stop at a thick metal door with a rusted handle. My knuckles collide with it three times, creating a loud thud that seems to ricochet off the exteriors of the buildings. I cringe, desperately hoping there are no officers out patrolling. They would have heard that.

My heart sprints in my chest, growing faster with every passing second. Finally, the door cracks open as a pair of pale blue eyes shine through the darkness. They look me up and down before expanding the opening and letting me inside.