Chapter 1

the first chapter

Conner was eleven years old when he came to the O'Rileys.

Eleven years old and yet his eyes held knowledge and suspicion beyond his years. He had a youthful face but those eyes gave him away. He wasn't your average eleven year old. If he was, he wouldn't feel such a sickening, anxious feeling in the pit of his stomach.

This was a very long car ride.

Today was an important day. Well, important was maybe a silly word to use. He was being placed again. Again. He wished he could tell himself he was hopeful, but it was too hard to lie to yourself. He didn't understand how the system worked, because none of these homes ever actually wanted him there, and he had no idea how it seemed like such a good plan to send him around. He was ten when this moving around started. Ten when someone finally believed what had been done to him and got him out of the shithole called home.

He had to admit that some of the homes since then had been improvements. Some of these people pretended to have patience, pretended to want him there. Some of them had other kids. That was still better than the group homes. Although the group home was starting to feel familiar.
He rolled up his sleeve and eyed the huge bruise on his arm. It was pretty new and he wondered how long it would take, and how many colors it would turn, until it faded and went away. The one on his back was worse anyway.

He began to think about the day again and once more his stomach filled with dread. That was a terrible feeling and there was nothing to make it go away.
were almost there. He started to focus more on the houses in this neighborhood. It could be any one of these.

"Conner. Are you listening to me?" Anthony turned off the radio and looked over at Conner. He sighed and shook his head. "Listen to me, this is important. You want this to be your permanent home, don't you?"

Permanent? Conner looked at him, brow furrowed. He'd started to believe that word had no purpose in his vocabulary.

"Well, there's a chance if you actually behave yourself," the man replied. "So for once, how about you try your manners, respect your new home, and think before you answer people."

Conner zoned out as the man continued. Be polite, be courteous, all that s**t. Yeah, yeah. Of course. As though these simple suggestions would have been saving graces in his other situations. Still, it was hard to go into things with open arms. He had no idea what to expect, and therefore couldn't very well prepare himself.

"And for God's sake, will you roll down your sleeves, Conner? No one wants to see that. Don't immediately show them what a roughhousing klutz you are."

Roughhousing klutz? Yeah, so the last place hadn't worked out because he was a klutz, right? Conner mumbled under his breath but it was barely words, even to him.

"I never know if you're listening to me," Anthony persisted.

"Do you have a cigarette?" Conner asked. Anthony glared at him. "No. And for God's sake, you are not making a habit of smoking. Not now, you aren't. You're eleven."
No smoking now? Conner would admit it wasn't something he'd tried very long ago, but it was something he felt he definitely felt relaxed doing. And the common response, that he was eleven years old, was not a good enough objection. Because, hell, there were a lot of things that as a eleven year old people shouldn't have done with him.

"I do not want any phone calls," Anthony was saying. He was slowing down now; they had to be close. "I want you on your best behavior. And when your brothers-"

"I don't have any brothers."

"Your new brothers.""What new brothers?"

Anthony grunted. "You haven't been listening to me at all, have you, Conner? Jesus. You're off to a great start already, aren't you? Look, Judy is one of the best. You need to believe me. This is perfect for you. Do not mess it up."

Conner swallowed. They car had stopped. He suddenly felt frozen in his seat. He looked at the house they were in front of and it looked pretty normal, though he knew not to judge a book by its cover. He didn't know what was inside.

"Does�"

Anthony looked at Conner. The boy had gotten a little pale. "What, Conner?"

"Does she have a husband or anything?"

"No, Conner. Just two boys with her right now."

Conner nodded.

"You ready?"

Conner didn't answer.

"Let's go." Anthony opened his door, yet the boy made no move. With a sigh, Anthony simply reached over to undo the boy's seatbelt. Suddenly took Conner a deep breath and stiffened as the man's hand roughly undid the belt. He ground his teeth together. "Say hello to your new home," Anthony persisted.

Suddenly Conner yearned to be eighteen. He believed that was the magic number. Freedom. No more being shipped around. No more Anthony shipping him around and giving him that long look of disappointment when he came back.

Anthony looked at his watch. Five o'clock. It was getting dark. He told Judy he would be there by four. They were already late, and he looked intently at Conner . He knew the kid was nervous but enough was enough. He knew the routine. "Conner, I'll get your suitcase. Come on. I don't have patience for this."Slowly, Conner got out of the car, watching Anthony grab his small suitcase from the backseat. He looked at the house again and scowled. This didn't feel like a good idea suddenly.

"Get that look off your face. It's time to make a good impression," Anthony persisted. "We should have gotten you a haircut too, huh?"

Anthony was already walking towards the house. Conner looked around and wondered what would happen if he just started to run away. He wasn't sure where he would go though. Or what kind of neighborhood this was. He'd have no where to sleep, and it would be a late start.

"Conner!"
Startled, Conner looked up. Anthony was almost at the front porch. He looked like he was losing patience too. Conner swallowed and slowly obeyed, more afraid of running from Anthony than following him to the house.

Anthony was already ringing the doorbell.

Author's Note

Tell me what you think!