"We share the same secrets as kids. And grow up to face the same fears as adults." -fw.
When Amelia May loses her father to cancer, she is forced to separate with her only sibling and move in with the McKays, a wealthy high-class family. She slowly...
"Thought I found a way. Thought I found a way out. But you never go away. So, I guess I gotta stay now.
Chapter Theme Song: 'Lovely' by Billie Eilish FT. Khalid.
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Third Person
Flashback
Ashton stood at the threshold to the school's entrance, watching the thick, icy droplets as they dot the earth. Tiny bulbs filled up the cemented pavement until they clustered together into one wet blotch. Soon, the schoolyard was slippery, bodies shielding themselves under umbrellas and jogging across the grounds to get to their vehicles. And Ashton, without a shelter of his own stood in his position and watched as the compound cleared out.
"Mama, it's raining." A thin voice, tiny and soft, sounded from the left of him. His head tilted in the direction as a boy, dressed in his kindergarten shirt and short blue pants gawked with intrigue at the foggy skies.
As though he'd sensed the older boy's perusal, the kid with his untidy hair and a mouth stained with red sauce angled his little neck in his direction.
Their gazes met for a brief second, and Ashton in an effort to make the little boy smile crossed his eyes in the middle and stuck his tongue out. The kindergartener only stared, his young, observant eyes sliding down to Ashton's feet. A pair of black worn-down shoes were on them, and his socks, dirty and thready peeked up from the old leathers that were wrinkled and ripped.
The boy, still gawking at Ashton with the same level of interest he did at the skies, blindly tapped his mother's hand. The woman with brown hair tied loosely in a bun peered down at her son as she struggled to open the umbrella she held.
"Mum, look at his shoes..." And he pointed. His guardian followed his small finger, and without looking up at who the shabby shoes belonged to gripped the boy's head and twisted it around.
"That's why you should pay attention in class. His parents didn't, that's why his shoes look like that." She gripped her son's hand and hauled him across the yard with the umbrella poised above both of their heads. The little boy glanced back at Ashton, a single eye connecting with his as he bumped against his mother's pant leg. Ashton waved and smiled at him, but the kid just turned away, head hung.
Bothered by what the lady had said, Ashton watched as she opened the door to her pretty big car, helping her son into the backseat before climbing into the driver's side and reversing out of the lot. Her tyres skidded along the wet ground, and soon her engine had faded down the street. Ashton was now left with the blast of thunder, occasional flashes of lightning, and the bitter voices in his head.
Just at the age of nine, he felt a strong resentment in his tiny heart. If only he had someone to pick him up in a car, if only he had a good pair of shoes then no one would have looked down on him. He stretched his hand out into the rain, allowing the spiky water to spot his arm. It was getting late, the school was empty now as most of the kids either had their umbrellas or had their parents come to pick them up. Erwin had warned him on several occasions that arriving home late would warrant a fine beating, and Ashton couldn't bear the wrath of his foster father's 'wire of doom.' Erwin had psychotically named the piece of wire he'd use to beat him, and he'd ensure to wet it before using it.
