and hoping they never exploded, but when I was twelve..."
He paused and gave me a conflicted word. "Maybe a little dark for you. You're only sixteen."
"I want to know," I whispered. "As long as it doesn't negatively impact you for sharing. I may be sixteen, but I know more than many think I do."
"Don't let this become nightmares for you, then." He playfully winked at me, trying to brighten the heaviness in the room. He looked away for a moment, his eyes staring at the fridge. I followed his gaze, wondering what the significance could be, but he enlightened me before I could ponder on it.
"My foster mom at the time was going through a nasty time with my foster dad. They didn't get along, but they remained together out of convenience. She wasn't in love with him, and he was always out gambling and such. When he did come home, he was usually wasted, and that abuse came down on me. I endured whatever came my way, but then he switched jobs, finding one that needed him to stay abroad for extended periods of time. That left my mom in an unsatisfied state, and instead of seeking men outside to please her, she decided I was worth the gamble."
My horrified expression made him look a bit regretful as he commented, "See? Not for the fate of the heart."
"T-That's not why I'm shocked. How could she...that's..."
"Disgusting? Immoral? Selfish? Life-changing for the twelve-year-old that's been through shit?" he offered. "Just another perspective of the system when you're something different. Now that I know exactly what I am, it kind of makes sense. People like us, with power beyond our control and knowledge, fall through the cracks and no one wants to deal with us. It's not because of our personalities in particular, but due to our unique differences. They purposely refuse to acknowledge our powers, and that’s what puts us in shitty situations. In my case, that woman knew what I was. She knew that I sought a place to call home and was tired of the abuse and multiple family changes. I’d honestly rather have been homeless than continue with paperwork, meetings, and constant change of rooms at the shelters that foster kids have to deal with, and she absolutely knew that."
He tugged on his collar slightly, showing a deep red wound that had healed oddly. He covered it just as quickly when my eyes registered its appearance, and he carried on.
"For a year, I was forced to live in the basement chained with a tight collar on my neck. I was only allowed to move it when my foster dad returned temporarily, and that woman would cover the bruise with makeup. She did crazy things to me, and I took it with a grain of salt. I didn't know any better, but it was psychological torture. I'd already given up on trying to figure out who I was, and more importantly, what I wanted to be. In my mind, my future was set and there was no escape."
He looked to his hands, and then a small smile formed on his lips.
"Then when I was thirteen, I made the erratic decision to give up."
Those red eyes of his lifted to meet mine, and I knew that look.
The despair of having no way out. The defeated feeling and loneliness that thickened with every second that passed when you couldn't think of a way out of your current circumstances.
All those quiet nights where my grandparents were asleep, but I was up, contemplating whether I should end it all that very night or try again to walk into the halls of a school where everyone mocked, teased, and treated me like I was worth nothing.
"There weren't any friends that I had to say goodbye to. No letters of regret or thanks. When the night came where she went out, it was my only chance to be free. To finish the deed I thought should have been done ages ago, but had been too afraid to complete. I ripped the collar off my neck. The damage was pretty severe in itself. I could have remained there and waited until I lost enough blood, but I didn't want to risk the chance of surviving, so that rainy night, I ran away as fast as I could. There was one building I knew I could have access to the roof, and that was the foster home building. It was extremely far from where I lived, and