Mitch's POV

It was finally the final lesson of the day. My back was aching, my legs felt like they were simultaneously on fire and numb, and the rest of my body was about to collapse from exhaustion. As it turns out, that open evening when me and my family toured the school didn't help out one single bit. I got lost finding my way to every single lesson, making me end up being twenty minutes late to each one, and the only thing I could find during the lunch breaks were the bathrooms. Sure, they were a lot cleaner than I expected them to be, but spending the entire forty minutes in one of the stalls, eating the lunch that Rio had packed for me wasn't that fun. The only lesson that I enjoyed today was homeroom. As it turns out, I did have that Drama teacher. His name was Dave. I found it amazing that we could call him by his first name rather than something else. He was probably the best teacher in the entire school. Sure, the teachers I had today were good. Well, at least they didn't shout at me for being late, and they taught well. I understood most of the stuff they were saying. There was something about Dave that just...it just made me comfortable. He seemed more of a friend than a teacher. Hopefully he would have the same attitude in Drama. That was the only classroom I actually knew the location of. It was in the basement of the school for some weird reason. I guess it meant that nobody in the other classrooms could hear the sound of the students talking loudly and stuff. Still, even though I knew that there were classrooms down there, when I reached the stairs and led to the basement floor, I couldn't help but worry that I would get told off. They just seemed so creepy!  

I looked down the stairwell. It had lighting, yet, in a way, it made it look even worse. It was so freaking scary. It looked like the stairs that led into the ice closet back at my old house. Was there some sort of ice closet down here? What if there was no such thing as a drama room? What if I got tricked into coming down here? No...What was I saying? Of course I wasn't getting tricked. It just looked spooky and that was it. I wished I could be less scared of every single stupid thing. When October came around, Drama class was probably going to become my worst nightmare. We would probably be forced into doing scary plays and watching horror movies to get us into 'the Halloween spirit'. I remember the time that I was forced to watch a horror movie at my old house. It was basically about this weird puppet guy who went around putting people into these weird, inhumane traps that ripped parts of their body off. I hated it. I threw up halfway through it yet the people there told me that vomiting was a bad thing, so I got punished for it. I had to spent four hours in the ice closet followed by a boiling hot bath where I had to get my hair washed, and after that I wasn't allowed to eat anything. Out of all of the punishments I received, that was one of the most tame. Hopefully, if I ever felt like I could talk in front of the people here, I would be able to good ideas of potential torture scenes for plays. If that did happen, then I wonder how I would bring up the fact that I was abused in that way...Yeah, that probably wasn't a good idea. I would probably be called an attention seeker or something.

As I walked down the spiral-like staircase, the sound of loud talking mixed in with laughter started to become more and more noticeable. After walking down for what seemed like hours, I eventually found myself standing, still on the stairs, in the top corner of a massive room. The basement. All of the kids that were in my homeroom group this morning were running to each of the walls of the room while the teacher, along with some other students who were also in my group, were throwing balls at them. From what I could see, whenever a student got hit with a ball, they were out. It was like a weird game of dodge ball. It looked like my worst nightmare. Sighing, I started to walk down the stairs to the floor. It was at that moment when a student, an actual person, came rushing past me. They weren't on the stairs, though. They were sliding down the pole that was in the middle of the stairs. I flinched backwards. Did they fall? Were they alright? I felt my tail-bone bash against the top of the railing that were on either side of the stairs and, at the very same time, I felt my legs fly upwards. Was I about to fall? Why was that student going down that pole in the first place? Is that what most people did here? I felt my legs rise higher while the rest of my body fell backwards. No...Was I going to end up dying on my first day? I wanted to let myself fall so, once I hit the ground, I would die instantly. In a way I didn't want to struggle against me falling. Knowing how weak I was, I was probably going to be in a crap load of pain before I hit the ground. How was I going to get out of this one? 

All of the blood in my body, suddenly, rushed towards my head. My knees came up to my chin as I could no longer feel the railing pressing up against me. I felt the sensation of falling. This was it. I was about to die. I was about to freaking die! I would forever be known as the 'kid who died on their first day'. Great. That's what I wanted to be known as...Totally. I felt something soft press onto my back, quickly followed by my legs and head. I felt a jolt rush through my neck. It made my entire neck scream out in pain. I knew it wasn't serious, though. It was only whiplash. I had it tons of times before back at my old house. When I was around six or seven they would resort of shaking me until I was begging them to stop. Whiplash didn't really affect me any more. I placed my hands flat onto the ground and pushed myself upwards. Was I alive? I looked down at the area surrounding me. I had landed right onto a stack of mattresses. Why was there a stack of mattresses in a drama room? Well, I wasn't going to complain. They saved my freaking life! I was about to push myself off from them when Dave gently pushed me down onto them again. Did he think that I was hurt? I mean, I did feel my neck snap backwards, but I felt perfectly fine. The only thing that kinda hurt was my neck, yet it was a kind of pain that I was so used to that it just felt the same as a gentle bump in the street or something. 

"Mitch! Mitch, are you alright? Mitch?" He...He was signing it out. Did he know sign language? That was what he was saying...Did he know he was saying that? Ugh, of course he knew what he was saying. How did he know sign language, though? It seemed crazy! If only I knew that he knew sign language earlier, so I could communicate with him through that way this morning! How long had he known sign language for? Had he known it all of his life, like me? I slowly nodded, not wanting to move my head. Although the mattresses cushioned my fall, and I was used to getting whiplash, I still felt nervous about moving my head too much in case I damaged it even more or something. 

"I-I'm good...Don't worry...I-I'm fine. T-Thanks for caring, though." I signed that back at him and, luckily, he seemed to understand what I was saying. He must know a wide range of language... I pushed myself up, ran my fingers through my hair, and placed my feet onto the thin, carpeted floor. I got up and brushed myself down. The fall had caused my belt to, somehow, get untied, and make my top wrap itself around my stomach at least three times. Great. This was the perfect way to introduce myself into my class...I literally fell from the top of the ceiling. If it weren't for those mattresses, I would be dead right now. God...I could be dead. Gone. Forever...The thought of that alone terrified me. The thought of how easily I could die in here scared me. I hoped the rest of the hour and half that I had left went well...I mean, it would probably go by rather smoothly. The only thing I didn't want to really do is be treated as if I was five years old. Everybody in this room now knew that I used sign language, and I didn't want to be put down because of it.

Scott's POV

I stared up at the ceiling, the knotting sensation growing in my stomach with each passing second. My mind was filled up with worry over Mitch. I was so scared that today hadn't been good for him. I was worried that today had been one of the worst days in his entire life. I don't know why, but that's what I thought. I couldn't help but think that. There were bound to be cruel, cruel students at that school that would, most likely, abuse him or bully him. I didn't want that. All I wanted was for him to finally have a somewhat happy life after the hell he's endured for the first bit of his life. Sure, I knew I wouldn't be able to keep him away from feeling sad all of the time, but I was going to do my best to protect him from the worst things in life. I sat up, ran my fingers through my hair, and started to make my way into the living room. I walk right over to the window and peek out. He wasn't there. God, I hope he wasn't lost. I hope he wasn't wandering the streets, confused, cold, and soaking wet. Well, it wasn't exactly raining, yet the clouds were a dark black colour. It was bound to start pouring down at any second. I wasn't really looking forward to it if I was being honest. I stepped away, pulled out my phone, and looked at the time. It had been a full thirty minutes since school ended. He had to be coming home soon, right? Surely he had to be coming home soon. He had to be walking down the street...Surely he wasn't lost. 

I moved away from the window and started to walk towards the kitchen. I don't know why. The first thing I did when I got there was lean up against one of the counters, close my eyes, and count to ten. I kept on counting and counting and counting. I got to hundred. Two hundred. Three hundred. Four hundred. There still was no knock at the door. There was no nothing. I checked my phone again. Only six minutes had passed since I last checked it. It felt like forever...It really did feel like forever. Oh, why wasn't he home yet? What had happened to him? Was he safe? Was he alive? What the heck happened to him? What was taking him so long? I wished I brought him a phone of some sort so that I could call him and see what was taking him so long. What could be taking him so long to get home? Think...Maybe his final lesson overran. Yeah, that would seem like a logical thing that would happen. He could also be walking home with a potential friend. If that was the case then why would I be mad? I would be overjoyed with the fact that he actually made a new friend on his first day. Yeah...that could happen. I needed to stop freaking out. I'm sure that he would be perfectly fine. I worried way to much. The school was quite far away from this apartment, and maybe Mitch was one of those people who walked slowly. He was fine! He might be alone, he was probably let out on time, but he might just be walking slowly...He was going to be perfectly fine. 

There was a sudden clap of thunder outside followed by the all too familiar downpour sound of rain. I pushed myself off from the counter, ran down the hallway, dashed into the living room, and opened the door that led to the balcony. The window that I looked out of had a wooden door next to it that led to a balcony. Despite the fact that the rain was coming down in sheets, I stepped outside and leaned over the frame of it. At first, I couldn't see a single thing. Then I saw a small shadow, mixed within the dullness of the air, walking along the path that led to the front door of this place. Was that him? Was that Mitch? I squinted my eyes and tried to get a better look of this person. They were wearing a rucksack, wearing similar clothes to what Mitch was wearing, and they were staring down at the floor. It had to be him. It had to be! Another clap of thunder sounded. The figure flinched, placed his hands over their head, and started to run. It had to be him. There was no other way that it wasn't. I ran back inside, grabbed the blanket from the corner of the room, grabbed a towel from the bathroom, placed those two things onto his bed, and started to prepare some hot chocolate. I poured some cocoa powder into a mug, turned the kettle on, and brought out the whipped cream. The second that I closed the fridge I heard a timid knock at the door. My entire body relaxed. It was him. He was safe. He was alive. He was finally home. 

I opened the front door and looked out. A soaking wet Mitch stood there, shivering, with his arms crossed over his chest. I knew that I should have picked him up. Rio didn't take the car to work, as he walked today, so I had the chance to pick him up by car if I wanted to. Yet my stupid self thought that he would be fine walking home alone. Why did I think that? Any parent would pick their child up on the first day of school! Especially when the skies looked the same colour as coals. A bright flash of lightening sparked in the sky, making the small, courtyard-like area that was outside of this apartment, as well as many others, fill up with temporary light. He flinched back, holding his hands out behind him as if he was about to fall. The poor thing must be terrified of lightening. I wouldn't blame him to be honest. After the stuff that he must've endured during his lifetime, he was probably scared of most things that could be potentially harmful to him. Who could blame him for that? He lifted his head, made eye contact with me, and signed out that he was sorry. I gently held onto his wrist, pulled him into the apartment, and shut the door behind him. He took his shoes off, put down his bag, and stayed still. 

"You must be freezing. Come on, go and change into something that isn't as wet. There's a towel, as well as a blanket it if you need it. Do you need anything else?" He shook his head. His soaking wet hair made small droplets of water go flying all over the walls. When his head came to a halt again I could see that his shaking was starting to get stronger. "Okay, see you in a minute, then." He jogged into his room, shut the door, and fell silent. I couldn't help but, when I walked past it, to press my ear against the wood to see if he was alright. The only two things that I could hear was the sound of fabric's rubbing against each other and the sound of sneezing. Ugh, knowing how cold it looked out there, he was probably going to catch the flu or something. I sighed underneath my breath, walked into the kitchen, finished making the drink, and walked back over to his door again. There was only the sound of his breathing now. I knocked on the door with my free hand, took a step back, and waited for a response. "Make the same sound twice if I could come in." That seemed like a logical thing, right? At least I wasn't asking him to talk. He could knock on the wall two times as a noise rather than making a sound with his mouth. 

There was a slight pause followed by the sound of two claps. I opened the door and peered in. Mitch was sitting by his desk, writing something in his diary. I wonder how long it would take for him to finish the entire book. It looked like it was years and years old. I walked over to him, set the cup down in front of the book, and patted his shoulder. He mumbled a thanks, looked up at me, and smiled. It was a genuine one. Apart from the downpour of rain, it seemed like his day went better than expected. There were no new physical marks on him, so that was a good thing. It meant that people didn't abuse him physically. Sure, I did notice some awful scars during his first night here...When he dislocated his shoulder in the bathroom and we had to put him into the bathtub to minimise the pain of it all, I noticed that there were a bunch of cuts, bruises, and scars covering his chest and the top of his stomach. I still didn't want to know how all of those marks got there. How could you do that to a child, though? How could you do such awful things to a kid? It was awful...No wonder why he was afraid of talking to people. He was probably worried that he would mess up one of his sentences and end up getting hit or whipped or whatever kind of punishment they did in that place. I was kinda dreading the day when he had a sports lesson and had to get changed in the locker rooms. It wasn't just the smell of teenage boys that  would make it horrific, it was the fact that he would be surrounded by tons of people in his year who would, most likely, get a glance at all of those scars. He would obviously get questions left, right, and centre about those. I wonder if he would tell the truth or just lie to get away with it.

"What are you writing?" He looked back down at his diary, carefully placed the pen onto the table, and sighed underneath his breath. I could see that tears were starting to well up within his eyes. Was he about to cry? "A-Are you crying?" He slammed the book shut, shook his head, and ran into the bathroom. I heard the sound of his choked up wails. What...What the heck just happened? Did something bad happen today? Why was he acting this way? What the heck was going on? I stood there for a few moments, shocked by what just happened, before slowly making my way out of the room and towards the bathroom. The wailing got even louder. What was he crying about? I gently knocked on the door and waited. After a few seconds there was the sound of two...slaps. It sounded like he was kicking the side of the bathtub or something. I pushed open the door, walked in, and switched on the light. Mitch was sitting, with his back pressed up against the wall, sobbing his eyes out. He was upset alright...I had to help him. I jogged back into his room, grabbed the blanket off from the bed, walked back into the bathroom, and managed to wrap it around his shivering, slightly damp shoulders.  He buried his face into my shoulder and, from the sounds of it, tried to calm himself down by holding his breath. This, of course, gave him a bad case of the hiccups. "Do you want some water?" He shook his head. "Do you want to tell me why you're upset?" He paused before nodding. 

"I-I miss my friends...B-Blank especially. It-it's stupid but...but I had a small crush on here. Clara was more like my sister. She was the one that taught me s-sign language and, well, brought me up when the staff couldn't. She brought food to me when I wasn't being fed, she brought water to be when I was denied a drink, she brought me into the bathrooms at the dead of night so that I could clean myself up. She...she protected me. When I was around nine, Blank moved in. She was two years older than me, and...and I always had a crush on her ever since the day that we met. I just miss them both so much...I hate myself! I hate myself for having a crush on somebody who I don't have a chance with..." I was shocked at the amount of talking that he was doing, yet at the same time I felt sorry for him. I knew that having a crush on somebody who you would possibly never meet again, or have a chance with, was a horrific feeling. I had first-hand experience with it! When I first met Rio, I thought that we would never be a thing. Almost a full year later, we were dating and had our own child. 

"I know you miss them. I know...Don't worry, I'm sure that you will met her sooner or later. And, even if you don't, I'm sure that you will get a boyfriend or girlfriend or...or a partner of some other gender sooner or later. Honestly though, sometimes you will meet the love of your life in a random situation. I actually met Rio on my first day at work. I bet that you will find somebody who you connect with in this school." I pressed a kiss against the top of his head and pulled him back up to his feet. 

"T-Thanks...Thank you so much...F-For everything." He hugged me for two milliseconds before running back into his room. I couldn't help but smile. I loved him so much. He was my son, after all. 

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Hope You Enjoed!