Liam's Story - Part Four

In his dream, Liam was walking down a narrow hallway, a soft glow peeping through the crack at the bottom of the door of the room at the very end. Liam was unsure of what was going on, of why he was there, but at the moment it didn't matter. What mattered was what was behind the door. A humming sound could soon be heard, muffled by the wooden door, and Liam found himself enchanted by it for some reason. It was familiar to him; he was sure he'd heard it before, somewhere, but he wasn't sure where or when. The woman's voice kept humming that sweet melody as he stepped closer to the mysterious door and the contents behind it.

The alarm clock woke him as his hand grasped the door knob. He rushed back to reality and his eyes snapped open as he lay in bed, gazing up at the white ceiling as his head gave a dull throb. Alertness seeped into him as the alarm clock sounded in his ear, forcing him to groan and slap at it. Unable to find the 'off' button, he sighed. "Alright," he grumbled to himself, rolling over to look at the alarm clock. "I'm up already." he found the 'off' button and pressed it, sentencing his room to utter silence, the only sounds available being the wind as it slammed against his window.

He sighed and rolled out of bed, gasping as pain shot through his body. He'd forgotten about the ribs, and now gripped his side tightly as he stumbled toward the bathroom. He looked in the mirror at his bandaging, and sighed heavily before he began unwrapping them. He pulled off his underwear and turned on the shower, slowly stepping in. The water slammed against him in a rush, and he caught his breath, for the water was cold. That was normal, of course; the orphanage usually didn't have hot water, and when it did, it went to the other, richer kids who had more of a chance of being adopted and accepted into society. Once he was finished, he turned the shower off and stepped out, wrapping a towel around his waist as he made his way over to the sink.

He frowned at his reflection in the mirror for a moment, before he grabbed his toothbrush and toothpaste and began brushing his teeth, the faucet releasing cold water into the sink. Once finished brushing his teeth and gargling the disgusting peppermint mouthwash, he grabbed his brush and left the bathroom, heading toward his dresser. He grabbed a pair of socks and some underwear, pulling the latter on before he walked over to his closet. He pulled out a plain faded gray shirt and a pair of faded blue jeans.

Easing the shirt over his head without moving too much, he rubbing at his ribcage thoughtfully for a moment, before he grabbed his pants and pulled them on, zipping them up. He took his brush and began tugging at his rats, wincing when his head gave a sharp pound. It was still tender and sore from what had happened yesterday, and he knew he would probably have a headache until he could get his hands on some aspirin.

He walked over to his bed and sat down, putting his socks on, before he got up and moved toward his shoes. Once those were on and tied, he started to move toward his bed to sit down for the remainder of the time he had left before he had to leave for the bus. A knocking at the door interupted him. He shot a look at it for a moment, deciding that maybe he should answer it, but he would be leaving his room in a minute, whoever it was could wait till them.

But if it was a bully, he didn't really want everyone to see him getting attacked. With a heavy sigh, he stalked closer to the door. 'Might as well get this over with,' he thought to himself as he opened the door.

Charles was standing there, a determined expression on his face. Liam blinked a few times. "Oh," he said. "It's you. Hi."

"You were expecting someone else?" Charles asked.

Liam shook his head. "Not really, no."

"Good. Then we can talk." he gestured at the interior of Liam's room. "May I?"

Liam stepped away from the door. "Sure. C'mon in."

Charles nodded and did just that. He sat down on the bed and waited for Liam to shut the door. Liam did so, and then moved closer to him, stopping a few feet away.

"What did you want to talk about?" he questioned.

"About yesterday," Charles answered.

Liam sighed. "Charles, really-"

"Why wouldn't you go?" Charles broke in.

"Because I didn't feel like it," Liam said. It was only a half-lie, after all. His ribs prevented him from doing much, and he didn't want the others to see what had happened. This was something that he would rather keep to himself, to prevent worry from his friends and making things all the worse.

"Don't give me that," scoffed Charles.

"Really," he said.

"Why can't you just tell me the truth? I'm your friend, you know."

"I know-"

"So why won't you tell me?"

"I did-" Liam tried.

"Liam," Charles sighed. "Please don't make this harder than it has to be. Just tell me what's bothering you."

"Nothing is bothering me," Liam said. "Seriously."

"You know I can tell when you're lying."

Liam sighed heavily. "Please, just leave this alone," he whispered, his head hung low. He was never one to argue with people and fight back; he liked to just get things over with and get on with life.

Charles frowned. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing-"

"Stop lying to me. Please, Liam. Just tell me what's bothering you."

Liam shook his head. "Please-" he was broken off as someone else knocked at the door. He glanced at the clock on the wall and puffed out a breath of relief. That would be Danny, probably, ready to go to school. He moved toward the door. "C'mon, let's go."

Charles sighed and followed after him. "Alright, but don't think this is over, Liam," he said as he and Liam exited the room.

Danny and Samuel were standing there. Liam looked back and forth between them, then said, "Chris and Evan at it again?"

Samuel nodded. "With Daisy, yeah. She keeps turning them down, but they just won't take the hint," he sighed and shook his head. "Total retards, those two."

"Couldn't agree more," Danny agreed with a smile.

Charles said nothing as they walked out to the bus stop. Liam could feel his eyes watching his every move, and made sure that he didn't give anything away that he was hurt. His head gave a sharp pound and he nearly winced, but caught himself before he could, stifling the reflex. He sighed beneath his breath as they stopped at the bus stop. The bus was coming within view, and would be here any moment.
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Liam walked into the receptionist's room, walking through to the hallway that led to Skimmer's office. He'd been called down in the middle of class, again, and couldn't help but wonder what for. The receptionist, Mrs. Bleech, stopped him before he could walk through to the hallway.

"Be careful, Liam," she said.

He frowned.

"It's not what you think," she explained in her quiet, raspy voice. She was a little old lady in her mid sixties, with white hair and light gray eyes. Her husband, Mr. A. Bleech, had had an accident a few months back, which left him bedridden with two broken legs. She was working triple shifts to keep him in the hospital, where he could be looked after 24/7.

Liam's frown deepened, before he walked through to the hallway and walked down it slowly. Voices carried through from Skimmer's office, both of them familiar. One was Skimmer. One was Ratchet. He shivered involuntarily as he inched closer.

"Get rid of him," Ratchet was yelling. He was actually yelling. Liam stopped a few feet from the door, listening. He knew he probably wouldn't like what he would hear, but he was to be down here, he couldn't just turn and go back to class. He wanted to see what he was getting himself into before he opened the door and went in.

"What? I should just throw him out into the streets? Is that it? Is that what you want?" Skimmer shouted.

"Yes!" Ratchet roared. "That's it exactly."

"Fine!" Skimmer shouted. Liam could tell by the tone of his voice that he was frustrated and annoyed with their conversation. "You want Liam out? I'll throw him out. Whatever."

Liam's eyes widened. He took a step back, his world coming to a crashing halt. No, Skimmer couldn't throw him out; he had nowhere else to go! This was his life; sure, it wasn't the best, but it was HIS. It was the only life he knew, Skimmer couldn't toss him out.

"Good," said Ratchet. "Thank you."

Skimmer said nothing.

"He's worthless, after all," Ratchet continued. "Right?"

"Yeah," Skimmer growled, his voice angry. "Worthless. Pathetic. Whatever. Get out of my office."

"Now, now, Skimmer, you know better than to act like that with the Superintendent."

"Whatever. Get out."

"Very well," Ratchet said. "My job here is done, anyway."

"Job?" Skimmer asked, confused. "What job?"

"I called Liam down a few moments ago. He would have been outside the door when you said he was pathetic." there was a smile in Ratchet's voice, Liam knew.

Liam bowed his head, his shoulders shaking slightly. Skimmer, the guy who had given him a home at the orphanage, the guy who had found him and brought him in, wanted him out. Just like Ratchet. It was a little too much to bear.

Skimmer gasped and hurried footsteps rushed to the door, before it was flung open. By the time Skimmer poked his head out, Liam was already running down the hall. "Liam! Come back!" Skimmer shouted. "I didn't mean it!"

Liam shook his head and disappeared into the receptionist's room, rushing through to the hallway that let to the lockers.

'Can't trust anyone,' he thought to himself. 'I can't believe I was thinking about trusting him. Just another foe.'

How was he going to stay in the orphanage? Was Skimmer really going to kick him out? Of course he was; he had said it. You didn't get to be principal for nothing, you had to keep your word. He had said Liam was out, therefore...

Liam was out.

Liam sighed and bowed his head. 'What's going to happen to me?' he thought. 'Where will I go?'

So many questions, so few answers.