Hope For The Best

Donna came to pick me up the following morning. Donald was at work, she explained her individual arrival. It didn't take long to discharge me, and soon after her arrival we were already walking back to the car. My steps were hesitant, slow, careful. I wasn't too sure about the whole situation, things like this don't just happen, not to me anyway.
"Come, Boyd," Donna smiled. "It'll be okay. The boys are at school at the moment, they'll come home around 2, although I doubt Gerard will..." As she spoke of this Gerard, her voice faltered a bit and she seemed troubled, but whatever that had her worried, soon disappeared and she smiled again. "You can sit in the front."
"Thanks," I muttered and opened to car door. He sat inside.
"Hey, where is your stuff?" Donna suddenly asked.
"What stuff?" I asked.
"Your clothes and your personal belongings?"
"I don't have any."
"Oh right..." Donna said, suddenly regretting her words. "Of course. I'm sorry."
"That's okay."
We drove off. She asked me to fasten my seatbelt, which I had forgotten to do. It had been so long since I last stepped inside a car, well except those times when the cops got me, but I always ran away, outside the police station. I was sure they had a poster of me in the station, looking for me, just so they would be able to put me in a home for trouble and homeless teenagers. Ha! Not a chance.
"Why'd you decide to take me in?" I suddenly asked after a long silence, the curiosity having taken the better of me. Donna seemed awkward.
"We just wanted, you know, to help. When we found you outside, we already kind of figured out that you were homeless -- or at least something like that -- so after we took you to the hospital, Donald and I had a long talk, and we...yeah..." She smiled.
I didn't reply for a while, my mind was racing. Complete strangers taking me in, because they feel sorry for me. I didn't want their sympathy, but I didn't want to say no. A roof over my head, food to eat, a bed to sleep on. Who would say no to that after been living on the street? Not me, that's for sure.
We soon arrived at their house. It was big. Very big and fancy. The car came to a halt in the drive-way and we stepped outside. She showed me inside the house, which was quite beautiful, the interior showed such elegance, yet simplicity. It was awesome. I couldn't help but stare around with amazement, and Donna seemed to notice my look of interest for she laughed. "It's not all that fancy," she grinned.
"Your house is nice...very nice..." I managed.
"Thanks. Just make yourself at home -- this is your home now, if you still want to. I'll be in kitchen if you need anything." With that said, Donna left for what I presumed to be the kitchen.
I sat down on the couch. There was a magazine on the coffee table, a music magazine. I picked it up and flipped the pages. It was quite worn out and old, as if it had been read a lot. I stopped at a two-page article about the Misfits and I scanned the page.
"Everything okay?" Donna called from the kitchen after about ten minutes.
"Yeah," I called back. "Everything's fine."
I couldn't help but smile. Ever since the Ways came to visit me and told me they'd like to take me in, I had been waiting to wake up, thinking this must be a dream, something this good could never happen to me. I giggled quietly, not noticing the front door open.
"Who are you? What are you doing here?" a young-looking boy asked carefully, glasses etched on his nose. He wore a Misfit hoody, and grey jeans. Dropping his schoolbag, he slowly walked towards the kitchen without taking his eyes off me, in a way as if avoiding me.
"I --"
"Mum!" the boy called, ignoring me. "Mum, who's this dude?"
"Mikey, you're home. Don't worry. This is Boyd," Donna said, running out of the kitchen, greeting her son with a smile.
"Boyd...who?" Mikey said, a puzzled look etched on his strong face.
"The one your father and I talked about, remember?" Donna said, raising a brow.
"Oh yeah, that Boyd!" Mikey said, now walking over to me. "Hi, I'm Mikey!" Mikey's attitude was suddenly very friendly and he stuck his hand out, waiting for me to accept it.
"Erm, hi," I replied quietly, staring at his hand in suspicion.
"Don't worry, dude, I won't bite," Mikey said, grinning as he pushed his glasses further up his nose with his other hand.
I took his hand and he shook it.
"Where's Gerard?" Donna asked her son.
"Gee's...somewhere..." Mikey said slowly, avoiding his mother's gaze.
"Michael... Answer me, where's he gone off now?"
"He didn't say...just told me that he'd be home late tonight..." Mikey said, guiltily.
Donna shook her head and walked up the stairs. "Come with me, Boyd, I'll show you where you'll sleep."
"Catch ya later, dude," Mikey said, flashing me a grin. I nodded carefully into his direction, following Donna up the stairs.

It was well past midnight. I was wide awake. Donna had prepared a bed-place for me in the attic. The roof was slanted, making the space quite small, but I was just glad to have a roof over my head. I curled into a ball underneath the duvet which Donna had provided for me. I hadn't been able to sleep at all, I didn't feel like sleeping, even though my body strongly objected otherwise. I didn't want to fall asleep in fear of waking up and realising this was just a dream. But the last twenty-four hours, my way of thought was starting to change and I started to feel like I belonged. These people cared for me, they gave me shelter, a roof over my head and hot dinner. It felt nice. During dinner I hadn't had enough strength to speak, my voice was weak each time I was to answer a question. I had just closed my eyes as I was startled into a jump by a loud bang downstairs. I got up on my feet and crept towards the ladder, careful not to make a sound. I slowly tip-toed downstairs, into the dark, and nearly let out a startled shout as I bumped into something. When my eyes had adjusted to the dark well. I noticed a tall boy/teenager, around my age. I found the lightswitch and when the lights were on I could see him better. His hair reached the tip of shoulder and it was the color of pitch black. I couldn't see his eyes, for they were closed, but one thing was for sure, judging by violent swaying, he was very drunk. Boyd kept a good distance away, watching him. From pictures he had seen the previous day, this could be none other but Donna and Donald's older son, Gerard.
"Hey --" I said quietly.
Gerard whipped his head into my direction, scrunching his eyes in the bright light, his hand leaning on the wall for support.
"Whoorryou?" he slurped, holding a half-empty bottle in his other hand. The bottle slipped out of his grip and fell on the floor with a shatter. Shards of glass scattered over the floor and Gerard snorted. "Oops," he grinned and giggled. "My b-bad!"
"You okay?" I asked, avoiding the shards and pieces of glasses scattered all over the floor.
"Yeah I-hic-'m totally-hic- fine. What m-m-makes you think I'm n...not?"
"Well, you're completely assed...literally..." I grinned.
"Hey, I'm not an ass! Yourran ass!"
"I didn't say that, I meant, you're drunk."
"No shit, Sherlock!" Gerard said.
"I think you should get to bed, before you hurt yourself," I suggested as his body swayed dangerously back and forth.
"Who are you, my mother?" he sneered.
"No, I just -- sorry,"
"Whatever." He headed for the stairs, gripping the sides of the railway so he wouldn't topple over.
He seemed to have great deal of trouble getting up the stairs.
"Need help?" I asked slowly, trying to stifle back a laugh. He reminded me of a penguin, as he tried to make it all the way up, his body swaying in a humorous way.
"Nope. I can do it myself, thank you very much!"
"Suit yourself," I grinned slightly to myself, in attempt to stifle a yawn. I looked at the clock on the wall. It was two minutes to three. As I made my way up to the attic and after I lay down, it didn't take too long before I fell asleep.