Chapter 2: 2 Adoption

Living in the slums is like falling into a pit of venomous snakes. The weak fall prey to the strong.

Mercilessly crawling over the other while making sure nobody bites your head off, establishing your position in the hive is the key.

After all, everyone has the same purpose - survival.

Conor learned this lesson early on in his life.

When he was only a few years old, what he called home was a rundown shack in the more shady areas of the abandoned slums. Clean water and a heated room at night remained a luxury.

He never knew his mother. She probably decided to make a run for it after being unable to take his father's drinking habits any longer. A shame she didn't bring him along. Although it was likely he would be nothing but a burden and a tragic reminder of what she hoped to escape.

Either way, Conor didn't think too much about it at the time since he had his hands full trying to handle his father's never-ending tantrums. He mostly just let him run wild during the day as he watched quirky cartoons on the old TV.

Still, it became a different story the moment the drugs appeared in the house.

That was when Conor knew he had to go. Finally, leave for good.

When his father was drunk he was annoying and overbearing, spitting insults and complaints without remorse. The drugs, however, gave him the courage to go further.

For that, Conor felt like he was better off alone. So, the next time his father was once again knocked out on the couch, he ran away. He didn't know what happened to his father afterward. After all, he was too busy trying to survive on the streets alone.

Though, he did come back one more time to scavenge for food and pick up some of his old clothes. When he sneaked into the old shack, his father wasn't there. Everything else was as he left it but the house was suspiciously empty.

He told himself that his father was probably out to take care of some chores but deep down, he knew that wasn't the case. Yet, he left without looking back. He didn't want to remember.

A few months later, he entered the orphanage. As a 7-year-old, he still looked much younger due to malnutrition and a slow growth rate. And despite the other kids facing the same problems, they were still taller than him.

It didn't help that his mischievous nature made him the focus of the orphaned children's ire. He always sought conflict despite being beaten to a pulp thanks to his scrawny, meek figure.

Life for Conor passed like that.

Sleeping, eating, fighting, and losing.

It was a cold day in late fall when all of this changed.

Backed against the stone wall behind the orphanage, Conor let himself fall to the ground to dodge the fist of one of his three assailants. However, the kick that came next was a different story.

"Arrghhhh!!!"

"Yeah, that's what you get, Conor! Just try to open your mouth in front of us again!"

Conor flinched in pain as his arm covered his side. He understood that he took it too far today but there was no going back now.

"Hey, buddy. It's not my fault you three are too stupid to understand what your puberty hormones do to you."

"Puberty hormones, what?"

"...Exactly."

Well, who can blame them? The mandatory education of the orphaned ends after primary school. Further schooling is up to self-study to save money, something those three probably have never done before. Although it was a little bit petty from him to point that out.

Bang!!!

The second kick hit even harder than the first. Luckily, Conor was prepared this time and caught the other's leg, pulling him down into a tight wrangle. Unfortunately, his opponent and his friends were older than him around eleven and twelve years old. He, with his current ten years of age and a body that appeared even younger, wasn't a match at all.

In the end, Conor was left lying in the mud with one blue eye.

Definitely not one of his best performances, that's for sure.

Slowly pushing himself up from the ground, Conor patted down his dirty, ragged clothes before making his way back inside the orphanage building. His mood was quite gloomy as he pushed open the side door and stumbled towards the stairs.

That's when he noticed the commotion around him. Everyone was running frantically around as if the building was on fire. Loud shouts resounded from the entrance hall and the entire area was shrouded in nervousness and confusion.

Looking around, Conor made eye contact with a passing female caretaker who stopped at the sight of him with shock written on her face.

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"Oh my god, Connor! What happened to your face?" The caretaker hastily kneeled down to inspect his hurt eye.

"It's not as bad as it looks."

"Oh really, you look like you've been mugged!" She shot back in angry sarcasm but it couldn't hide the worry hidden in her eyes. Taking the opportunity, Conor asked the question that lingered in his mind.

"What is happening here?"

"Oh? Well, a guest came who was looking to adopt one of you kids and asked everyone to line up in front. That person wanted to see for herself before making a decision."

Line up in front? Conor was confused as something like that never happened before. Usually, parents looking to adopt someone would speak to the orphanage director and look through their files until they find someone suitable. Anyway, it didn't concern him as he wasn't one of the coveted targets for adoption due to his bad behavior.

"Alright, you should go now too. Just wait in the entrance hall like the others."

"Can I still wash up? I'm quite dirty."

"No, there's no time. The guest is very important so don't be late." She added before leaving.

Looking at the caretaker's back, Conor shook his head and headed over to the entrance hall. There, children between the ages of six to fourteen were lining up while chatting intently with each other. Conor ignored them and stood at the end of the line.

He wasn't in the mood for small talk after his beating, so he simply kept quiet.

A few minutes later, an old man with white hair and evident wrinkles on his face entered the hall accompanied by an attractive woman who seemed to be in her late twenties. Conor couldn't see much from the distance and her face appeared even vaguer due to the black baseball cap on her head.

Although the guest was different from what he imagined, his curiosity stopped there. Rather, he was much more interested in the wounds he got before.

As the director followed the woman taking a look at the children, Conor raised his hand to his face, carefully touching the area around his eye with his finger. With a distorted face, he let out a long sigh. It was definitely swollen and hurt a lot.

Trying to blink a couple of times, he suddenly noticed the black boots that stopped in front of him. He raised his head just in time to hear what the woman said to the director.

"Can I see Blue Eye's file?"

Is she talking about him?

"Oh, yes. Conor's file, of course." The director quickly said before pulling a thin folder out of the thick stack of files he carried in his hands.

The woman patiently received the file before taking a look inside. Conor couldn't see the expression she was making but after a while, she closed it and gave the file back to the director.

"He's the one. I'll prepare the paperwork." The woman said and turned to leave without saying another word.

Glancing between the leaving woman and Conor, the director left him a word before leaving as well.

"Congratulations, Conor. You're getting a new family."

Watching both of them leave, Conor didn't know what to say. He was confused and just stood there, silently.

Adopted? Me?

Other kids would feel happy and excited at the news but Conor merely felt empty.

He never even considered the possibility of being adopted and getting a new family, so he didn't completely understand what it meant.

However, what he did understand was the meaning of family.

Parents.

There was nothing holding him in this orphanage, so he wasn't very reluctant to the idea. If there was something, it was the past that concerned him.

His father was a failure.

Now, he will finally get a mother.

This can't be much worse, right?

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