Chapter 1: Of everything I lost, you’re all that I miss.

Chapter 1: Of everything I lost, you’re all that I miss.

I sat on the roof of the four-story building even though I wasn’t supposed to be up there. The stark contrast between the peaceful quietness and the bustling streets far below felt almost surreal. It was as if someone turned the sound off and all the ant-sized people below made no noise. The only sound I heard came from the gentle breeze that whistled between the buildings. Focus Oliver. I looked at the half-written letter.

Dearest Grace,

I fully understand why you haven’t replied to my previous letters. You must be hurting so much right now. I want you to know that I love you very much and miss you terribly. Miss Havasu refuses to let me visit but the minute I can, I promise to come see you first thing.

There was so much more I wanted to say but more than anything, I just wanted to hug my baby sister. She was two years younger than me and the best sister a boy could ask for. While I did have two older brothers, they were jerks who never liked me. The only good thing about them was that they loved Grace just as much as I did. It all started the day I was born. That was also the day Mom died. I never met her. Not unless you count that brief moment when I emerged into the world. Dad says she lived just long enough to name me. That is why my name is my favorite thing that I own. Dad was okay. At least he didn’t blame me for killing Mom. He says that was the Flu. It was a very specific Flu called the Spanish Flu. It was so bad it spread through the whole world. Can you imagine everyone catching the same sickness at the same time? I can’t. Where was I? Oh, right, the letter.

Life in the orphanage isn’t so bad. I’m glad you have your Mom right now. Don’t blame her for getting rid of me. This way, the two of you will be better off. That doesn’t mean I’ll ever stop being your brother. Attached are the next five chapters of your bedtime story.

Love Always, Oliver

I looked the letter over and held it away from my face so the tears wouldn’t blur the ink. She was better off with Mom. She really was. Not that she was my mom. Technically, she was my stepmother but she made it clear in no uncertain terms that she wasn’t even that to me. For her, I was a convenient pigmy that existed to help clean and look after Grace. I didn’t mind though. I loved Grace. When I was five, I was super excited to start school. The idea of learning new things fascinated me. There was a whole world out there that I didn’t understand and school was the widely accepted way to learn all about it. Unfortunately, my evil stepmother reared her ugly head once again, and I learned a new term that year; Homeschool. That witch didn’t teach me anything. However, her lie came with convenient props. To convince Dad, and the school board, that she was doing her job, she had to provide me with books and other materials. There also had to be proof that I was learning, so for at least a few hours a day, I was allowed to study. I folded the letter and neatly stuffed it into a fat envelope along with the continuation of our story I’d read to her so many nights at bedtime. If I gave it to Miss Havasu, she would get it out with the morning post. The problem was sneaking it past the other kids. Some of them had a bad habit of stealing anything I owned and destroying it. In the case of letters, they would rip my envelope open and read the stories out loud while making them as embarrassing as possible. They’d done it before. Slipping my feet over the lip of the building, I walked toward the fire escape, careful to step lightly so I wouldn’t alert anyone to my presence. The last thing I needed was for anyone to find out about my hiding spot. The only thing I had to keep them out was the biting cold weather, not that it bothered me. I always ran hot for some reason. After taking the stairs down to the fourth floor, I snuck a peek into the window to see if the coast was clear. In the distance, I saw Gordon and a few of his cronies. He was the last person I wanted to see, and it looked like he was picking on Timmy again. His name wasn’t really Timmy. Everyone just called him that because he was so small. While we didn’t have much, one of the luxuries at the Orphanage was a radio in Miss Havasu’s office. She let us listen to it on special occasions. One of those times was Christmas and that’s where we all heard A Christmas Carol. While all the other kids only learned fancy nicknames and a few new jokes from that story, I gained a fierce longing. I was going to get rich and I was going to help people. Everyone deserved a chance at happiness. True happiness. I descended to the third floor and peeked in the window. The coast was clear but there was one problem. The window was locked. That left only one choice, so I descended to the second floor and knocked on the window. Miss Havasu slowly rose from her rocking chair by the fireplace in her study. She looked around in confusion for a moment before raising an eyebrow when she saw me. She flipped the lever locking the window in place and I pulled it open. “Thanks!” I said with a sheepish smile. “Are you running away again?” She asked, heaving a drawn-out sigh. “No, Ma’am,” I replied, holding up the envelope. “I wrote another letter for Grace. Can you mail it out for me?” She took the envelope over to her desk where she reached into the drawer for a book of stamps. “You know the deal. Extra chores for a week.” I nodded. “Yes, Ma’am.” “You’re such a good kid,” Miss Havasu sighed. “It’s a pity you’re so old. If you were younger, somebody would adopt you in a heartbeat. Speaking of which, isn’t it your birthday next week?” “That’s right!” I replied excitedly. “Next week I’ll be thirteen. Do you think maybe I can see Grace?” Miss Havasu seemed to age in front of me. “You know how your Stepmother is. She’s not having it. I’m so sorry.” I sighed. “Can you at least try? I miss her.” “Very well,” Miss Havasu sighed. “I’ll see what I can do. In the meantime, is there anything else you want? I might be able to convince Mr. Baker to give you a slice of cake.” “Do you think he might be willing to make something for all the kids?” I asked hopefully. “I don’t mind working for him again.” She let out another sigh and leaned forward to kiss my forehead. “Oliver Evans, you are probably the sweetest kid I’ve ever met, and trust me, I’ve met a lot. I’ll see what I can do. For now, go get some sleep. You’re going to be busy tomorrow.” “Yes, Ma’am,” I chanted, earning a light chuckle from the Directress.

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“Hold it!” Gordon called after me as I tiptoed toward the bedroom. “We’ve been looking for you.” I stiffened, cursing my luck. “Ah, Gordon. How are you today? What do you need?” Fat hands gripped my shoulders, twisting me around to face him. “You were supposed to do my chores and they ain’t done.” I looked up at his pockmarked face. Gordon was several years older than me and the only orphan who didn’t look underfed. It was a trait he probably developed by stealing food from all the other orphans, including his cronies. “What chores?” I asked, looking at the other boys who were sniggering. “You didn’t tell me about any chores?” “That’s because I couldn’t find you,” he snarled. “Now come with me. It’s my turn to clean the bathrooms, and by mine, I mean yours.” That was easy enough. When it came to cleaning toilets, I considered myself an expert. I’d even gotten used to blocking out the smell while I worked. Unfortunately, Gordon didn’t have anything that pleasant in mind. The minute we entered the restroom, he marched over to me in the stall and grabbed me. Together with both of his cronies, they flipped me upside down and lowered my head into the toilet bowl. “Wait! At least flush fir…” I barely had a chance to take a gulp of air before they dunked me. To Gordon’s credit, he did flush but not until my head was underwater. At that point, all I could do was wait until they were satisfied. This seemed to anger Gordon and he flushed two more times. Finally, they plucked me out and turned me upright. One of his cronies, George, slapped me on the shoulder. “Wow man, you sure can hold your breath.” I spluttered for good measure to make sure Gordon knew I suffered enough. “Thanks. I think.” Gordon looked satisfied. “Yeah, yeah. Clean this mess up. If I hear anything about it from Miss Havasu, I’ll make sure you pay for it.” “No problem,” I muttered, walking over to the closet to get cleaning supplies.

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It happened when I was busy scrubbing a particularly nasty stain on the floor. It had been there since before I arrived and I was determined to snuff it out. It was a real battle of attrition. Me and my soap versus it and whatever it was made up of. I lathered my sponge in soapy water and leaned into it, scrubbing until my shoulders burned. “What are you made of, you stupid stain?”

Ability Unlocked: Analyze

I blinked, wondering if fatigue was making me see things. However, the words were still there, plastered in mid-air. I tried to focus on the stain.

Blood Stain on tile: Wash the stain in mild detergent and hot water, then blot with hydrogen peroxide or diluted bleach.

More words appeared, and these words were offering me advice on how to deal with the stain. My first failure was obvious. I’d been using cold water. We only had cold water in the sink. If I wanted hot water, I’d have to walk to the other side of the building and turn on the shower, and that was only if there was any left. Fortunately, this late at night, there should be some. I thought about the message as I walked. Am I hallucinating? Where did that come from? Can I do it again? I answered the last question by examining a painting on the wall.

Oil Painting Replica Created by: Smith

So, I can analyze anything? Interesting.

When I got to the shower, I looked in the mirror by the door. My reflection looked back, scrunching its eyes in the way I did when I was puzzled over something. My blonde hair was perfectly parted on the left side and cropped closely around my ears. I was tall but scrawny. Even when I lived with my family I’d never had a huge appetite, not that my stepmom knew how to cook well. I focused on my nose and more words popped up.

Oliver Evans Class: Craftsman Level: 1 Age: 13 Weight: 114 Lbs Height 5’6

“Hey! I’m not thirteen…yet,” I blanched at the words. “I’m not officially thirteen until next week.” Did the words round up? I thought back to what I last ate, Gruel. Did Gordon spike my food again? Was I hallucinating? I sighed and turned the shower on, waiting patiently for the water to heat up. Under normal circumstances, I’d use the opportunity to grab a quick shower so I didn’t have to fight over them in the morning with the other kids. However, the stain was still on my mind, and I wasn’t about to lose by letting the water get cold.