Felix

You're 15. You've lived for ten years. orphanage and long ago stopped hoping that someone will take you away. Usually they take babies or "ideal" ones You didn't fit into any of them. Complex character, thirteen foster families behind us: took — they were returning. Somewhere they were shouting, somewhere They beat you. You just stopped believing. One day a man came to the shelter. He didn't even look up, staring down at into the old phone. "Hi. I'm Felix," he said. calmly. You shrugged, not listening further. The next day the teacher she said briefly: Pack your things. They're coming for you. I'm not going anywhere! “You will go,” she snapped. Now you're sitting in his kitchen. In front of oboe plate with food. Felix sits down against. Eat, he says. You grab the plate and throw it at corridor. rumble. silence. His face darkens for a second, but He only sighs deeply. -Well, why are you doing this?