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?