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Untitled Story Coming of Age Potential Horror Outline

The joys of giving birth are that which stay with every mother and father for as long as they live. Seeing this beautiful human life which they together created, oh what a wonderful milestone that emphasizes the love which brings families together. The kids themselves never remember their first moments in this world. No, being so young, so fresh out of the womb, their only “memories” are those tales from their parents, making them visualize how their first moments went. Most kids, anyway. Most kids who are lucky enough to be born to two loving parents. Kids lucky enough to have parents that stay in their lives, and raise them, teach them, and help them thrive in this already nightmarish world. No, for kids like little James, these first moments are lost to time. And maybe that’s for the better. See, James was born to two parents who were so eager to have a child. That is, until his birth mother went into labor. His birth father was wrought with all sorts of thoughts, with numerous worries. He suddenly doubts if he ever even WANTED to be a father. It sure is a lot of responsibility, a lot of work. And how financially draining it is? How can he manage that on how little he is paid at the hardware store. Oh, such anxiety fills him as reality sets in. You would think all of this would be quelled when he sees his newborn boy, later to be named James. 

Oh, what a beautiful boy he is, too. His bald head already has a few tufts of bright orange hair. His bright blue eyes sparkle as he smiles and coos. Oh, how rare is it that a newborn like this doesn’t even cry. All of the nurses and nurse aids are so enamored with the newborn. “How adorable is he?” they are all heard saying. Even his birth parents can’t deny how precious he is. So precious, that they feel slight guilt over deciding that they just can’t be parents. Not enough, however, to even make an attempt to stay in this baby’s life. “Can you put us in touch with services to place him into adoption?” the father is heard asking a nurse. They are all appalled. “How can someone see such a sweet, beautiful baby and just dump him without a care?” the hospital staff asks. “Anyone would be lucky to bring such a sweet baby like him into this world!” others say. When asked about if any of the staff will adopt this angel, the excuses are always immediate. “I’m just not ready for kids, or I’d GLADLY take him in!” some say, while others quickly stammer out “Well, I have a hard enough time caring for my houseplants!”, followed by a forced laugh. 

Sure, little James is such a beautiful and loving baby, and would brighten any home, and bring any family together. But why can’t he seem to find the right family? Why can’t this poor, sweet angel find a loving home? Everyone seems so enamoured with this sweet baby, just not enough, it seems, to take him into their home, into their lives to give him a permanent family. This poor baby finds his way to the foster care system, where the staff is equally enamoured with him. Little James, as they name him, just looks around happily at his surroundings and flashes his sweet, happy smile at everyone. Every person coming to find a child to be a part of their family are equally smitten with the sweet boy, How his big eyes just light up meeting each and every new stranger. Oh, how most infants his age scream and cry every time a new person sticks their giant head in their face. James doesn’t do that. No, he’s always thrilled over the affection these strangers show him. And boy, does he return any affection shown to him. James puts his tiny hands out and reaches for these strangers. His face lights up any time these people greet him. “Oh, how HAPPY he is!” they would exclaim. “He’s so well behaved compared to most kids his age! I just can’t tear myself away from him!” women say. But they do tear themselves away. Just when the foster care staff feels that James has finally found a mother and father, the excuses come. They don’t understand why, but these would be parents get cold feet about adopting, and come up with excuses as to why they can’t bring this poor child into their homes. “My job isn’t exactly stable right now.” some of the men say. “I wouldn’t know how to care for an infant, maybe we should bring in a child a little older” some of the women follow up with. It breaks the hearts of the foster care staff. “Anyone would be lucky to have such a sweet child as their son!” the staff is heard telling one another. “Why don’t you adopt him?” one staff member always seems to suggest to another. “You’ve been saying you want to be a mother, and James would be a perfect first child!” Oh, how that leads to discomfort among the staff members put on the spot. Sure, James is adorable and he is oh so well behaved. But for reasons they can’t explain, each staff member finds themselves as uncomfortable as the various couples that come into the office. James doesn’t seem to mind, of course how could he even realize at his young age the difficulty he is having in finding a family to raise him? He is just happy to exist, happy to meet each of these strangers, even if they don’t stay long. That alone calms the staff somewhat. But what of the milestones most kids hope to achieve alongside their parents? How will James feel if he misses out on playing catch with a father, going camping, or even experiencing holidays? How their heart breaks upon thinking of the wonderful things this sweet little angel could miss out on by not having a loving family around him. 

A handful of years have passed, and James, now a joyful and energetic four years old, finds himself in the sprawling yard of his new home. Yes, this sweet child has finally found a family, a couple in their mid thirties who never had the ability to have children of their own. They happily took James into their home a mere few days ago, bringing James so much happiness. He has spent so much time exploring this yard he is wandering around, and is still AMAZED by how sprawling it is. Oh, sure, it may not be the size of a football field, or even a local playground. But to James, it is a paradise of possibilities. He can’t help but imagine what all he could do in such a sprawling field such as this. He dreams of the different fantasy games he could play, seeing himself in different play costumes such as a soldier or superhero. He imagines playing catch with himself, tossing a ball into the air and then dashing to catch it. All the while doing commentary like a sports announcer. “And James comes in with the interception!” he hears himself call out. “The crowd goes wild!” James can’t help but smile imagining himself saying this, picturing himself in his very own jersey as he plays. 

He then looks at the towering trees, and the cascading branches and leaves. Oh, SUCH trees! James then imagines what all could be done with these massive, cascading maples. James sees his new mom and dad helping him hang Halloween decorations from the many branches. He also imagines hanging ropes from the tree branches and swinging on them, or climbing up like the ninja warrior videos he loved watching on TV. He sees himself once more in a handmade superhero costume, swinging around like his beloved comic book characters. 

The sudden sound of a car pulling over a gravel driveway brings James out of his daydream. He then jumps at a loud *SLAM* as a car door is closed. James realizes that his new father is home from work. The young boy fills with excitement, and pumps his tiny legs as he dashes through the side yard around the side of the house. His new father stomps his way towards the porch as he hears a pitter pattering of tiny feet in the grass behind him. “Hey, Dad!” the boy bellows, full of enthusiasm and joy. “How was work, Dad?” he continues, eyes beaming as he shouts, approaching the weary looking man. The man merely grunts as he stomps his way up the porch. “Dad, after dinner, can we maybe play catch in the yard? Or even football? I was looking around the yard and-” The man sharply turns in the exuberant boy’s direction. “Can you give me one minute of FUCKING peace, please? We just got you a shit ton of those stupid toys you like, play with those!” the man shouts, his raspy voice echoing. The man then continues stomping across the porch and into the house, letting the door slam behind him. James knows his new father doesn’t mean it. That poor man must have had a long day. Yes, that’s it. His new father will apologize and shower the young boy with love and attention. The young boy just needs to wait until after dinner for his new beloved father to relax a bit. James just knows his father’s job is incredibly stressful. Not that he knows what the man even DOES for a living, not that it matters to James. All that matters to the boy is that his new father works so hard to keep a roof over his head, and keep James in a happy family in a safe neighborhood. His dad works so hard out of the love the man has for James. The poor guy is just overly stressed right now from all of that hard work he is going through. Yes, James is so sure that’s the issue.

James enters the house and sees his foster father sitting on the couch in his rumpled clothes. The man’s head is tilted back and eyes are squeezed shut. He runs his fingers through his thinning brown hair and exhales sharply. Another long day for the man, giving him another intense migraine. And this insufferable child doesn’t make it any better. Oh how he wanted a family, as did his wife. Circumstances made that impossible for them over the years. But now, they talked about maybe pursuing adoption to finally have a family they dreamed of. When they met bright eyed James, and saw how sweet and loving he was, they thought it was such a wonderful idea to bring this boy into their home. But in the short time the child has been there, he has been incessantly bothering them, clinging to them at every chance, never giving them a moment's peace. The kid has been so insufferable to them, and putting them even more on edge every day with his constant need for attention. Suddenly, the couch shakes as a small body plops itself down on the couch. The man winces as the couch moves. He slowly opens his eyes, and sees James sitting at the far end, smiling at him. Oh, how he can’t stand that annoying grin. 

“Can I help you?” the man asks, trying to mask his annoyance. James just continues smiling at his new father, love and warmth beaming from his bright blue eyes. “No Dad, I just wanted to wait for dinner here with you.” the young boy says sweetly. The man cringes and lets out another deep sigh. “James,” the man says, carefully trying to hide his frustration with the young boy. “Can you do me a HUGE favor? Can you look over all of your toys and make sure that nothing is missing from your old room? Just to make sure that we didn’t accidentally leave anything behind?” James hops off the couch and smiles once more. “OK, Dad! I’ll make sure it’s all here!” he shouts as he moves his tiny legs and runs up the stairs, his shoes *CLIP* *CLOP* all the way. These sounds make his new father wince at each echoing sound.

The foster mother comes in from the kitchen, a mildly annoyed grimace plastered on her overly tanned face. “That kid just doesn’t know when to shut up, does he?” the woman says, disdain dripping from her voice. “Yeah, I should have realized that this obnoxious little shit would be getting on my nerves every single day.” The father says. “No wonder no one wanted this annoying little twerp.” he continues, as he glares at the young boy’s backpack. “Yeah, he’s been pestering me all day and calling me ‘mom’. It’s incredibly irritating. But we can’t just take the annoying little shit back, can we? I mean, he’s not a dog we can just drop off at a kennel. He’s a human being. Incredibly annoying and needy, but a human being.” She continues, obviously regretting taking the small boy into her home. “Well” the man continues, slowly, obviously weighing the situation in his head. “He starts kindergarten next year, maybe he’ll meet some friends and spend most of his time there. Get him out of our hair for a bit.”

Unbeknownst to the two new parents, James sits at the top of the stairs, listening to his new foster parents talking about him. He can’t convince himself otherwise, his new parents don’t love him. Much like his real parents never loved him. How could they? They just abandoned James when he was merely days old. The poor boy has no one to love him the way he loves others. His heart breaks into pieces, and he begins sobbing, feeling true sorrow for the first time in his far too young life.

Months have passed, and it is now James’s first Christmas. The heartbreak James experienced all those months ago has all but dissipated. His foster parents have shown him much love and attention since that awful day, making James feel that he IS wanted, and that he really is part of a family at last. James comes downstairs, not knowing what to expect. Sure, he had Christmas celebrations at the foster center, but with all of the kids under care, it’s hard to give each kid the sort of attention a single family would give to a child. James reaches the bottom of the stairs, and his eyes widen. Stacks of huge boxes in colored metallic wrapping paper fill the living room. James has NEVER seen anything like it. His jaw drops at the incredible sight. Could ALL of these presents POSSIBLY be for him? No way, how could they? But even if a FRACTION of them are his, then this Christmas is a dream come true to him. 

His foster father and mother come down in their silk pajamas and smile at the image of young James being so transfixed. His step father puts his large hand on James’s tiny shoulder and squeezes. James is taken out of his frozen state and whirls around. “How many of these are for me?” He asks excitedly. His foster parents chuckle at seeing how thrilled the boy is. “Why don’t you go take a look? They all have tags on them. You’ll be surprised.” The mother says, running her manicured fingers through his bright red hair.

The boy darts over to the mountain of presents, and begins looking through them. To his amazement, more than he could ever imagine are for him. MASSIVE boxes, small boxes, and ones in between. Oh, James doesn’t even know WHERE to begin! He tears open one big box, and it is a playset for one of his favorite superheroes. He is so excited, and cannot WAIT to set it up. Continuing to tear open his gifts, he finds his heroes' entire rogues gallery in action figure form, toy cars, role play sets and wrestling toys. Not to mention clothes, but most kids would typically feel indifferent about that. Not James, though. He is excited for new outfits to wear, and that his new mother and father thought enough to get him brand new clothes ahead of him starting school. After all the donations and hand me downs he had to wear in the foster system, he finally has new clothes that look like they will fit him perfectly.

After what seemed like an eternity of joy and bliss, the living room is covered in wrapping paper. Boxes of opened presents are stacked around the room, and James prepares to start playing with his new toys. He grabs one of them, when a large hand grabs his shoulder. “Not just yet, James.” His foster father says, sternly. “We’re glad you like your presents, but you have to clean all of this up first.” James looks at the man, confused. 

The man gestures his hand at the mass of paper strewn about the living room. “This mess YOU made opening gifts. You need to be responsible and clean this up before you can enjoy your gifts. Unless you want us to take everything back. If you don’t want to show you are responsible and that you don’t appreciate all that we have done for you.” He continues, his eyes boring into the young boy. Sheepishly, James nods and starts gathering the paper. “Make sure you put all of that in the big garbage bags, OK, James?” the father says, running his hand over the boy's hair, with a fake kindness in his voice. “And make sure you take down the decorations while you’re at it.” The foster mother adds. James looks at her, then around the room at all of the Christmas decorations. “By myself?” James asks, feeling as if he is in way over his head at this task. He still just wants to make his foster parents happy and prove his love and appreciation to them, but still. He can’t help but feel this will take until NEXT Christmas to take this all down himself.

“Yes, by yourself, silly! You can do it, once you get started, it will be a BREEZE his father tells him. The man pats the boy’s shoulder before leaving the room with his wife. James sighs, and gets several garbage bags from the kitchen. He eyes his presents yearningly, wanting to play like any child would on Christmas morning. Little by little, he gathers all of the torn wrapping paper, filling multiple garbage bags. “Don’t forget to take the bags to the garbage can!” His foster mother calls out from upstairs. James sighs, and hauls the bags, which are even larger than his slight frame, to the porch and down the steps.

After much too long, James is finally finished, and looks around the bare living room, save for the presents still sitting there. He smiles and approaches his toys when he feels a hand on his shoulder. James looks up and sees his foster father looking down at him. “Did I do good, Dad?” James asks the man. “You sure did James!” The man tells him, making the young boy’s eyes light up. James is absolutely thrilled knowing he made his foster father proud. “But” the man starts, as James starts to make his way towards his presents. “But, you need to put these away in your room, alright? And I don’t just mean putting the boxes in there. We need you to put the new clothes away in the right drawers and put all of your toys neatly in the room.”

James looks at his presents, then up at his father. “Will I be able to play with them after?” The older man shakes his head. “We have to get ready to go to your new grandparents house! They’re expecting us.” The man tells him, with a half sincere smile. “Can I take a toy with me to their house?” James asks, growing ever more eager to play with his new toys. “We don’t want to risk you losing any of your new toys, James. You can play with your toys when you come home, arlight?”

The young boy hangs his head and sighs, unable to hide his disappointment. “I don’t want to see any pouting, now. We can always find another little boy to enjoy all of these gifts.” The man says. James tries to hold in his disappointment. Last thing he ever wants is to make his new parents think he doesn’t appreciate and love everything they do for him. He walks over to his gifts and gathers them, taking them to his room.

It’s now James’s first day of kindergarten. He is dressed in some of the new clothes he got for his fifth birthday. His long red locks are combed over and heavily sprayed by his foster mother into an almost immovable helmet of hair. The nervous boy clutches his backpack tightly. James doesn’t know what to expect at all. Sure, his teacher seemed nice and all, but poor James is never good with meeting other kids. All he wants is to befriend them, but what if they don’t like him? What if he says something stupid and is teased relentlessly?

James sees the school get closer as his foster mother pulls up through the culdasac to the dropoff point. His poor little stomach is in knots. Young James feels every cell in his body shake with anticipation, and fear. Oh, how he wishes he could skip kindergarten. He even remembers BEGGING his foster parents to let him avoid this torture. “Once you get there and start making friends, you will be THRILLED to go every day!” his foster parents tell him.

The car pulls up to the curb and stops. James looks up at the red brick building and gleaming windows. It looks foreboding to the young boy. Plus, all the strange kids running across the sidewalk shouting, kids eager to start a new year and meet new friends just feels foreign to James. He looks up at his foster mother, and then back at the school. “Well?” she says, a fake smile plastered on her face. “You gonna go in for your first day?” James can’t help but feel a little nausious at the idea. His fear, his worry is overtaking him. “It will be alright, James. I PROMISE.” She continues, hoping he listens to her. Apprehensively, James opens the car door and starts stepping onto the sidewalk. He looks back at his foster mother again, who continues smiling at him. “Go on” she urges, “The day will be over before you know it, and you’ll have plenty of brand new friends!”. James closes the car door and saunters down the sidewalk to the school entrance. The mother watches him go inside and the smile fades from her tanned face. “Good riddence. Annoying little twerp.” She mumbles, before driving off.

James walks in slowly, and finds himself in awe of the massive school lobby. “Watch it, dweeb!” one kid shouts as he dashes past James, nearly knocking him over. The kid darts through the lobby and up a huge flight of stairs. What if all of the kids are like that? James worries about being pushed around by everyone he meets, and this punk kid does little to ease his worries. He pulls the paper from his pocket with his room number on it, and tries to find his way through the school. 

Finally finding his classroom, James wanders in, and looks around at all of the other kids. Different kids are seen playing with all sorts of toys, playing tag, and some are sitting at desks with picture books. Not knowing how to even start making friends or introducing himself, James sits down at a desk in a far corner of the classroom. He keeps looking at the other kids, and wishes he knew how to approach them. Should he just go over and say his name? Should he ask the other kids what they are playing? If only this was easier–

*PLUNK* and a shaking of the desk startles James. He looks up and sees a girl with dark hair, grabbing her knee. “Stupid desk and stupid school!” the little girl says as she sits down across from James. He looks away, trying not to call attention from her. She looks at him and tries to get his attention. “HI!” she shouts, waving enthusiastically. “I’m Melanie, but my parents and cousins call me Mel! What’s your name? I like your red hair by the way, and what is that on your backpack? Is that a superhero? I LOVE superheroes!” she yells, all in rapid succession. 

James takes a moment to digest everything his new friend is saying, shaking his head in bewilderment. “Uh, hi, my name is James. It’s nice to meet you Melan-uh Mel. Yeah, I love superheroes, too. I got a bunch of stuff for Christmas along with this backpack.” James holds it up, showing an image of Batman across it. “Oh, cool!” Mel says, grabbing it. “I LOVE Batman! Did you see that new Batman movie? My parents wouldn’t let me see the new Batman movie as they said it was too violent but my aunt and uncle smuggled it in one night when they babysat me and I got to see it with my cousins and it was SOOOOO cool!”

Uh, yeah my foster parents got me the tape for Christmas, and I got to watch it. I really liked it, they didn’t say much about how viol-""Foster parents?” Mel asks, cutting him off. “What’s that mean?” “They adopted me. I never met my real parents.” James says. A slight bit of sadness overcomes the young boy just thinking about it, just the mere thought that his real parents never wanted him. Mel notices his sadness and gets up out of her chair to hug him. “I’m sorry. At least you have parents now, and if they picked you, that means you’re special.” 

The sincerity behind Mel’s comment means the world to James. Never has he felt such genuine kindness, especially after just meeting someone. He hugs her back, and he knows a true friend has finally come into his life. “Take your seats, everyone!” A teacher calls out, and Mel sits down, followed by all of the other kids scrambling to take their seats. James looks at the speaker, and remembers the day he came with his foster mother to meet Miss Ferguson. She is a statuesque black woman in neatly tailored clothes, and exudes kindness, along with sophistication. 

“I’m glad you’re all having a good time getting to know one another, but we should get started today. After I take roll, I will make sure we get started on your exciting journey here at Sheffield Elementary!” She tells them excitedly. “Um, Miss Burgerson?” One overweight boy asks, as he moves around in his seat. “That’s Miss FERGUSON, Joel.” She corrects him, as the class laughs. “What is it?” “Well, I gotta poop!” he tells her, as he continues fidgeting in his seat. “Joel” Miss Ferguson says, kindly yet sternly, “The proper way is to ask if you may use the restroom.” “Ok, sorry. May I use the restroom? I gotta poop!” The class laughs once more as the teacher already feels exasperated. 

“Yes, Joel. But hurry back.” And with that, the overweight boy pops up from his seat and waddles to the restroom, to the laughter of the other students. Miss Ferguson sighs and goes through her roll book. James watches his teacher call out the student names, and tries to memorize each person’s name. He figures that will make things a bit easier to interact with his classmates if he already knows their names. “James?” the teacher calls out, making him jump. “Oh, uh, present!” he says, before drifting back into his thoughts.

At lunchtime, James and Mel make their way through the line, and continue getting to know one another. Rather, Mel fires off hundreds of questions in excited succession as James struggles to keep up. “Do you have a favorite sport cause I love sports and I do gymnastics and karate-oooohhh wanna come to my karate school sometime I just started and I love it and it is so much fun and my dad has a black belt and said I could get a black belt once I’m eighteen and I know it’s a far way off but I love it and being active oh can I see your yard sometime I love running around in yards-” “God, does this girl EVER slow down?” A skinny brown haired boy asks from behind. “I have you know I have a lot of pep, don’t you have any pep cause my mom and dad say I could power our whole house with all of my pep!” “Sorry I asked.” The boy says, laughing. James looks at the boy and back at Mel. “Anyway, my yard is pretty big. I mean, not huge, but I run around a lot and I play catch with my foster dad sometimes. I mostly play catch by myself, though.”

“How do you play catch by yourself?” the boy behind him asks. The mere question almost makes James feel as if the boy is insulting him, or mocking him in some way. James starts to sheepishly hang his head when Mel interjects. “Anyone who can run and likes being active can play catch by themself I mean I could play catch by myself too not everyone has the opportunity to play catch with others-” “Ok, Ok” the boy says, raising his hands up in surrender. “I didn’t mean anything by it. I was just curious.”

“It’s ok. I’m just not used to talking to other kids. I was adopted last summer and I never got to meet the kids on my street, if there are any. I’m usually by myself so I play that way.” “Where do you live?” Mel asks him. “I live on Irwin street, 1024. It’s that big house with the fancy brick porch.” Mel and the brown haired boy stare at him. “What?” he asks, confused. “That house is owned by RICH people!” Mel says. “VERY rich people.” the brown haired kid interjects. “Not THAT rich…” James says, sheepishly. “I need to come by and see this yard!” Mel says. “Me too!” The brown haired boy says. “Maybe this weekend we can come over!” Mel says, as she grabs a lunch tray.

James takes his tray and gets his food as he ponders having friends over. Friends, just the thought sounds so foreign to him. Maybe his foster mother was right after all. School won’t be so bad, and he will finally have people around who love him as much as he loves them. The loneliness will be gone that he has felt all these years. “Whatduyawant kid?” asks an overweight woman at the counter. James looks at the counter, feeling lost. “TODAY, squirt!” She continues, aggressively. A flustered James just points at some fried chicken nuggets, which get dumped onto his tray. The nuggets bounce like rubber, looking more than a bit unappetizing to the kids nearby.

“Yum.” the brown haired boy says, as he can feel his appetite diminish. “You want the nuggets too, shorty?” the woman asks. The boy looks at James’s tray and at the hot dogs in soggy buns. “Um…I’ll take the hotdogs instead, please.” The woman takes the hotdog and drops it on his tray with a disgusting *SPLART* as god knows what sort of liquid splashes out of the bun. The boy gags, before moving on behind his new friends.

The weekend has finally come, and school has surely taken its toll on the kids. After a week of learning how to follow rules and acclimate themselves to the sort of structure school will entail for the next decade or so of their lives, the new trio gather at James’s home. The brown haired boy, who James now knows as Chris, looks around the outside of the house. “Wow” Chris says, voice full of wonder. “Your faster parents must have a bazillion dollars?” “Foster.” Mel says, correcting him. “Same thing.” he barks back. “It isn’t” she replies, “And ‘bazillion’ isn’t an amount.” “It is TOO!” Chris yells. The sound of his shrill voice echoes through the neighborhood.

“WHAT is going ON out here?!” James’s foster mother asks as she swings the screen door open. She looks down and sees two kids with her foster son. “Oh, James, are these the new friends you told us about?” she asks, feigning interest and joy. “Uh, Yeah, this is Mel and Chris.” James says, motioning to his friends. “Well, that’s just DANDY!” she says, dripping with sarcasm. “Just keep it down, I’m trying to read my romance novels. If you need anything, you’re more than capable of getting it yourself!” She says, before letting the screen door slam behind her.

Chris and Mel stare at the door before looking at James. “Dude, are you sure they even LIKE you?” Chris asks, before being elbowed by Mel. “What?” he asks, oblivious to how hurtful his comment is. “Don’t listen to him,” Mel says, trying to sound comforting. “I’m sure she’s just preoccupied.” the girl continues. “I know my parents get grumpy sometimes. They mean well but they get a bit grumpy cause I think that’s what happens when you’re an adult do you guys think that will happen to us when we become adults-""Mel, do you down a ton of sugar before we see you every day?” Chris asks her, his hands up in defense.

“What do you mean by that Chris what does he mean by that James I just get excited sometimes when talking about things and I get curious-” “Ok, Mel,” Chris says. “So, we gonna get a tour of that backyard?” He asks James, as he peeks his head around the side of the house. James takes the lead and walks the kids around the side of the house. “Jeez, how long is this house?” Chris asks, in wonder. “How many rooms are there, even?” he continues, looking up at the towering home.

James looks up at his home as well and shrugs. “I’m only ever allowed in my bedroom and the living room. Except for dinner time when I can eat in the dining room. My foster parents are super particular about the house getting messy.” “Are you SURE they even like you?” James just turns and glares at Chris before continuing to lead his friends to the backyard. “I’m just saying, if you’re not even allowed-” Mel glares at her friend and elbows him. “OW! What was that for?”

Mel merely shakes her head before she notices the sprawling yard. “Oh my goodness! I could do so much karate and gymnastics in a yard like this and I would have so much fun oh you still need to come to karate cause you could do SO much karate-""Mel.” Chris says, exasperated with his friend. “Breathe.” James chuckles at his friends and continues forward. “Yeah, I love this yard. We had a field we would run around in at the foster home, but this feels so different to play in. Last Halloween I even made some stuff with my grandma’s help to hang from the trees. When I play catch, I’ll hit the ghosts with the ball that I throw-” 

“I still don’t get why you play catch by yourself-” Chris says, before Mel once again interrupts him. “Why are you so obsessed about James playing catch?” She asks. “I’m just saying, jeez.” Chris responds. Chris walks over to the massive tree, and starts to climb it. “Careful!” James says to him. “My foster parents always say they can’t be in trouble for someone getting hurt in their yard!” “Learn to live a little, James. Haven’t you ever tried climbing these?”

James continues watching his friend, full of apprehension. “I climb them sometimes, usually I throw a rope up I attached to a batarang-” “You attached a rope to a toy batarang?” Chris asks, laughing hysterically. “What kind of rope do you even use?” he asks through several laughs. “Well, I used some black yarn from my foster mother’s yarn collection-” “You used YARN?!” Chris interrupts. “How’d THAT work out?” Chris laughingly asks. James pauses and looks down at his tiny sneakers, sheepishly. “I got a few feet up the tree and the yarn broke. I fell on the grass pretty hard.

Chris laughs even harder, losing his grip on the tree. “That’s amaz-whup!” James panics as he sees his friend fall. “Chris!” he yells as he runs toward his plummeting comrade. Mel gasps and begins to worry. James gets his tiny body underneath his lanky friend, and both tumble into a bush with a hard *THUD*. They both groan as they hit, as Mel rushes to them. “Are you two alright is anything broken are you guys bleeding at all?” she asks in rapid succession. Both boys slowly make their way to their feet. Chris dusts himself off, and checks if anything is broken.

“I think I’m ok,” Chris says, as he lifts his head. “What about you, James?” James looks at his friend and his eyes go wide. Mel gasps as she sees it as well. “What?” Chris asks, as a big bloody gash drips down his face. Chris feels the warm liquid, and has a puzzled look on his face as his hand moves to the wound. Chris looks at his hand, and sees the dark red, sticky liquid on his thin, tiny fingers. Chris’s eyes go wide, and he breathes in sharply.

James’s stepmother is inside, reading a paperback romance novel, immersed in the steamy narrative. A sudden shriek and commotion startles her. The sound is coming from outside. It just HAS to be that obnoxious foster son of hers and those little brats he brought over. She should have known those little monsters would be trouble. This past year and a half has been nothing but stress and trouble with that child. She thinks back to the day that moron stole some of her yarn to climb the tree out back. “What the hell has this runt done now?” she thinks to herself.

“Chris, it’s ok” James says, looking around, “I’ll sneak inside and get some bandages and you’ll be fine-” “What if my BRAIN falls out! I don’t want to lose my BRAIN!” Chris says, panicking. “Your brain won’t fall out, Chris!” Mel says. “It’s just a little scrape, honest! James will bandage it up and I’ll help.” Mel continues, glancing at James’s back door. She then sees the door swing open, and James’s foster mother storms out, grasping a paperback book.

“What the HELL did you do this time, James?!” His foster mother spouts, much venom and annoyance in her tone. She just knows this idiot child has done SOMETHING that will make her life a wreck. Based on that shrill scream, how could it NOT be something awful? She looks down at those annoying kids, and sees James and that obnoxious girl hiding the third, brown haired one.

“Nothing, Mom, we just got out of hand playing and got a bit too excited.” James says, very insincere. “My BRAIN is gonna fall out!” Chris shouts, as he pokes his bloody head out from behind his friends. James’s stepmother drops her book and her overly shadowed eyes go wide. “James, what the HELL did you do?!” she shouts, enraged. “It wasn’t his fault, ma'am,” Mel says, pleading. “Chris was just admiring the tree and jumped up to grab a branch. He slipped and scraped his head but it’s just a little scrape honest and all we need is some bandages-”

“I didn’t ASK for your input, you brat!” The stepmother snaps. “Oh god my brain is gonna fall out!” Chris shouts once more. “Just GREAT, James! You’re ALWAYS doing shit to make my life harder and NOW this kid’s parents will probably want us to pay a hospital bill on top of suing us!” his foster mother barks. She looks over the boy’s wound, and leads him to the porch.

“Here” she tells a panicking Chris. “Have a seat and I’ll get some bandages and iodine. She then turns to James with eyes of fury. “Don’t you FUCKING move!” she tells him before stomping inside. James looks down at his feet, ashamed, as Mel consoles him. “This ISN'T your fault. At all. This was an accident, and Chris will be fine. Your foster mom is probably just worried. Once she calms down, she will apologize.” she tells him, patting his shoulder.

James shrugs, and still worries over what will happen next. The screen door swings open and hits the brick siding with a loud *SMACK* as the foster mother storms out carrying a load of bandages, rags and a bottle.”I need to put some iodine on your scrape after I look at it. I need to make sure it doesn’t get infected. First, I need to make sure you don’t need stitches.” Just that word makes Chris evermore horrified. He just imagines a big needle ripping through his skin, causing immense pain. His tiny knees shake at the thought as his wound is checked over.

The foster mother dabs cloth at the wound to remove some of the blood. “It doesn’t look TOO deep, so you should be fine if we put bandages on it. I still better get some iodine like I said. Now, this will sting a tiny bit.” she tells the boy, as she pours some of the liquid on a cotton rag. She dabs it at the wound, and Chris feels like acid is eating away at his already throbbing wound. His scream echoes through the neighborhood.

Later, James is in his room after facing punishment from his foster parents. He feels like he can’t do ANYTHING right after the scolding they gave him. Their harsh words echo through the young boy’s head. “As ALWAYS, you can’t go one single day without screwing SOMETHING up!” his foster father told him. “If you want to get other kids hurt on our watch, why should we even spoil you the way we do?” the man told his young foster son. “After all we have done for you, you have shown NOTHING but irresponsibility and disrespect.” the man continues.

Upon the parents leaving his room, James keeps thinking to himself that he really IS just a screw up. He FINALLY finds friends, and one of them gets hurt. No one will want to spend time with him now. He’s going to be alone and a failure, just like his foster parents told him. Why can’t James EVER seem to do anything right?

Months have passed, and it’s time for the kindergarten Halloween party. James excitedly carries his backpack into the classroom, with his costume inside. He is so eager to put the outfit on, as he worked so hard with his foster grandmother to put the costume together. He sits down across from Mel, who is already wearing her karate uniform as a costume. “Where’s your costume?” she asks him. “I’ve been so excited to see what you were gonna dress as, can you guess what I’m dressed as I’m excited about my costume I’m dressed as a karate girl cause I’m a girl and I do karate isn’t that FUN!”

James looks at her and laughs. “Yes, I noticed. I have my Batman costume my foster grandma helped me make-” “OOOHHHH I wanna SEE!” Mel blurts out excitedly. James chuckles and unzips his bag. Mel plunges her hands in and pulls out a plastic mask attached to a kid sized ski mask. “Oh, cool! She did a good job, it’s JUST like his mask! Oh I LOVE the cape!” She yells, pulling the cloth out. She then notices James is wearing a black sweatshirt and black sweatpants. “OH! Is THAT why you’re wearing all black?” “Yeah, my foster mother thought it would be easier to get my costume on if I don’t have to change everything.” He then looks over her shoulder and sees Chris walking towards them in neon colors. “Chris, what are you dressed as? An eyesore?” James says, laughing. “No! I’m one of the Rockers, man! The best tag team in wrestling!” “No one's gonna know who you even ARE!” James says, laughing.

Miss Ferguson comes in, dressed as a classic witch as the other kids run into the room in various costumes. One kid is in a flannel shirt and blood spattered hockey mask. Another is in a flesh colored shirt with a torn yellow shirt over it. One is in a matching green sweatshirt and pants with torn purple pants. Others sport various vinyl, store bought costume smocks.

“Happy Halloween, everyone! Is everyone excited for the Halloween parade?” The class yells in unison, everyone full of excitement. “You all will get to show off all of your costumes to the higher grades, going into each classroom, won’t that be FUN?” the excited teacher says. The class all yell in unison again. That is, all but James. The idea of being around the older kids in his costume just makes his insecurities arise once more. He can see them mocking him, tugging at his cape or pulling at his mask. And what if he trips? Oh, the very idea of embarrassing himself just makes him so anxious. 

James is putting on his cape and gloves, nervous about this parade. All through the day he tried distracting himself, but he can’t help but think of how the older kids might treat him. He slowly puts the mask on and attaches the velcro to the cape, and finishes with his belt. He feels less like his favorite hero, and more like a helpless victim his hero would save. 

“Alright everyone” Miss Ferguson calls out, “we are going to line up single file, no shoving and I will lead you to the first grade classrooms, on up to the fourth graders. Won’t this be EXCITING?” the teacher enthusiastically says. She is genuinely as thrilled for this as some of the kids are. The kids scurry to line up, all thrilled to show off their costumes. Joel lifts a plastic zombie mask and calls out to his teacher.

“Miss Furnison?” “Ferguson, Joel. For the millionth time, Ferguson. Do you need something?” “We gonna get candy at this parade? I’m really hungry!” “We just had lunch, Joel. And you’ll get PLENTY of candy tonight when you trick-or-treat.” she tells him.

The parade goes much better than James expected. At least at first, anyway. James got lots of compliments from the first and second graders. “Love the cape!” some kids genuinely tell him. “You look so cool!” Others say. “The ROCKERS?!” one kid is heard telling Chris. “No one will EVER remember them. ESPECIALLY that blond one!” the kid says. “The Rockers are the best wrestlers EVER!” Chris defiantly says. 

The third graders weren’t any rougher to deal with, and were pretty enthusiastic themselves. Just one more grade of classes, the fourth graders, and James would be free of this event without feeling humiliated. Nothing to worry about at all now, he tells himself. And sure enough, that first fourth grade class was not only praising these young kindergarteners' costumes, but they were already dressed up as well. James even saw a boy in his own Batman costume, bright blue and gray garbed. Another boy was dressed as the Joker.

The next class, James and his classmates enthusiastically enter, and immediately the teasing and taunting starts. “Look at that!” One kid shouts, pointing at a kindergartener in green and purple. “A midget Hulk!” causing the class to laugh. “Now, now, let’s be nice to the kindergarten class!” their teacher scolds, but to no avail. One girl motions to Mel, and taunts “Are you going to wax on, wax off?” WHATEVER that meant. James sure didn’t know. One boy, looking much too large to be a fourth grader, sets his sights on James, with his cape flapping behind him as he marches around the room. 

“Look, Batman in sweatpants!” the kid yells, pointing at James. “Go on and flap that cape, bootleg Batman!” his rat faced friend bellows. “Looks like mommy just gave him a cheap blanket to wear!” the larger boy replies. James feels humiliated, and wishes he could just disappear after the insults. His classmates shrug off the insults, even if they’re a bit upset. But James, oh poor James can’t shake the insults, as mild and harmless as they may have been.

Night falls, and it’s time to trick or treat. Mel’s parents arrive to get James, to the indifference of his foster parents. “I’ll make sure he isn’t out too late!” Mel’s mother tells them. His foster parents merely shrug, as if the young boy’s absence is a blessing to them. Despite James protesting and begging, not a SHRED of Halloween decor adorns the home. “Someone might steal it.” His foster mother says, flatly. When James argues that nothing was stolen the previous year, his foster father chimes in. “Sounds to me like James doesn’t want to be a good boy and get to trick or treat with his friends.” the man says sternly.

The boy had dropped the subject, not wanting to have his night ruined. But, how peculiar this lone house looks in comparison to the others. Every house is decorated with cheap skeletons, vinyl gravestones and other props. Some, even going above and beyond, made scarecrows and put various costumes on them. Kids are running the streets in excitement, with their parents struggling to keep up.

James steps down his porch in his costume, cape billowing behind him.”I love your costume, James!” Mel’s mom tells him sincerely. “Thank you so much, ma’am!” he tells her. Mel now has fake blood on her face and a plastic ninja star sticking out of a putty forehead. She has to be careful not to get the blood on her uniform, it’s her actual uniform for class. The two carry pillow cases and make their way to the first house on their stop.

Two glowing plastic jack-o-lanterns sit at the top of the wooden porch, as a young married couple are dressed in cheap vampire costumes. The father tries, and fails, to do his best Bela Lugosi impression when greeting the kids. “Ah, yes!” the father says, “more BLOOD to feed on!” followed by a hiss, causing his plastic fangs to fall out. They clank and bounce on the wooden porch. “I told you to use that adhesive stuff.” the vampire wife tells him. “That stuff takes FOREVER to get off my teeth!” the husband protests.

The wife shakes her head and picks up the overflowing candy bowl. “Trick-or-treat!” Mel bellows, followed by a still snickering James. “Hope you kids like nougat bars!” she tells them, dropping a full size chocolate bar in each of their pillow cases. “Thank you!” James and Mel say, in unison. The pair make their way through the neighborhood, starting with the next house.

The kids have an absolute blast trick-or-treating together, and seeing all of the different houses decorated. Not to mention, they love that their pillowcases are filling up. It’s to the point they have to drag the cases along. They approach one house that is decorated to the point it looks more akin to something out of a movie. Sound effects blare from large speakers, and coffins are sitting through the yard. Realistic tombstones sit at various points in the yard, and hands stick out of various graves.

James, a lover of the holiday, is in awe. Anything spooky has always drawn his interest. Mouth agape, he can’t help but hope for a yard like this when he becomes an adult. He and Mel walk through the yard to the porch, eyeing the incredible display. Unbeknownst to the kids, a coffin lid swings open. A chainsaw revs up, startling the kids. The two whirl around and see a man in a flannel shirt and jeans, face covered by a glowing hockey mask. He wields the rusty chainsaw, revving it several times before he sprints after the two. Mel screams, and James is too terrified to make a sound.

The children bolt for the porch, and the maniac dashes after them. The pair stumble up the stairs as a woman with a meat cleaver in her head greets them with candy. The kids look at the bloody woman and shriek. The man with the chainsaw lets out a few chuckles as he lowers the weapon. Lifting his mask, he reveals himself as their neighbor, Dave Baker. “I didn’t think you kids would be THIS scared!” “I knew it was you the whole time!” a still frightened James says. “You did NOT!” a pale Mel says.

Leaving the Baker house, the two glance back and see Mr. Baker terrify another group of kids. Three of them flee the yard without even getting their candy. One kid can’t even move and wets themself. Then, James sees the two fourth graders that taunted him that afternoon, walking up to the house. The larger one is dressed in a mechanic jumpsuit, carrying some strange white mask in his hands. The other has a green and red striped shirt and brown hat.

Mr. Baker leaps out of the coffin, revving the chainsaw. The larger boy bursts into tears immediately, while the other hides behind a gravestone, calling for his mother. This humiliation gives James a bit of satisfaction. A grin crawls across his face underneath his mask, seeing these two jerks act so terrified.

After a long, adventurous night, James leaves his final house. Oh, if he could only do this forever. He’s had so much fun with Mel and her mom. He dreads going back home after this, as his foster parents ALWAYS seem to find a way to dampen his night. “Can James come over for a little and go over our candy together?” Mel asks eagerly. “We told James’s foster parents we wouldn’t keep him out too late, remember?” her mother replies. Mel is a bit disappointed, but not as much as James.

They arrive at his home, and see his foster parents outside cleaning up a rather large mess. “What happened here?” Mel’s mother asks, running up the sidewalk. Eggshells and yoke are splattered on the house along with globs of shaving cream. Toilet paper is thrown over the garage and bushes. James’s stepfather glares at the young boy as he sees the child approach with his friend. “Some punk kids did this because we weren’t giving out candy.

“Why would kids do this just because you weren’t giving out?” Mel’s mother asks, absolutely baffled. “Because we just HAD to leave the porch light on for James. Cause we just can’t RISK this child hurting himself climbing up stairs.” The foster mother spits out as she glares at the boy. James just knows he’s in for it when they get inside the house. This isn’t his fault, but his foster parents are surely making it out to be.

“You can’t be making this out to be the kid’s fault!” Mel’s mother barks. “This is the fault of the kids that did this! Not in any way something you should punish James for!” She continues as she tries to defend the small boy. “We’ll handle the parenting of our child, thank you very much!” James’s foster father barks, as he throws a trash bag down. “James shouldn't get in trouble for this!” Mel pleads. “Mom, can James stay over tonight?”

James’s foster parents glare at the child and her mother, making Mel’s mother pull her away from the angered adults. “No, since you guys have school tomorrow, we have to let James stay at his house.” Mel looks at her mom, face full of worry. “But mom,” she whispers, eyes full of worry for her friend. Mel’s mother shakes her head at her daughter, before turning her attention back to James’s foster parents. 

“Look, it’s unfair to James to even insinuate he is somehow to blame for this mess! Even if you had to put the porch light on for him, it still is the fault of whoever did this. James is just a five year old boy and doesn’t deserve to be treated this way!” James’s foster father grabs his arm and yanks him away, making him nearly drop his bag of candy. “We’ll take that under advisement!” the stepfather says, full of sarcasm. 

“Now if you’ll excuse us, we would like to speak to our foster son. ALONE!” the man continues, as he and his wife storm towards their porch. “Mom, is James going to be ok?” Mel asks the woman. “I’m sure he will be alright” her mother tells her, not completely convincing even herself. “Just give his parents some time, I’m sure they will come to their senses.” the woman continues. 

This sounds incredibly familiar to Mel. She’s said similar things before about James’s foster parents. Always trying to look for the best in them, but now, more than ever, she’s unsure of how these people will treat her friend. If only she can get her friend away from these people. But she’s just a child. What could SHE possibly do?

James sits in the living room, his bright red hair matted to his forehead from all the sweating he did in his costume. His foster father stands before him, sleeves rolled up. “I am VERY disappointed in you, James.” the man says, full of anger. “We let you go out and have fun, and look what happens!” the man continues. James looks at the man, scared and bewildered. “I didn’t do-” “Don’t you EVER talk back to me! We took you into our home and spoiled you, and in return what do we get? NOTHING but irresponsibility, recklessness and now our house getting vandalized!” the man shouts, startling the already afraid boy.

“We have done SO much for you, and you’ve just made our lives so much harder. If we didn’t have to leave that stupid porch light on for you, our house wouldn’t have gotten vandalized.” Poor James hangs his head in shame, believing his foster father is right, that what happened this night IS his fault. “All so you could get some worthless candy. I don’t think you deserve ANY of that junk, not after what happened tonight.” 

The man grabs James’s pillow case and hands it to the foster mother. “What should we do with this trash?” she asks him. “Just dump it in the garbage. The WHOLE thing, pillow case included. NOW we have to buy a new bed set because of you. Always ruining EVERYTHING.” the man continues, as the foster mother takes the candy away. A loud *CLANG* is heard as she dumps the entire package into a metal garbage can outside.

James later lays in bed, wondering how he can ever get his foster parent’s love and appreciation. How does he keep causing them problems? Why is everything his fault? The little boy continues feeling more sorrow and guilt than he ever should, and he squeezes his dampened eyes closed. All he wants is for them to love him.