Chapter Text
Keith had been living in his newest foster home for less than three months, he figured this would be his longest stay. The old woman that took care of him could only care for one child at a time, that left him alone with her most days. He didn't mind. He preferred the solitude of living with her over the constant fighting with the other children. A mix of children with no boundaries and Keith’s own fiery temper had gotten him kicked out of his last two homes.
But he felt that this place was okay at least. The woman fed him three times a day, let him read her dusty books, and gave him a bed to sleep on. That was a large improvement from his first home anyway. The only problem was that he felt caged in, the woman for all her distancing seemed to follow him throughout the house. She'd lock him in a room with barred up windows at night and keep the key around her neck. She'd say something about runaways, but Keith didn't believe her. He felt her distrust rolling off of her in waves, she seemed frightened of him. He figured that maybe it had to do with the disaster that seemed to follow him, after all she did seem like a superstitious old bat.
Little mishaps had happened since he'd first arrived. They certainly hadn’t gone unnoticed by the seemingly clueless woman. Things like all the dishes being cleaned after he'd had a particularly rough day because of the kids at school, and yet seconds ago the sink had been overflowing with dirty dishes. Or the time some animal had gotten into the garbage bin in the night leaving all the trash scattered on the lawn. Keith had been so angry at the time because he'd have to be the one to clean it up. Then a heartbeat later the litter had burst into flames. All of this had happened on more than one occasion and in more than one home, it was the main cause of his isolation. The kids called him a freak while the adults became suspicious of him.
It didn't really matter to Keith, at first he'd been confused. Before his mother disappeared she had never acted strangely around him concerning the little incidents that he inevitably created. Instead she'd give him a knowing smile before sending him off to do his homework. He ached thinking about her gentleness. When he was five he’d come home to an empty house, it stayed that way for a week before Keith ran out of things to feed himself. He'd dialed the number his mother had made him memorize, 9-1-1, and asked them if they could bring him a pizza because his mommy hadn’t come home since last tuesday. He still sees the red and blue lights from that night when he closes his eyes.
She'd been a good mother, at least before she'd disappeared. He remembered her being pretty, long flowy black hair, dark gleaming eyes, and a kind smile. Whenever her features started getting fuzzy in his mind, he'd pull out the wrinkled picture of them together that he'd managed to snag before being hauled off by social services. It was one of those portraits taken at the mall with a cheap plain backdrop...but they looked happy. Five year old Keith was pushing his tongue up against his teeth in a smile, and his mother was looking fondly into the camera. He figured he looked like her, same dark hair, same fair skin, same sloped nose. But he only pulled out the picture on rare occasions, he didn't tend to forget, but when he did looking at the picture felt like cheating.
He lay in the springy bed and looked at the old alarm clock on the night stand. It read, 11:59 PM, he blinked, 12:00 AM. He sighed sadly before staring at the ceiling. It was now officially August 25th, he'd turned eleven only seconds ago. Just like every other year he figured that it would be uneventful and forgotten. Not wanting to feel any sadder he decided that he too would pretend it was any other day. He snuggled into his thin blanket and fell asleep. That night he dreamt of a big chocolate cake, with eleven brightly burning candles set in a ring, his mother was presenting it to him. The dream was better than any gift he could've gotten.
He woke in the morning to the lock in his door turning, his door didn't open but Keith knew that he could now roam about the house. The old woman only unlocked the door once she was up, it was a struggle when Keith needed to use the bathroom in the early hours but he could manage.
He slipped his feet onto the cold wood floor before padding out into the hallway. He walked into the kitchen, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes with a fist before the woman was ushering him towards the front door to pick up the mail. He felt like a common pet being made to fetch papers, but he reminded himself it could be worse. He stooped in front of the envelopes that had clearly just been pushed through the slot on the door, and began scanning through them as he made his way back into the kitchen. It wasn't a big deal, the old woman had failing vision, so he read most of her mail out to her. It was just easier to pick out the coupons from the real mail first before reciting them to her.
He almost dropped all the envelopes when he got to the one addressed to him. It was handwritten onto a yellowing thick piece of parchment that was kept closed by a red wax seal. Some kind of unfamiliar sigil was imprinted on it, Keith turned it back around to make sure that it really was addressed to him and it hadn't just been a fluke on his part. But it really was a letter to him, it said To: Keith Kogane.
Before he could tear into it the old woman spoke up, a slight bit of impatience tainting her words, “Well boy?” He quickly caught himself and finished checking the rest of the envelopes. Nothing of interest or importance.
“Nothing.” She mumbled her response before squatting in her chair and topping off her breakfast. Keith wanted nothing more than to open his letter, but he was scared. Who could it be? He didn't have any family or friends? What did the letter say? How'd they know where he was living? “I'm gonna be in my room!”
And with that he was off, his speed almost making him knock into the wall when he turned the corner. With all the grace and finesse of an eleven year old Keith ripped into the thick letter, the contents of which would change his life forever.