This House Is Not a Home (Scomiche) (Troyler)

Chapter 1 - Lights

This is going to be a very long chapter, as will the other chapters probably. I'm not sure how long this story will turn out to be, but I hope you guys don't mind the huge chapters. If it's too much don't be afraid to let me know. <3

Please vote and comment <3 :D

PS You can probably guess who is who. The others maybe not. Some are made up and others aren't. Feel free to guess ;)

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The sun broke through my bedroom window harshly. I groaned and covered my face with the blanket before I heard footsteps start coming towards my room. I peeked out from underneath the blanket to see a boy walk by my room in a dress shirt and trousers.

Why is he dressed up at 5 in the morning?

Next thing I knew, a bell started ringing downstairs and I rolled my eyes. It was time to get up and clean, just like every house that I had been at. This was the worst time of the day, but I was always quick. Then I could go outside and explore my new found territory. I jumped out of bed and got dressed before I turned out of my bedroom and to the stairs. The green velvet staircase was accompanied by dark wood railings that shined as if they were brand new. This was the nicest orphanage I'd been in, I'll give it that.

"Oh good, you're awake." I heard from the living room as I reached the bottom of the stairs. Over to the right of me was a large living room. Mrs. Hemingway, the head of the orphanage, sat on the sofa with a cup of hot tea pressed to her lips. She held the tea dish with her other hand underneath the cup. The dishes were white and gold with pink roses painted onto them. This woman had to be absolutely loaded with money. Why was she running an orphanage?

She placed down her drink and stood from the couch. She smoothed out her suit skirt and matching blazer before coming over to me. Her hair was colored dark brown and her eyebrows were drawn in horribly. As she got closer, I realized she was wearing fake eyelashes and had on a blinding shade of pink lipstick. "What's your name again?"

I furrowed my eyebrow. "Mitch Grassi."

"Oh, right. Mitchell." She sighed and brought a hand up to play with her earring. "New boy...I'm sending you to clean the basement. Get rid of cobwebs and organize all the junk that's down there." She pointed a perfectly manicured finger in my face. "Do NOT going through any of the boxes, do you understand me?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good. Now get going." She sat back onto the couch and picked up her teacup again. "I have a meeting starting in five minutes. Shoo!" She swatted her hand towards the kitchen.

As stuck up as she was, she was far from the worst director I had to deal with. Miss Wescott was the most terrible woman I had ever met in my entire life. She absolutely loathed me because of my sexuality and made sure that I always had the worst jobs on her farm. It was my jobs to clean up the animals' shit every single day for 10 hours straight. She would start saying prayers around me and would even splatter holy water on my bed while I wasn't in my room. Now, I wasn't a quiet person, ever, but in that house I didn't say a word. I just did what I had to do before she caught me with a boy in my bedroom. Then I was kicked out after only being there for five months. It was for the better though, because my next house wasn't as bad, but that's when the streak started in those short two years. I just couldn't stop getting in trouble.

The basement door had a cross hanging on it, bringing back a scary feeling from my time at the Wescott Orphanage for Boys. The boy I fell for back then was a player, but he fell for me because I never put up with his crap. I felt so accomplished when I finally saw him weak around me. I got such a rise out of it and I was honestly itching to feel that again, but I hadn't even seen any of the other boys here. I wanted to know what I was up against so I could sniff out my prey.