Prologue

Silver hated it. He hated living in this house and he hated his aunt and uncle. He slowly opened the door to his uncle's closet that he was forced to sit in. He cringed at the loud squeak it gave, thinking it would wake his uncle, and then he wouldn't be fed that night again. Fortunately, his uncle was in a drunken-sleep in his bed.

Silver was young, but he wasn't an idiot. He knew this wasn't how any 7-8 year old was supposed to live. Or maybe he was already 10.

How old was he again? He'd forgotten his own birthday.

Not only did that mean he didn't know how old he was, he also can't seem to remember when his parents died.

When they were murdered.

Silver took a breath and then risked his way out of the man's bedroom. He had to get out, he couldn't live here anymore and if he didn't get out before his aunt came home, he'd lose his chance for another week or so.

That's what happened last time, he chickened out. He got to the door and then his body wouldn't move. He stood there until Aunt Bell came home, figured out what he was doing, and then got his drunk uncle to beat him

But that wasn't going to happen this time. He wouldn't let it.

He didn't really have a plan, only some grey tennis shoes and a thought in his mind. By the time he managed to open the front door, he really knew he was in trouble.

Silver realized he lived in the middle of literally nowhere. There, in front of his house, was a black tar road and barely anything else. The only thing he could see a little gas station about a block away from where he stood on the other side of the street. The sign on the gas station read Eleven 7... or was it 7 Eleven, he wasn't sure.

Since there were no cars crossing at this time, he walked across the street briskly and headed toward the 7-Eleven. There were only three cars there, and they were all in the parking lot, not getting a refill.

Silver thought to himself helplessly. Perhaps the cashier will take pity on him and at least give him someplace to go. Maybe there was a shelter or something nearby.

He walked in and looked around. There he saw a giant of a man arguing with the cashier. Except the cashier looked to be laughing.

The man was a burly looking white man with a bushy red beard. The man reminded Silver of a lumberjack, with his large jeans and red and black flannel.

"Just give me the card, James, I swear it's the winning one!" The lumberjack was complaining to the blonde cashier, James.

"Borris, you old fart, go to another place," The cashier, James, said between laughs, "I'm gonna break this superstition of yours."

"My grandpa won the lotto from a ticket from here and I'ma win one here too!" Boris boomed, "Now gimme dat ticket!"

"I have other customers," The cashier laughed, turning to the boy standing in the doorway, "How can I help you, little man?"

The lumberjack named Boris turned around and his eyes widened, "Hell, you look lost, son. You looking for someone?"

The boy shook his head, "I ran away from home."

"Ran away from home?" Boris walked over to the boy and knelt down to be almost at eye-level, "Why'd you run away?"

"Auntie's gone, so I ran away. I don't wanna be there no mores," he said simply.

"Where ya' from?"

The little boy just pointed behind him, to the only sad house across the street. It was average size and looked normal on the outside.

"I see, and you don't wanna go back, huh?" Boris asked the boy shook his head.

"I know that house, I don't know the people in it, but I know the house," said James, the cashier, "It's quiet and the only one that comes out is the woman, his mom I'm guessing. She brings back booze and other men almost every night. I didn't think those people had children," Silver wanted to interject and tell James that those people aren't and wouldn't ever be his mother and father, but decided against it.

"Do you have any siblings?" Boris looked back to the boy, who shook his head, "You're homeschooled I'm guessing?"

He started nodding but then stopped, "Uncle stopped teaching me a few weeks ago. Said he didn't want to no more."

"Is that so? Hm," Boris had a somber look on his face, "What is your name, boy?"

"Silver. Silver Chase," he answered, looking down. He wasn't sure if he should talk to these people. They were large and loud and the exact opposite of Silver.

"Well Silver, I got a big house and a lot of boy and girls at my place," The big man was silent for a second before adding with a grin, " That sounded weird. What I meant was: would you like to stay with me for a while? You're welcome to leave or even decline if you want."

Silver didn't know what 'decline' meant, but he didn't ask about it. Instead, he looked to James, the cashier. The cashier smiled at him and nodded. And then at that moment, for some reason, Silver started crying.

He threw his arms around the big man named Boris and sobbed. Boris laughed sadly at his cuteness and scooped him up in his arms.

"James, gimme a lotto ticket!" He beamed, "I just got a new son!"