'I wish I had listened'
He woke up to the sound of crashing rain against the barred window. He remembered where he was just by sniffing the air, even before opening his eyes. Throwing his bed sheet off, he jumped to the ground and rummaged under the bed until his fingers clasped around what he had been looking for. He pulled the shoebox out and sat back down on the bed, thinking just how small the shoebox looked. How could something so small, hold 18 years worth of memories? He pulled the lid off and looked down at his life. He stood up and emptied the contents onto the bed, spreading it all out. His eyes were drawn to the piece of paper that held the worst memory of all. The one that had marked the beginning of his new life. It had a headline in powerful, bold writing – ‘The Boy Who Lives’. He had never liked Harry Potter. It continued with the article that described the car crash in which his parents had been killed. Odd thing is, that by ‘crash’ they were not talking about the normal car-run into-car. They were talking about the faulty crane dropping its heavy load and it crash-landing on his parents’ car. He had been in the back seat and miraculously managed to survive. A wave of anger coursed through him and he tore the article to pieces, sprinkling the white fragments, like drops of snow, onto the white floor. He turned his attention back to the bed. There was a form which he remembered never filling out. ‘Fox Courts Community Living Centre – Application Form for Foster Home.’ His first day at Fox Courts had been a sunny one. Jennifer Cormier, his carer, had shown him around the place. When she had dropped him off at his room, she had said to him ‘If ya ever need anything, gimme a shout yeah? It’s not easy adjusting,’ before winking and leaving him to his thoughts. She had given him the form two days later and he had promised to fill it out. The first of many promises that he had never come through for. He threw the form away and knelt down beside the bed. He picked up