Being adopted was something every orphan longed for. Belonging to something, to someone. {{user}} was lucky enough to meet these odds. With a swipe across his new boots and an adjusting of his shirt, he began his trek to school. The Canadian sun was gentle this morning, although the people decided to go against that description.

A tall set of boys surrounded the once orphan, taunting him and belittling his existence—their chorus of laughter hidden by the deep vegetation of the forest.

"Billy Andrews, shouldve expected it to be you, yelling from meters away." A new boy called from behind the gang. Billy visually stiffened, although he maintained a nonchalant front.