Part of the Family

I shouldn’t be here.

It’s the stubborn thought that hasn’t left my mind for the past month. 

One month since the family of my dreams caught a glimpse of me outside their window and invited me inside. Bram, Lori, and Nell.

Bram, with his strong and gentle fatherly spirit. Lori, who’s made me dinner every single night.

And Nell. With her auburn hair and sea-green eyes that make me feel like she can see right through me, with the shy smile that sends my heart racing. 

I’ve been trying, I really have, but it’s become evident that I don’t belong here. 

These three are two good for me, even Nell. Especially Nell.

It’s been a good month, but I can’t keep dragging them down like this. The freezing streets are calling me back to where I came from, the deepest shadows in the corner of that dark alley. 

Like I told myself when I first looked through a certain window, into this house: there’s two worlds. The inside world, warm with a yellow glow, and the outside, dark with a perpetual chill. 

I belong to one of them, and it’s not the first. 

I realized it when I came back here after running off for the third time. It wasn’t actually running off—I was just making my weekly visit to the five windows around town, the ones that I keep returning to as a reminder of my old life—but I wasn’t about to tell Bram that. He would pity me.

I didn’t want pity.

So I hesitated when I opened the door to find him leaning against the wall, giving me a once-over.

“Where did you go this time?”

“Nowhere,” I mumbled.

His eyes came to rest on my tattered hunter-green windbreaker over my shoulders. I hadn’t realized I’d put it on.

“That jacket must be special to you, if you’re still wearing it in that condition.”

I nodded. The look in his eyes was begging me to explain where I kept going, why I kept bringing the torn windbreaker with me, what had brought me here in the first place, but I had no intention of doing so. 

He wouldn’t understand. None of them would. And I didn’t want them to abandon me like everyone else had, which they would surely do if they knew just how broken I was. 

Bram sighed at my lack of elaboration. “You’re not planning on telling me anything, are you, kid?”

I shook my head slightly. He put a hand on my shoulder, but I could read past the facade. He was disappointed. In me. Anyone would be—I’m me.

That’s when it started. Soon, despite their kindness, I found myself drowning in my secrets, drowning in my past.

I can’t escape the feeling.

Which is why I have to get out.

I ease myself to my feet, careful not to make too much noise. I could be sleeping on the plush bed in my room, but I’ve gotten too used to the floor.

The sinking of the mattress only worsens that drowning feeling.

I find the tiny notepad and pencil I keep in my drawer and scribble out a quick note.

I’m sorry, and I know this is abrupt, but I have to leave.

It’s nothing against you all—this has been the best month of my life. It’s me. I know I’ve been nothing but a burden, and I’m really sorry about that, too. Don’t worry—by the time you read this, I’ll be gone.

Thank you for your hospitality, and for being like the family I never had. I’ll miss you all, but it’s better this way. 

Sincerely, Caleb Murphy

 I take a deep breath. 

No second thoughts.

I fold the note, grab my windbreaker and my tennis shoes, and set the note on the kitchen counter on my way out.

A gust of wind greets me the moment I step out the door, but the familiarity doesn’t bring a smile to my face. 

I have to find somewhere to go. Not my old house, the one with all of the painful memories. I can’t go back there.

The alley. The one where I had a week’s worth of canned food stored up, at least before the Nelsons took me in. 

I set off at a steady jog. Something weighted in my pocket bounces with every step, and I pause to see what it is. 

A few loose coins. Lori gave them to me only weeks ago.

“For allowance,” she said.

I raised my eyebrow. “I didn’t do anything.”

“You helped me with dishes,” Nell said with a grin, tucking her auburn hair behind her ear.

“And helped me with dinner,” Lori said, dropping the change into my pocket. 

“You shouldn’t pay me for that. You’re letting me live in your house, for goodness’ sakes!” I protested. 

“You’re part of the family now, Caleb,” Lori said, turning to leave. “And don’t even think about trying to give that back!” she called over her shoulder.

Nell gave me a soft smile after she’d left.

“What?” I asked, tucking my clammy palms into my pockets.

She shook her head. “I don’t get you.”

“There’s not much to get.”

She tilted her head. “I don’t know. Something tells me there’s more to you than meets the eye.”

I didn’t have a response.

“How’d you end up on the streets, anyways?”

“It’s complicated.”

“I have time. Unless that was your way of saying you don’t want to talk about it, in which case we can change the topic.”

“Second option.” 

Nell, of all people, didn’t need to know about my troubled past. How even the people who were supposed to love me left me in the dust.

Nell shrugged. “Alright. But if you ever need someone to talk to who isn’t Mom or Dad, you’ve got me.”

I glanced at her gratefully. “Thanks, Nell.”

She smiled. “No problem. I’m just hoping one day you’ll tell me your story, Caleb Murphy.”

Nell won’t get that story anytime soon, or ever, considering I’m not going back. 

When I find my alley, my stash of food is gone. A curse slips out under my breath as I slide my father’s windbreaker over my shoulders. I’m going to have to get more, and it would be best to do it before I’m weak from hunger. 

It’s not like I had any other plans for tonight. 

There’s a supermarket a few blocks down, one that I’ve made midnight visits to so many times I’ve lost count. I can take a pot and some canned soup, and maybe a lighter to warm it up. 

I sigh. Just like the old days. Not a prospect I’m excited about, but better than going back to the Nelsons, disappointing them, and being abandoned again.

I reach the supermarket in less than fifteen minutes, but immediately duck back into the shadows when I see the scene outside the back entrance. 

A group of five. They look about my age, but the clothes, tattoos, and constant frowns give me the feeling that they would gladly rip my head off if given the chance.

I risk a peek around the building. From the boy crouching in front of the door, fiddling with the handle, it looks like they have the same mission as me: get in, grab what we need, and get out with nobody the wiser.

This just got a whole lot more complicated.

I’ll be fine, I tell myself as my stomach turns. I’ve dealt with worse. All I have to do is follow them in unnoticed and lose myself among the tall shelves until they’re gone. 

Easy. 

The group finally unlocks the door and, glancing around warily, slips inside. I dart out from my hiding place and make it through right before the door closes.

It makes too much noise for comfort and I wince before ducking into the nearest aisle.

I can hear the whispers of the others on the aisle next to me.

“I told you to shut the door quietly!” one hisses.

“I’m sorry, I’ve never done this before!”

“Exactly why you shouldn’t have come! This isn’t amateur hour!”

“Guys,” a third voice cut in. “Let’s just get the stuff and get out of here.”

Now’s my chance.

I make my way across the store, to the canned food aisle. Darting between aisles, unseen, unheard by the five who are only paces away at times. 

I’ll be fine. Just grab the soup and go. 

I pause in front of the cans, breathing heavily. I’m out of practice after a month with the Nelsons.

I fight the image of Nell’s sea-green eyes as I reach for some Campbell’s tomato soup. Always good, basically never expires. Perfect for a night—no, for the rest of my life—out on the streets.

“Hey!” The shout comes from behind me and I whirl around.

One of the boys is standing face-to-face with me, barely two steps away and brandishing what looks like some kind of pipe.

I swallow hard and bolt, leaving the soup behind.

“Get him!” someone yells. 

My feet pound harder, but it’s no use. Two of them appear in front of me and two cover the aisle to my right, leaving me no option but to spin and head back towards where I was. 

I don’t even take a full step before running head-on into the one with the pipe. He doesn’t budge as I stumble back, head pounding from the collision.

I lock eyes with him and he gives a wicked grin. “Trying to steal from our supplier, are you?”

I don’t respond and he lands a punch on my jaw.

I step back, one hand reaching up to my face. There’ll be a bruise there tomorrow, for sure.

If I even live to see tomorrow.

The boy must guess what I’m thinking, because he adjusts his grip on his pipe. “Lights out.”

I don’t have time to brace for the hit that comes when he swings his pipe. It connects full-force with my stomach, knocking the air out of me. More hits come, from all directions and all of my attackers, and I drop to the tile floor with a groan. A coppery tang coats my tongue and I can smell blood, but I don’t know where it’s coming from. 

Everything hurts as hit after hit lands on my curled body. I can’t do anything but clench my eyes and just wait it out.

Something sharp pierces my side and I yelp.

“You idiot!” one of them hisses, the beating momentarily stopped. I barely manage to roll onto my stomach, protecting my more vulnerable side. 

“I don’t know what happened! There must’ve been a nail in my pipe or something.”

“Now we’re going to have to clean this up! If we leave him here with a stab wound someone’ll trace it back to us!”

Someone kicks me, the same spot the nail or whatever it was went in, and I groan.

“Get up, boy.”

I don’t respond. I can’t move.

Another kick. “I said get up!”

A soft moan is all I have in response.

He huffs out a frustrated breath. “Fine. We’ll just drop him in the middle of the woods or something. I don’t think anyone would care if we killed him, but better safe than sorry when it comes to murder. He’ll die in the woods, anyway, in this condition.”

Rough hands grab me and drag me outside, where one of them slings me over his shoulder. I can’t even muster the energy to groan.

Everything hurts, and I can feel a warm wetness spreading from the wound in my side. Whatever stabbed me was much more than a simple nail.

They jog for a few miles, into the cover of the trees, and drop me there, then leave.

I can’t move, can’t open my eyes.

Nell.

I miss her, right about now.

But it’s for the better, I manage to convince myself. They’re better off without me. 

Footsteps interrupt my thoughts as my consciousness begins to fade. 

“Caleb!”

I try to raise my head, try to pry my eyes open, but I can’t.

The pain overtakes me and my world goes black.

I jolt awake, chest heaving, wild eyes darting around.

How am I alive?

The footsteps, before blacking out.

The shout. 

Someone found me.

“He’s alive!” a voice shouts.

Frantic, I try to sit up, but hands hold me down. 

“Where am I? What happened?”

“Easy, easy. Take a breath. You’re okay.”

I fight harder. “No—I need to—”

“Hey. Lay down. You’re hurt.”

My gaze finally comes to rest on my savior and my eyes widen.

“Nell?” I whisper hoarsely.

“There you go. Relax. You’re okay.” She eases me back down onto the couch. 

I’m back in the Nelson’s living room. 

“No,” I rasp. “I have to go.”

“I read your note,” she says quietly. I nod.

“I have to go,” I repeat.

“No, you don’t.”

“I’m nothing but a burden.” I gesture weakly at the bandages around my torso to prove my point.

“Do you really think that?” Nell asks.

Bram bursts into the room before I can respond. 

“Thank goodness,” he mutters, crouching next to Nell. “How are you feeling?”

I shrug, wincing. “Good enough to leave, if that’s what you’re asking.”

He shakes his head slowly. “I can’t believe you, kid.”

I don’t say anything.

“Caleb,” Nell starts, “you’re part of the family. We like having you here. We need you here.”

Her eyes lock on mine, pleading with me to understand. Something tells me she’s saying more with that look than she did out loud.

Bram nods. “She’s right, you know. And you’re not going anywhere in your condition, anyways.”

I gingerly trace a finger along the bandage at my side. “How long was I out?”

“Two days.”

“Two days?!” I try to sit up again, but Nell holds me down. “You’ve been taking care of me for two days?”

“Of course.”

“Why?”

“How many times do I have to tell you this? You’re one of us. We’re not just going to leave you to die in the woods.”

“You should’ve.”

“Wrong. And you’re gonna have to get that attitude out of your head, kid, because you’re not going anywhere.”

I open my mouth to protest, but stop.

They want me. 

They saved my life. 

And they weren’t planning on abandoning me anytime soon, not like everyone else. 

“Okay,” I whispered.

Bram grinned and Nell gave me her trademark smile. 

“Let me get you some water.” Bram stood and disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Nell and I alone. 

“I’m glad you’re staying,” she said softly.

“Yeah, me too.”

“Why did you go?”

I shrug. “None of you know where I came from and I figured if you did…you’d kick me out anyways.”

“We would never. Unless you’re secretly one of Mrs. Patty’s kids, in which case you’re free to go, but you’re too nice to be one of them.”

A grin tugs at my lips. “Thanks.”

Nell just nods. “It’s true.”

A few beats of silence. 

“Mom should be home soon,” Nell finally said. “She was out getting groceries.”

My eyes widen as a thought strikes me. 

“My windbreaker,” I say.

Nell raises an eyebrow.

“Where is it?”

I sit up, and this time Nell doesn’t stop me. “I don’t know,” she responds. “You weren’t wearing it when you got back.”

It’s probably torn to shreds somewhere in the middle of the woods, or in the streets I used to call my prison. 

The one material thing I had left from my old life. Gone. 

In a way, it makes sense. I’m not going back to my past now—Nell and Bram and Lori made sure of that. It’s only fitting for the constant reminder of where I came from to be gone.

But I’ll miss it.

“I’m sorry, Caleb,” Nell says quietly. “I know it meant a lot to you.”

“It’s fine. Really,” I add when I catch the look she gives me. “It was mostly a reminder of where I came from—where I belonged. But I guess I belong here now, so…it’s okay.”

Nell smiles. “I would love to hear that story you keep refusing to tell me sometime.”

“You will,” I promise.

“And you’re not leaving again?”

I shake my head. 

This is my home now.