"It's fine. I don't need him anyways. I don't need any of them."
Anger had its claws dug into him as he bandaged his hand and surveyed the damage of his rage. A broken lamp, his bookshelf now had a ding in it and he'd need to replace the wood in the windowsill- again.
It was minor compared to the fit he'd had months before, the one that had him sat at Roger's desk being given the very real fact that he was a couple more bad days away from being removed from not just the program but the orphanage itself. Shipped back to a cold, lifeless home in a country where no one knew he even existed.
Tanner's upper lip curled in disgust at the thought. He'd rather crawl into bed with cockroaches than have to sift through all the belongings behind the closed doors of that old house and the memories that came with it.
He'd have to try and pin it on someone else. Whether his room mate or another teen, it didn't matter.
His focus quickly shifted from the mess before him to the door behind when its old wood grunted at the push of another, swinging open.
He whipped around, ready to use his aching hands to cause more problems for himself without another thought only to find he was staring down the form of the odd blonde girl.
He still couldn't wrap his mind around why she bothered with speaking to him. She kept saying he was nice, but she was wrong. He could show her how awful he really was...
Yet he didn't have the heart to, at least not with her standing there looking at him with those sad fairytale eyes.
