Shattered Windows and the Sound of Drums [open]

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Shattered windows and the sound of drums

Ayden Smith

Ayden, to be honest, loved it here at camp. He knew he didn't belong, because he didn't belong anywhere. Not in the orphanage he was raised in, not in the streets of Chicago where he fought for money, not even on the lonely country roads which he traveled with only clothes on his back and a knapsack in which he kept food and water. Ayden knew he didn't belong at camp either, but it was the closest place to home he'd ever get, and so he was content. He'd been here about three years now, and while he had made some friends, Ayden was pretty much a loner. That didn't matter to him, he was a loner everywhere he went. There was always going to be someone better than Ayden, and they always came along and stole the spotlight. Besides, who'd want to talk to freak boy, right? The one who spoke in riddles all the time? It wasn't Ayden's fault he could tell the future...

The wind ruffled his already messy brown hair. Ayden had a grey hat with a white star etched into the cap on that covered his ears, but it did little to hold back the untamable bangs that he was born with. He didn't mind, he liked his hair just the way it was. And so while he stood there, running his hands through his hair that stuck out, he smiled. It was amazing Ayden still smiled after all he'd been through as a child and young teenager. But the eighteen year old still found a reason to grin everyday, no matter how bleak the situation seemed that he was stuck in. You couldn't live your life moping around and feeling sorry for yourself. Ayden learned that a long time ago.