And Oliver was introduced. He met all of them.
Red, the first boy. His name had obviously come from the bright red head of hair he had. When the orphanage was the one to name you, you often got names like this.
He had been in since he was little and escaped when he was fourteen. Now he was sixteen. The escape had been a complete accident.
Red had a friend who had gone crazy from being in the orphanage. Completely crazy. The guards hadn’t liked this, so one of them hit him.
That just sent his friend over the edge. That night he’d gotten out of bed after hours, a time where no sane person would be up.
And he’d stolen a lighter. And lit the bed of the gaurd on fire.
The fire had spread, burning hot and quick. And when Red, who had an exceptionally sensative nose, smelled smoke, he ran.
By the time he’d gotten out of bed those sleeping in closer quarters with guards already had rooms alight and were running as fast as they could.
Red ran, too, leaving the place behind.