But it's okay. I'm tough. I'm like a rock or something. At least I am out of that stupid, stinky orphanage. Even though I have to live with Hank. What a jerk. All he does is sit on his fat butt and yell at me. Except sometimes he hits me too. . .

But I'm tough. I'm a stone wall, and he can't hurt me. But maybe I could hurt him with my powers. I don't think I will though. They're my super secret. I could make his hair go on fire, or make his stupid beer bottles explode, but I won't. I can't let anyone know that I'm different. If they think I'm a freak, then maybe I'll have to live with a worse guy than Hank.

I remember the first family I had. They were pretty cool. I had a brother and a sister for awhile. Paul and Janie. I could almost pretend that they were the two kids out in the desert that day. Until I burned Janie one day. She was teasing me because I couldn't read. I was so mad at her I felt like I could explode, and somehow, the fire just shot out of my hands. It was an accident, but they sent me away forever. They didn't want me anymore because I'm such a terrible person.

The next family I had was bad. Not as bad as Hank, but bad. The guy never paid any attention to me. Why would anyone want to do that anyhow? But he loved my foster sisters. He used to play in the bedroom with them for hours. I was never allowed to play too. The woman wasn't so bad. She was tired a lot. She had to take medicine like a hundred times a day from a needle, and would lay on the couch singing or laughing to herself, like she knew the funniest jokes but never told them. I spent a lot of time alone when I lived with them. Sometimes I wouldn't eat all day because the grown-ups were so busy. But one day, the social workers came to take us all away. I don't think they liked how the guy played with the girls, or the how woman sang, or something. But I had to go away again.

I lived in the orphanage for a long time after that. The bigger boys liked to beat me up. I always fought back with them, but they usually won. I was still too afraid of my powers to really fight, so I ended up with more cuts and bruises then them. But I didn't care. I got to stay in a room away from them all by myself when they hurt me really bad. Sometimes I would lay awake and cry, wishing for a mother to hold me, but I was okay. Mostly though, I wished that I could find those other kids like me. I thought maybe they could show me how to use my powers better so I could really fight back.

When I left the orphanage, I lived with a man and woman. The man would come home from work and yell at the woman for everything, even if nothing was really wrong. He always hit the woman, and sometimes me too, because we were worthless. I told my social worker that he was hurting us. She always said that she would help me if I needed anything. But she didn't help. Not one bit. Because every home I've been sent to since have been worse and worse. Now I don't tell her things. Stupid old Hank can't really hurt me anyways. I'm too tough for him

Anyways, back to this stupid school. I can see everyone from the top of the jungle gym. All those kids with moms and dads and brothers and sisters. . . I wish I were one of them. I can't help looking for the other two kids. If I stayed with them, they would be my family. I wouldn't be alone anymore. I always think that I'm gonna find them standing around looking for me. Did I mention that I'm stupid too? No one waits for me. I'm just stupid old Michael Guerin. But that doesn't mean that anyone else can call me that.

"Hey Jerk Face, get off my jungle gym!" I look down at the boy. He's bigger than me, but that doesn't scare me anymore. I can still beat him up. I'm ready for a good fight.

I jump down to the bottom and stand in front of him. My eyes only go to his chin, but he still doesn't scare me. Michael Guerin isn't afraid of anyone. Michael Guerin is as tough as a rock. "Go away, Monkey Butt! I was here first." I push him down into the dirt.

The dumb boy gets up off the ground, and we start to fight. I'm so mad I don't even feel his punches. I'm so mad I don't even really see him at all. I imagine he is every mean, stupid person who's ever hurt me. I imagine he's my old foster parents, those stupid orphan boys, and that jerk, Hank. I hit him so hard, I think that my fists will have to be put in a cast. But I don't really care. I still hit him anyways.

The teachers come and try to pull us apart, but it doesn't bother me. I still fight. I hate that big dog breathed boy. I want to hit him just one more time before I have to stop. Just one more time before I stop pretending that he is Hank, or the other foster parents. Before I stop pretending he is the stupid orphan boys, or my stupid social worker who lied about helping me. Stupid woman couldn't help at all. Just like stupid Hank doesn't care at all. And they all make me so mad. . .

I try to pull out of the teacher's arms. He can't hold me back forever. I can almost reach that stupid jerk, but not quite. I start to hit the teacher. Not too hard, but just enough to let me go. I try to get to that dumb boy, but the teacher grabs me first and holds my arms back. Another teacher comes and grabs my legs. I kicked him good in the face. I wish I could kick Hank like that.

I kick and punch and pull until I finally have to stop to breathe. My belly hurts, and my head is dizzy, but at least I don't feel as mad anymore. The teachers are talking to us in angry voices. They put me on the ground and start dragging me and the other boy to the office. Suddenly, I get the chills. I look at the fence and see him. The other boy like me.

We stare at each other as I get pulled away. Somehow I know that it's him. I can feel him like the prickly feeling I get on my neck when Hank comes home from work. I know it is him in my heart and my mind. My brother. I look at him and know that he has everything I want. He has a mom and a dad and a sister. I wish I were him. Because if I was, I wouldn't be in trouble with Hank tonight when he comes to take me home.