Fergus groaned when he heard the heavily accented Irish voice screaming for him to get downstairs. He had gotten only five minutes of shut-eye. He stumbled up, almost falling over his long limbs as he sleep deprived strolled downstairs.

Ms Finlay stood at the doorway, clasping her meaty hands together. “Fergus dear, come 'elp us out in the kitchen, Robert is out... Doing business, and I'd need someone to peel the potatoes, come come!” the tall teenager followed the lumpy woman, feeling bitterness towards Robert. Everyone in the house knew his business. His business was crooked cigarettes and beer bottles.

Fergus sat down on the stool, looking at the huge bucket filled with potatoes sadly. Hopelessness filled him as Ms Finlay left him alone, urging the two dark-skinned twins out of the kitchen with mops in their hands. He could hear them snickering, even though the round woman was scolding them angrily.

Fergus took the knife and decide to get on with it.

So, the thing is, Fergus was an orphan. All his seventeen years of life, he had been in four foster homes, nearly got into fifth one last year. But the foster parents saw how many times he had been brought back and decided against it. Of course, at the time he had felt bitterness about it, don't people have any kind of compassion? To call Ms Finlay and tell her to let Fergus know to start packing his bags, only to leave the boy standing in the rain, not even bothering to call to let them know about their sudden 'change of plans'. The reason he had been bought back so many times, was his rebelliousness as they called it. Fergus couldn't hold back his thirst for tricks and illusions. Apparently, most grown-ups didn't like him hiding a bubble wrapper under a carpet, or placing rows of pop-its under toilet seats.

After that day he had lost all hope in humanity.

He didn't need people who pretend to be his parents anyways. He could do well on his own.
He watched sadly as the pile of potatoes hardly lessened, tiredly, he reached out for the next one, trying to understand why Ms Finlay had chosen him to peel those stupid potatoes anyways.

Ms Finlay wasn't that bad of a person. She was just greedy, the gold and silver around her neck and chubby fingers were proof enough. And Robert Finlay was like a leech to Ms Finlay. He hardly did anything around the place, if the roof needed to be repaired, he'd climb up and possibly fall off a couple of hours later, drunk and missing couple of teeth again. It was a well-known fact that even if it was an orphanage, Catriona Finlay didn't want the kids to get adopted, by the looks of it, she did all in her power to keep kids stuck in the building. Of course, she didn't do anything if a nice couple showed up in search of a kid, she couldn't do anything. But she kept the visitors on minimum by commercing the orphanage as little as possible. All because every kid in the house brought in money from the government.

"ah arsebadger!” Fergus hissed, dropping the knife in the water and sucking his thumb. He looked at his dribble coated thumb, an angry red line covering his pale finger. “Now I can say that those potatoes were peeled by me, with my sweat and blood and phantom tears.” he grumbled, going to pick up the potato that had fallen under the table.

As he crawled out, trying to manouver with his long legs he froze, his unusually bright eyes staring at the creature sitting atop the counter, blinking its midnight black eye slowly.

There was a kind of odd spark that ran through Fergus' chest as he stared at the bird. A kind of frightening feeling. “hello.” The boy croaked out, pushing himself up slowly as not to frighten the large, dark feathered bird before him. Fergus allowed his eyes to wander off the bird for a second trying to understand how did he got in there. The windows were all closed, and he hadn't heard the shuffling of wings either. “how did you get in here, huh?” he asked gently, sitting down on the chair. The bird croaked at him, the loud sound making Fergus jump and almost fall off the chair.

If he didn't know better, he could swear that the bird was smirking. “Stop staring, it's not funny.” he mumbled, yet there was a spark of amusement in the bird's wet eyes. He admired the large raven, it's feathers looked so silky, so soft. There was something that made the bird look intelligent as if it had flown there with a purpose. Fergus could feel a cold shiver run up his back as he caught the birds dark eye, it was staring right at him. As if it could see the depths of his soul. And the sight of it couldn't be pretty.

“Fergus!” the boy jumped almost a feet in the air, turning on his heels as he held his arm over his chest, feeling his heart racing like jockeys horse. “arsebadger!” he cussed, not even realizing what he had said, Ms Finlay obviously had, as she hit the side of his head with a large wooden spoon, making the boy wince and rub the sore spot. “no cussing in this household! And what on earth have you been doing?” she asked, staring at the potatoes that were not peeled.

“there was this... Bird.” Fergus said, his voice filled with confusion as he glanced at the spot the creature had been just second ago. It was gone now. Ms Finlay scoffed, going past the tall teenager to open the window. “Stop with your stupid jokes, now, get on with it! There's so much to do. You're the eldest, you should at least help a little.” the round woman said, Fergus didn't know what, but something had ruined her mood. If he could guess, he'd say it was the twins again. He went back to his job at peeling the potatoes, frowning. Had he imagined the bird? Surely not. But where did it go?

The next hour his mind was occupied by the odd raven, without noticing it, the soup was done and all the children were chattering in the messy living room, hungry and tired. There was a lot of shining, that's why Fergus inhaled his portion as fast as he could, all the chatter was making his head hurt.

After the too salty dinner, Fergus escaped through the back door outside. There was a firm rule not to go past the gates after 7pm. Fergus didn't play by the rules, even if he tried, he wasn't so good at it.

He pulled the old coat closer to himself, cursing the small holes in his right sleeve.

He investigated his surroundings, there weren't really people around. Only one teenager walking his small poodle couple of meters away. After the teenager with the dog disappeared, Fergus found himself alone with the darkening sky and the large moon.

He sighed watching his air swirled in the cold air, he hadn't even noticed how cold it was. He pulled out his playing cards, deciding to practise in the silence. As he shuffled his cards, he threw a couple in the air just for the effect. A large, dark mass suddenly flew under his nose, shuffling if feather making the young man stumble back and let out a scream of terror at the sudden attack.

Falling in the bench behind him, he stared at the large raven sitting on the branch couple of feet away, staring at Fergus with one his cards in between its black coloured beak. The cold moon reflecting against its dark feathers made the large bird almost glow in the shadows. “g-give me my card back you thief!” he exclaimed, pushing himself up swiftly and stumbling toward the large raven. The bird simply flew higher, holding the card triumphantly. “Stop it! Come down here.” the tall teenager growled, feeling annoyed that the bird had somehow made a fool out of him earlier in front of Ms Finlay.

“I'm gonna snap your-- what the hell.” he min led as he stared at his pale hand. Don't get him wrong, he isn't vain, in fact, he doesn't think he's that good looking, but there was something that bothered him as he stared at his hand. The cut he had made earlier on his thumb, was gone.

The red, angry line was missing from the spot it was just an hour ago. Nothing, as if it never happened.

He raised his unnaturally green eyes, ready to keep shouting at the creature, but it was gone. The bird was gone, he squinted his eyes, searching that nearby shadows.

Noticing the card on his feet, he bent down to pick it up, feeling relieved that the rascal hadn't flown off with it. He turned that card around, frowning at the picture on it.

Of course, somehow the card the odd bird had snatched, happened to be black joker.

Feeling cold shiver run up his back, Fergus hid his card pack inside his pocket and hurried back the way he came, feeling as if he was being watched the whole way. Only once he made it back to orphanage he allowed himself to breathe easily. As he shut the back door, his head perked up at the large form standing before him.

“It's 8pm Fergus Finlay.” the young man gulped, laughing nervously as he tried to come up with and excuse.

He was ashamed to admit that his mind couldn't come up with anything.

And that's how he found himself cleaning all the seven bathrooms that night.