The Author (Chapter 1)

After the Mckinzies passed away, it was straight to the foster home for Emmett. He lived under the roof of the orphanage for two months, his days cold and joyless, until he was adopted once again.

His next family, although nowhere near as amazing as the Mckinzies, wasn't all that bad. They went by the name of the Johnson's-Peter and Victoria Johnson. They were much different than his previous parents, but they were still nice people. They were just so busy. It seemed like these two never stopped, their schedules packed for everyday of the week. It was actually kind of fun at first, always going somewhere, always meeting someone new, always rushing from one place to the next so as not to be late. But the hustle and bustle quickly became tiring.

But even with their busy lifestyle, the Johnson's still made sure that Emmett was provided and cared for. They took time out of their hectic schedules to see that he was doing well, and they made sure to share some sort of experience-be it having dinner or sitting down to watch a movie-with him at least once a day. They loved him like a natural son, and they made sure that he knew it. For that, Emmett had loved them in return.

And things weren't all that bad once he'd settled in. After he had proven that he could stay alone at home by himself, life had gotten much less frantic. For now he was allowed to stay home when he wished, and he could be more selective about when he wanted to join his new parents in their eventful lifestyle. He still missed the Mckinizies as much as ever, but life wasn't so bad.

As fate had it, it was immediately after he found a comfortable medium in his new home that tragedy struck yet again.

It was the Johnson's anniversary when he last saw them. They had decided to go out for a moonlight walk-something that they used to do rather often-in attempt to remind themselves of their youth. While on their stroll, they ended up being run over by a steamroller. Emmett had never heard of anything like it. It sounded like some gag that you might see in a cartoon. But it had happened to the Johnson's.

The police investigated the situation, but the murder (or accident) was never solved.

Emmett cried again, though it didn't hit him nearly as hard as it had with the Mckinzie's. But he didn't have long to grieve, for soon after, he was once again dumped in an orphanage.

The next family that adopted him was simply awful. Vince and Marley Tunip were their names. It was a wonder that they'd even found someone to let them take in a child being as fond of alcohol as they were. Emmett had trouble recalling a single time when the Tunips hadn't been drunk. He figured that they must have been born with beer bottles in hand.

Emmett quickly discovered that always being under the influence made for sloppy and easily angered parents. Vince, not at all a "nice" drunk, would often times take out his frustrations on Emmett, using the boy as a way to blow off steam. But this blowing off steam resulted in more lumps and bruises than Emmett cared to have. And to add to it, Marley, his foster mother (yes, some terrible person had actually named their daughter Marley) would always be standing behind him, shouting about all the things that he did wrong and how he should be grateful that they were kind enough to take him in.

Luckily, this didn't last for very long. Two weeks after being fostered by the Tunips, his new parents were found murdered in their car which had been parked at the liquor store just down the street. Someone had decided to slit their throats, and the police had been left baffled as to the intention of the murder. The Tunips hadn't been robbed, their wallets were still in place along with all of their valuables. To add to the confusion, the police scanned the fingerprints on the car into their identification-system only to find that the culprit apparently didn't exist. At least, not on paper. The police had absolutely no records on the suspect.

The crime had never been solved.

So it was back to the orphanage for Emmett. Though this time, he was glad for it. Life at the Tunips had been a nightmare, and thankfully, a short one.

But now, with all of the deaths that seemed to follow Emmett, he had developed a bit of a reputation. And as silly and superstitious as it sounded, nobody wanted to take in the boy who's parents always ended up dead. Or so he thought.

Not too long after, Emmett was picked up by another family, though this time the "family" was no more than a single father-a man by the name of Hank Williams.

Hank was a businessman in every sense of the word. His job was his life. His life was his job. Work was the only thing that mattered, and in truth, the only reason that Emmett had even been adopted.