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Topher could barely register what was happening until it was already occurring. The man was holding him, so easily that he was slightly shocked, even more so when he began to easily run through the forest without even hitting a single branch or tripping over a rock. He seemed so….agile, so inhuman.
The house that he was brought into was large, easily able to hold a large number of people. Although Topher was brought into a particular room, still slightly anxious and unsure as to what was going on. He was nearly in dazed from it all.
New home? Topher looked at the person in front of him with furrowed eyebrows. “My home?” he whispered in disbelief before then feeling of his warm fingers lifting his chin up to look at his lip. He closed his eyes, ashamed of any injuries he received from his own flesh and blood. “My…my father.” Topher answered.
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"Why is it that, as a culture, we are more comfortable seeing two men holding guns than holding hands?"
~Ernest Gaines
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