Alfred POV

I wrote a new letter for the pretty boy. I watched out the window all morning. I even turned down breakfast. But ma'am made me get lunch. She took me from the room by my wrists, and I tried to fight back... but she's a very strong woman.

I don't really think ma'am wants to work with kids. She hates the crying that we do, and she hates when we speak about our parents. Maybe she's sad too. I've never asked... or maybe she's just mean. I hope she isn't sad. I don't like when people are sad. Especially when mother was sad.

I guess ma'am reminds me of my mother in some ways; not many, though. Mother had blonde hair just like me, but ma'am has brown hair with gray streaks that are growing in each day. Mother was kind and had a gentle voice... Ma'am can be kind sometimes, but she is especially kind whenever people are here to adopt someone. That makes sense, though. If she is nice, she can guilt trip anyone.

Plus, people only want babies and really little kids. When me and my little brother Matthew got here, I was seven and he was four. He was gone before I could even turn around. I wonder what he's like now... I wonder if he remembers me.

He really looked like mother. Mother tried her best to keep us. She really did. She'd work hard, and she got hurt a lot... and sometimes she'd be working for nights on end to get money for me and Matthew to use for food... and she never seemed to be hungry herself. I think that is because she wanted us to get the best food. She wanted us to grow up big. If she saw us now, and saw the conditions we lived in, she'd probably be ashamed... she'd probably cry.

I hope Matthew's new family loves him like mother did.

I hope they come back one day to get me.

Before I knew it, Pretty Boy stood on the sidewalk outside of my window. I scrambled to my feet and to the window. I aimed carefully, and threw it. It tapped at the Pretty boy's shoulder, and before he could turn to see me, I ducked down beneath the windowsill. I could tell he smiled, though...

And it was beautiful...