Yeah ... what's that thing people say about God's sense of humor?
[He shakes his head, smiling grimly. Everything about the Numbered speaks to direct opposition of everything he's ever known about God. A puzzle to be unpacked at another time, perhaps.]
All right.
[It's as good an answer as any, and Micah meant what he said earlier - he doesn't mind talking about his past. It's been the subject of Quill House promotional pieces for years.
Micah takes a deep breath, bows his head, considers where to begin. With the question Lazarus asked, he figures - that's as good a place as any.]
I was homeless, as in living on the streets, for about six months, when I was fifteen, but I hadn't really had a home for three years before that. It's not really your home when you're in foster care - you're just visiting.
[Which is a point he'll circle back to. First, the other part of Lazarus' question.]
What I did was ... well, what most people do in that situation, I guess. You find places to squat, dig through dumpsters. You steal what's necessary to survive. Sometimes you run scams, though that usually takes more effort than it's worth. Some people panhandle, but that wasn't really my style.
[He sucks on his front teeth, silent for a moment as he runs backward through his memory.]
How I got there ... like I said, I was in foster care for a few years. My dad died when I was two, so I never knew him, and my mom ... she was all right, except for getting hooked on meth. Said she needed a little help working two jobs to keep a roof over our heads. Things weren't great, but we were doing OK, until she got remarried.
[Here his expression darkens, mouth forming a thin line, jaw taut.]
He was a drunk, and he was an asshole besides. I used to wake up in the middle of the night to the sound of him beating her up. He got sloppy with me, though - CPS got involved when I started showing up to school with black eyes and bruises. I was twelve when they got their parental rights terminated.
cw domestic + child abuse
[He shakes his head, smiling grimly. Everything about the Numbered speaks to direct opposition of everything he's ever known about God. A puzzle to be unpacked at another time, perhaps.]
All right.
[It's as good an answer as any, and Micah meant what he said earlier - he doesn't mind talking about his past. It's been the subject of Quill House promotional pieces for years.
Micah takes a deep breath, bows his head, considers where to begin. With the question Lazarus asked, he figures - that's as good a place as any.]
I was homeless, as in living on the streets, for about six months, when I was fifteen, but I hadn't really had a home for three years before that. It's not really your home when you're in foster care - you're just visiting.
[Which is a point he'll circle back to. First, the other part of Lazarus' question.]
What I did was ... well, what most people do in that situation, I guess. You find places to squat, dig through dumpsters. You steal what's necessary to survive. Sometimes you run scams, though that usually takes more effort than it's worth. Some people panhandle, but that wasn't really my style.
[He sucks on his front teeth, silent for a moment as he runs backward through his memory.]
How I got there ... like I said, I was in foster care for a few years. My dad died when I was two, so I never knew him, and my mom ... she was all right, except for getting hooked on meth. Said she needed a little help working two jobs to keep a roof over our heads. Things weren't great, but we were doing OK, until she got remarried.
[Here his expression darkens, mouth forming a thin line, jaw taut.]
He was a drunk, and he was an asshole besides. I used to wake up in the middle of the night to the sound of him beating her up. He got sloppy with me, though - CPS got involved when I started showing up to school with black eyes and bruises. I was twelve when they got their parental rights terminated.