Later that afternoon, Jack traipsed outside with a magnifying glass. He frisked the yard for dry leaves, bugs, anything that could burn or melt. He carried his findings up to the sidewalk and plopped his butt down, beginning the process of aligning the sunlight onto a plump ant that had wandered into his trap.
A commotion from inside the house drew Jack’s attention from his science experiment. His mother’s shrill raspy voice erupted from an open window and was silenced shortly after by a loud smack, presumably his father’s hand colliding with her cheek. What could it possibly be about this time Jack wondered. There was then a loud crash harmonized with the sound of shattering glass. Per usual, Jack leaped up and sprinted inside to break up the fight.
As he burst through the front door, he took in the scene. Syringes and spoons littered the living room floor, the coffee table overturned. One of the back windows had been broken, and with further inspection, Jack found that a hammer had been thrown through it and into the back yard. Judging by the partial destruction of the first floor, he decided that he would be a useless component in ending the quarrel and headed back outside to continue melting ants.

Jack headed back into the house at dusk. An eerie silence clung to the interior of the house. Slowly padding into the kitchen, once again driven by hunger. He had just chomped down on a heavily bruised apple when he heard footsteps coming from upstairs, an unsettling wave crashed over his body as he began to head in their direction.
He quietly walked into his parents’ bedroom and froze at the unraveling scene before his eyes. His mother stood at the side of the bed with a glazed look in her eyes, holding a shotgun to his unconscious father’s head. Clearly unaware of Jack’s presence, she muttered “You are one sorry son of a b****,” and pulled the trigger.
Jack screamed into oblivion as he watched his father’s head erupt and blood splatter across the walls and ceiling. A million thoughts raced through his head in a single moment. How could mommy do such a thing to daddy? His mother turned abruptly, shocked at his presence. Jack stood there petrified. He could not speak, though every fiber of his body screamed for him to run. Aiming the gun at Jack, she pulled the trigger without hesitation… and then there was darkness.

Jack slowly opened his eyes, practically blinded by the sterile white light. He groggily
peered around the room, establishing that he was in a hospital and the assortment of machines that he was attached to. An array of doctors rushed in, seemingly amazed at this awakening. None of them spoke to him, only amongst themselves. Because he was only semi-conscious, Jack only picked up fragments.
“Shot in the head…”
“A medical miracle…”
“Poor kid… practically brain dead for months”
“Wakes up to two dead parents and no home…” Jack’s head spun at all of the information he was trying to absorb.
“Whaaa….” was all he could blurt out before sinking back into the blackness that he had just emerged from.
    The next time that Jack stirred, sunlight poured in through a crack in the semi-closed curtains. He shuddered as he weakly reached for the button next to him, hoping someone could bring him a blanket and some answers. Moments later, a petite middle aged woman bustled in. “Mornin’ sunshine!” she forcibly chirped.
“Can I get an extra blanket, please? And would you mind telling me why I’m here?” The nurse froze in her footsteps. Slowly, she turned to Jack.
“I’ll let the doctor explain everything, sweetie. He’ll be with ya in about five minutes.” She flashed him a sympathetic smile, and left to get his blanket.
     The doctor shuffled in with a grave look on his face and deep dark circles under his eyes. “Jack, I’ve waited a very long time to finally meet with you” he let out a deep sigh. “You were in an accident and suffered major damage to your frontal lobe, or the front part of your brain. All of your vitals are stable now, but this damage can cause a lot of issues. You had to be awake for us to analyze further problems such as memory loss. Let’s start with… what do you remember?”
  Jack racked his brain, but nothing came to him. He was a blank slate. Nothing from his childhood, school, he couldn’t even remember his own mother or father. “Nothing. I can’t remember anything” whispered Jack.
“Hmm… well in these cases, certain things may come back to you. This can take a couple of days or weeks, but don’t be discouraged if nothing comes back right away” explained the doctor absentmindedly, his eyes were absorbed in his notes.
Jack sensed that something was very wrong. Why isn’t he looking at me??? What’s in those notes that he doesn’t want me to know? The doctor winced, as if some invisible force had jabbed him in the ribs. “Listen Jack… t-there is no easy way for me to tell you this, but your mother and father are dead. We have arranged for you to go into a loving, and welcoming foster home as soon as you are ready. Your foster parents are very excited to meet you, and we can arrange a meeting as soon as you’re feeling well”  he relayed hesitantly.
Jack, seemingly unphased by this news, uttered “please call them today, I’d like to get out of this place soon.”

At a young age, Mary’s womb had been deemed unsuitable to house a baby. Since then, her and her husband devoted their lives to taking in any child who came their way that needed a home. Benjamin had acquired a large amount of wealth being the only child still living after his parents died, so money was not a concern to the couple. When they received a call from a local hospital about Jack, they rushed the adoption process forward immediately.
As Jack observed Mary and Benjamin Frank, he came to the conclusion that they were plain and old. But as hours passed and hospital release forms were signed, Jack had gradually warmed up to them. When the trio pulled into the driveway, Jack craned his neck to take in the view of his new home.
“The other children will be so excited to meet you, Jack” Mary’s calm voice diminished any trepidations that Jack had.
“How many other children are there?” Jack questioned.
“Five. You’ll be sharing a bedroom with Louis and Jane because you three are the youngest,” she explained. “We’ll go shopping for you soon, until then you can borrow some clothes from Louis” giving Jack a tight grin, she led him into the house.

“He’s weird, and that big ugly scar on his head makes him look scary,” Jane whined to her eldest sister Sheila.
“Well, get over it kiddo. He’s not going anywhere” Sheila snapped in response. She would not admit it, but she had a bad feeling about Jack. He was too quiet and avoided eye contact, even with the adults. She had only heard whisperings between Mary and Ben, but she gathered enough information to know that Jack was damaged goods. She fed the other children stories based on what she heard through eavesdropping, so all of them knew how he got the big scar on his head as soon as he stepped through the front door.
The family gave Jack the warmest welcome that they could muster. They ate dinner together in the dining room, which was only used on special occasions. Jack felt as though he was merely observing a scene of a happy family from a distance. He did not bother to involve himself in the conversation, he was absorbed in his own thoughts. No one had explained what the “accident” was that gave him this big scar on his head, or why everything was too loud for his sensitive ears. He desperately reached for some memory from before he woke up in the hospital, but nothing resurfaced. Thoughts and questions ran through his mind for the rest of the evening until his head hit the pillow of his new bed.

Jack awoke first out of everyone else in the house. He rifled through Louis’ clothes and found a t-shirt and some ratty jeans that fit him perfectly. He tiptoed down the stairs and into the kitchen where he found a plethora of food. Although the amount of breakfast choices was overwhelming, he selected a box of Apple O’s and went to the fridge for some milk.
The house was still silent at nine o’clock, so Jack decided to go outside. The sun was out and it was a delightfully warm spring morning. He immediately raced into the woods that were behind the house. He spent the next hour scavenging the woods for treasure. Eventually, he stumbled across a small rabbit. He chased it into a small cave and cornered it. “Gotcha!” He exclaimed, grasping the struggling bunny. As he looked the quivering animal in it’s terrified eyes, he felt powerful. Like he was finally in control of something. There was a part of Jack that let loose. He grasped the rabbit in his fists and squeezed it with all of his might. The helpless animal squealed in his deadly grip. All of a sudden, he was no longer in the cave. He was in a messy room, a children’s room. He recognized it to be his old room. Then, the memory flooded back: his father’s strong grip trapped him and left him pinned to the bed. Jack struggled to remain quiet as he was raped to no avail. He blinked hard and he was back in the cave. The lifeless rabbit still clenched in his once clean hands.
Over the course of three hours, Jack had dissected the rabbit with a small pocket knife that he found in Louis’ bedside table. He retrieved some of the bones from the body and carried them to the creek to rinse them off. Once they were clean, he stuffed his trophies into the pocket of his jeans and headed back to the house.
“Where have you been?” Mary forced her voice to sound as calm as possible.
“Exploring,” Jack offered no further explanation.
Mary huffed a sigh of exasperation, but did not press the boy further. He flew up the stairs and into his bedroom to find a box to begin his collection. Once his trophies were safely in their box and stuffed under his bed, Jack found a musty copy of Charlotte’s Web on Jane’s bedside table. He became lost in the pages of the book until late into the afternoon.

Weeks had passed and Jack still had not warmed up to the other children. It was not as though the other children wanted anything to do with him either. Mary worried that he was incapable of assimilating into their family. However, Jack was as happy as a lark. He spent his days hiding away in the woods, preying on small animals.
After a long morning of hunting in the woods, Jack was adding his ninth piece to his collection box when Louis crept into the room, curious to see what Jack was so occupied with.
“What the….” Louis gaped at the bones that littered the box in Jack’s hands.
  Jack leaped up and screamed “get out!” Some of the other children raced to the room to see what the commotion was about. When Louis began explaining what he had seen, Jack retrieved the stolen pocket knife from his back pocket. He flicked it open with ease, and in one swift movement he stabbed Louis in the left leg. Jack screamed in agony, as did the children who watched the scene unfold. Realizing what he had done, Jack pushed the others aside and dashed past them as they ran to aid Louis. Jack flung the front door open and ran. He did not know where he was going, but he needed to get away. Far, far away.

Jack made it to the highway before he heard the sirens. He was running out of time and options. He could not go back to the foster home… not now. Sticking his thumb out, he hoped that someone would pick him up. To his delight, a semi truck pulled over two hundred feet ahead of him. Jack sprinted up to the passenger side and hopped into the truck.
“Where are you headed?” Jack inquired.
“San Francisco” the man grunted.
At that moment, the cop cars zoomed past them going in the opposite direction. Jack let out a sigh of relief. He was safe for the time being. He waited for the man in the driver’s seat to begin asking questions, but the questions never came. After hours of driving in silence, the man pulled over at a gas station to use the restroom. Once he returned and they were pulling out of the gas station, the driver asked “what’s your name sonny?”
Jack knew he could not reveal his true identity. He glanced at a sign on the side of the road that read “ZODIAC RANCH NEXT LEFT.”
“Zodiac” Jack replied grimly.