"Mama, I can't go!" Tyler protested, trailing along behind his mother as she picked up his suitcase and carried it out of the room. "I'll miss you too much!"

The woman smiled a bit wearily at her son as she paused outside of the boy's now-empty room. "I know, honey, I'll miss you too. But I'll be able to visit you twice a year, and call once a month. And you can come home for Christmas, too."

"It's not the same," Tyler mumbled, shoving his hands into the pockets of his shorts. "I don't even know why I'm going to this school."

"The Ballato House is different," she explained. "They're more...accepting there, of people like you."

The boy lifted his doe eyes up to his mother. "People like me?"

She smiled again and ruffled his fluffy brown hair, making him duck his head and pretend to complain. "People who have special gifts." A slightly sad look came into her eyes. "It's just not quite safe here for you anymore, and you need to go somewhere where you can be properly taught and looked after."

Tyler lowered his head slightly, nodding twice in slow succession. After the...incident, at school, he should have known he would get pulled out. There was probably good reason that he'd been homeschooled up until ninth grade.

His mother handed him his suitcase and led him down the stairs, as he followed reluctantly. Tyler had only ever known this house, with its worn banister and rattling fridge and creaking wooden floors. How would he ever adjust to somewhere else?

"Do you think the birds will find me where I am?" Tyler asked in a soft voice as his mother collected three shoe boxes from the kitchen counter.

"I'm sure they will, Tyler." She gave him a kind look, and they went out down the front walk together. The garden was beautiful, scattered with bird feeders and bird baths and perches. Flowers bloomed from every spare nook and cranny, and soft green grass covered the ground like a carpet. Tyler was definitely going to miss the garden.

They loaded the boxes and suitcase into the trunk of the car, while the driver waited patiently. Tyler's mother shut the trunk, then sighed, running her fingers over the cool black surface. "I guess this is it."

Tyler quickly wrapped his mother in a hug, and she hugged him tightly in return. The boy was sixteen and a half years old, and thus probably much too old to cry like this, but he couldn't help the tears that pooled in his eyes. He had no siblings, and his father had been absent since he was six, so his mother was all that he knew. Aside from the birds, of course.

"I love you, Tyler." The woman petted Tyler's hair lightly, like she had when he was little, and he calmed down gradually. "Be good, okay?"

"I will, Mama, I promise."

"Be nice to the other children, and eat well, and do all your homework."

"I know, Mama, I will."

"I don't want to interrupt," the driver said, standing by the car door. He had dark hair down just past his chin, and startling hazel eyes. "But we should get going."

"Right." Tyler's mother released her son, pecking him on the head and gently nudging him. "Go on. I'll call you in a month, okay?"

The driver opened the door, and Tyler slowly got in. "I love you!" he called just before the driver shut the door again. he couldn't hear her as well through the sealed door, but he could tell by the way her lips moved that she said the same thing in return.

As the driver steered the car down the dusty gravel driveway, Tyler wondered if he'd ever see his home again.