(Explicit Language and Abuse are in this chapter, proceed with caution)

{3 Years Earlier, 2015} (Considering he's 21 now)
Month: January
Weather for Week: Snow for the next 7 days,

The forest was calm and quiet, only the wind blowing could be heard. Snow dusted over the ground in heavy drifts, resting on benches and the shoulders of people walking. Four people strode along on the park's path as three smaller children chased each other through the snow, trying to get the older man near them to play too. A smile would cross across his bruised face as they did, but made no move to join them on his shaky legs. The three children whined in unison as Victor head-butted his foster brother's side. "Come on Mitch! Your no fun!" He whined as Micheal laughed. "You tell me enough everyday little man." He retorted to the ten year old. Victor gasped in false protest, before his sister, Lillian threw herself onto his back, tackling him down. George laughed off the side as he quietly plucked some leaves from a bush, sending snow flying into his face. The other three took a moment before laughing as George turned to look at them. His face was covered. Micheal was snorting as he attempted to stop laughing. The little boy wiped the snow from his face, laughing along with his siblings. This was the one time they really got the chance. Life at home was hard. They hated to admit it, but it was.

The door creaked open as Micheal opened it for the triplets, letting them slip in before him. They skittered off to their room quickly as Micheal shakily removed his coat and put it on the rack. "And where were you?" A husky voice grumbled. The 17 year old lifted his head before looking back at the coat rack to hang it up. "The park." He suddenly stated in his low British accent, his hands now deep in the pockets of his jeans as he looked back at Jacob. He gave him an unamused expression as he went to turn to the hallway with his room. "Son, your supposed to be cooking dinner." Jacob stated. "Don't call me son, for one. And secondly, you're an adult. Make your own food." Micheal quietly responded, slowly walking towards the hallway once more. A low grunt came from the doorway of the kitchen as Jacob turned, "Make some use of yourselves then." He grumbled then disappeared into the kitchen. Micheal walked past the room that belonged to the kids, smiling at them as they waved at him. He walked into his own room to sort out the homework he still needed to do.

The dinner table was quiet as usual, small talk was not something they did. "When do we go back into the system." Micheal suddenly blurted out. "I'm done living here." He flinched back as Amanda looked at him, her head tilted. "Next month.." She mumbled. "Oh why, you not happy?" Jacob sneered from across the table. "Yeah. I'm not. You, you two, act innocent. But you have beaten these children into submission. And I'm not comfortable with that." Micheal snapped back. Jacob stood up. "You ungrateful bastard.." He growled lowly. Micheal stared at him, his eyes a blazing fire of green. Jacob readied his fist, when it simply collided with Micheal's hand. "That all you got?" He huffed. "Think a little punch will get me to listen to ya." He pushed Jacob back and stood up. The three children quickly ran to hide. "Then your wrong. A weak man like yourself can't possibly do much."

The next morning there the six of them lay. Three unconscious. Three dead. Micheal lay curled around the bodies of his foster siblings, one wing draped over their corpses comfortingly. The two they called their parents lay on the kitchen floor, knocked out violently with sleeping pills and a frying pan. Police sirens blared outside. They had been called 30 minutes ago by a neighbor who had discovered the scene. Micheal was then taken back into foster care.. placed in a home with loving parents. While Amanda and Jacob were rightfully locked away to rot in cells till the end of their days. As for the three? They now watch over people of their own as guardian angels, roaming the world as they once did. Though this story did not have a happy ending for some.
There is still more of a story to tell.