Jackson's Origin (Part 1: Orphan's Gamble)

(...there probably wasn't any need for my roleplay character to get his own actual story, but it fills this blog with posts, so whatever. Plus, I've got writer's block with my Watching Time story, so...)

Jackson yelped as he was tossed out of the orphanage. It wasn't even an expression, he was really tossed out the window. "Get out, we don't need another mouth to feed!" grumbled the lady who ran the place. Jackson heard the implication, as well, that since he was no longer under eighteen, they were legally allowed to leave him on the side of the road.
     And yet Jackson couldn't help but consider the negative aspect. If they need more food, that thug that threw me out could probably have his rations cut in half, and still be fed plenty. He probably eats more than the rest of the city combined!
     Jackson instinctively reached for his satchel, intending to find some sort of tool to help him, but came up short. His eyes widened and he charged towards the door, and banged on it. "Give me my stuff!" he shouted. He knew it was useless, though. His tools would fetch a day's rations for the entire orphanage; Mrs. Juniper wouldn't let a fortune like that go to waste. He thought through different ploys he could use to get inside, and ultimately settled for climbing to the roof. Mrs. Juniper loved being high up; it gave her a sense of invulnerability.
     And Jackson loved climbing; it gave him a sense of control.
     He made it to the roof and, winced as he looked down. He wasn't acrophobic, so the height by itself didn't bother him, but flashes of his best friend sprawled on the ground flew through his mind and made his stomach churn anxiously. He shoved the memory back before it took over, and began feeling around for a trap door. After the International Peace Council came to power, it was decided every building three floors or taller was required to have a trapdoor built into the roof, so that there was an easy way to escape floods. They were often counterproductive, though, because everyone rushed to the trapdoors, and they were usually only big enough for one person to use at a time, and so many drowned because they chose to rely on trapdoors.
     But Jackson had to admit, he liked the easy access. He pulled the trapdoor open and dropped in, and spotted his satchel on the ground as if it had been discarded immediately. He opened it and frowned. No tools. She had already taken them.
     But the money, ironically, remained. Evidently, she must not have thought American dollars had any value in this country. These days, though, anyone would take anything. The war against the elves had drained too many resources for people to really care.
     So Jackson took the money and bag and swiftly left, and slung the satchel over his shoulder. He dropped to the ground, and as he passed the orphanage's main door, he screamed, "It's my stuff!" That would keep Mrs. Juniper from actually checking in the next five minutes. Then, Jackson ran as far away as possible. He needed to get away from human civilization.
     He needed to get away from those who killed Lilly.