Read the following passage and questions, then choose the right answer from options, the answer should be one of A, B, C, D.

<passage>:
Charity Case By JIM HARMON can I prove that I don't have my health? Not if you believe me. The first thing I can remember, the start of all this, was when I was four or five somebody was soiling my bed for me. I absolutely was not morning the bed would sit there dispassionately soiled and convict me on circumstantial evidence. My punishment was as sure as the tide. Dad was a compact man, small eyes, small mouth, tight clothes. He was and I was left there in the dark. Being four or five, I didn't know any better, so I thought Dad made it dark to add to my punishment. But I learned he didn't know the light went out. It came back on when he unlocked the door. Every time I told things that came to me. They were real to me. They never touched me, but they had a little boy. him. Because they were real, I talked about them as if they were real, and I almost earned a bunk in the home for retarded children until I got smart enough to keep the beasts to myself. My mother hated me. I loved her, of course. I remember her smell mixed on my ninth birthday. The trouble came from the notes written in my drawings. My mother and father must have been glad when I was sent away to reform school after my thirteenth birthday party, the one no one came to. My trouble there was that I was always being framed for stealing. I couldn't be me who did the stealing. There was reason for me to steal, if I could have got away with it. The others got money from home to buy the things they needed—razor blades, candy, sticks of tea. I got a letter from Mom or Dad every now and then before they were killed, saying they had sent money or that it was the things I wanted. It was two or three years later that I skulked into Brother Partridge's people were always watching every move I made. He braced his red-furred hands on the sides of his auctioneer's stand and leaned his splotched eagle beak toward us. "Brothers, this being Thanksgiving, I pray the good Lord that we all are truly thankful for all that we have received. amening. I could see he had a lot to be thankful for—somewhere he had received a fix. "Brothers," Partridge went on after enjoying the interruption with a beaming smile, "you shall all be entitled to a bowl of turkey soup prepared by Sister Partridge, a generous supply of sweet rolls and dinner rolls contributed by the Early Morning Bakery of this city, The Stars and Stripes Forever , John Philip Sousa's grand old patriotic song." I had to laugh at all those bums clattering the chairs in front of me, scampering after water soup and stale bread. As soon as I got cleaned couldn't. It had to be a one. Who drops anything but a one into a Skid his hot little fist, he can't get his hand out. He's too greedy to let go, so he stays there, caught as securely as if he were caged. I seen it for the first time, the electricity wound the spring motor The next time I glanced at the clock, it said ten minutes had gone by. My hand still wasn't free and I hadn't budged the box. "This," Brother Partridge said, "is one of the most profound experiences of my life." My head hinged until it lined my eyes up with Brother Partridge. The pipe hung heavy in my pocket, but he was too far from me. even when they aren't around. I should have known it would come to that." wasn't dumb enough to murder. Somebody, somewhere, would be a witness intervention. But I can't imagine what." get apprehended somehow, Brother," I said. "I'm pretty special." "Your name?" "William Hagle." No sense lying. I had been booked and printed before. Partridge prodded me with his bony fingers as if making sure I was substantial. "Come. Let's sit down, if you can remove your fist from As long as it stalled off the cops, I'd talk to Partridge. call the cops. a break. "One is almost— almost —reminded of Job. William, you are being punished for some great sin. Of that, I'm sure." "Punished for a sin? But, Brother, I've always had it like this, as long as I can remember. What kind of a sin could I have committed when I was fresh out of my crib?" "William, all I can tell you is that time means nothing in Heaven. Do you deny the transmigration of souls?" "Well," I said, "I've had no personal experience—" "Of course you have, William! Say you don't remember. Say you don't want to remember. But don't say you have no personal experience!" "And you think I'm being punished for something I did in a previous "I don't know," I confessed. "I certainly haven't done anything that this life." "William, if you atone for this sin, perhaps the horde of locusts will lift from you." It wasn't much of a chance, but I was unused to having any at all. I shook off the dizziness of it. "By the Lord Harry, Brother, I'm going to give it a try!" I cried. "Perhaps this will help in your atonement," he said. when I got out of the reformatory and the one when I tried to steal It was all an accident, but killing somebody is reason enough to get I went outside with my baloney and crackers. It was warm enough even for November. Two of them, dressed like Harvard seniors, caps and striped duffer jackets, came up to the crate I was dining off. "What do you do, Jack?" the fatter one asked. "Stack boxes." "Got a union card?" "No," I said. "I'm just helping out during Christmas." make an example of him and do something permanent squirmed away across the rubbish like a polite mouse. News . There was a pick-up slip from the warehouse under the fingers of one hand, and somebody had beaten his brains out. The police figured it was part of some labor dispute, I guess, and they looking at it like that. But there was nothing to be said for telling Brother Partridge about the accident, or murder, or whatever had happened that day. matches dropping down on the floor next to his tennis shoes, and even a from spilling more from the spoon. old newspapers." "Which newspapers?" the old girl asked stiffly. I thought back. I couldn't remember the exact date. "Ones for the first "I didn't want to see the good pipe tobacco. I had been here before. In this world, it's the man with education who makes the money. I had been reading the Funk &amp Wagnalls Encyclopedia. So far I knew a lot about Mark Antony, Atomic Energy, Boron, Brussels, Catapults, Demons, and Divans. I guess I had stopped to look around at some of the titles, because the and left me alone with address. Somebody was sure to see me and I couldn't risk trouble just that they had paid a lot of money for. I remembered Fredric March's double-breasted in Executive Suite while Walter Pidgeon and the rest Harold R. Thompkins, 49, vice-president of Baysinger's, was found dead behind the store last night. His skull had been crushed by a vicious beating with a heavy implement, Coroner McClain announced in preliminary verdict. Tompkins, who resided at 1467 Claremont, Edgeway, had been active in seeking labor-management peace in the recent difficulties.... The slimy, scaly beasts were slithering over the newspaper holders, that they used to destroy when I was locked up with them in the dark. eyebrow. They couldn't do anything worse to the small man than they had done to the young boy. It was sort of nostalgic watching them, but They say it's a bad sign when you start hearing voices. But a new thought suddenly impressed itself on me.

<question>:
Who is getting William in trouble with his parents?

<options>:
A Brother Partridge
B William's twin
C William
D William's parents

<answer>:

C