Luella

01 | eighteen

L U E L L A

09:36AM

It's maddening how I was unintentionally depriving my exhausted body from the sleep and rest it deserved for days now - maybe even a whole week. Sure, I had little naps of only two hours top that didn't satisfy my own body. But it was all for a reason - a well deserved one at that.

The anticipation has driven me insane for eighteen years straight. I've been locked in a rusty building with a bunch of other girls whom I can fairly say I have a lot in common with. But finally, after counting down 365 days every year for an 18-years span, it's time. Because tomorrow is an important day.

It's my birthday.

But a bit more different than others, it didn't signify the moment of birth - when I was popped out of my mother's uterus. This one, after literally eighteen years of waiting, signified me being independent. Hence, turning eighteen. Hence, freedom. Hence, getting out of here.

Getting this sense of freedom when getting out of the only place I was allowed to call home made me feel like an ungrateful brat, but I was well aware that it's become a bit too strange to consider an orphanage that I've been stuck and trapped in every single second of my life -you know, minus all the foster homes they tried to ship me to- a home that I would willingly let myself be stuck and trapped in after eighteen years.

Even if I somehow miraculously wished so, I would - by all means - be kicked out.

What really mentally and emotionally unsettles me though, is the fact that all of my friends my age, who I grew up with in here or met along the way, have been adopted far before they even neared sixteen or seventeen of age. All of them.

So, yes, I'm the only eighteen-year-old that they would be signing off out of this rottened place that nonetheless holds so many memories. But, however, I can't ignore the fact that the reason I was here in the first place was because my own parents gave up on raising a little baby so they decided to ship her off to an old orphanage.

I'm glad they did just that; because even considering the thought of brushing your responsibilities away is such an irresponsible act.

Of course I do get that not all these kids here were brushed off by their parents, but I'm sure I was, according to Cecilia, who had found me on the doorstep of the orphanage when I was just a day old. They had to get me medical care because of how fragile I was.

No one could have discarded me like that unless it was my biological mother, I assume.

"Lu, can I have that?" A squeaky little voice asks. I snap out of my thoughts as I peer down at the little girl who blushes.

"Of course, love," I push the plate of mashed potatoes over to the hungry girl as she shyly smiled as a 'thank you.'

I find myself praying for her sake to be adopted by a decent family so she could live a better and more stable life than mine.

I sighed, clicking my tongue and quietly rose from the creaky wooden bench. I began to head out of the eating area as Wendy, one of the assisting tutors that Margaret had hired recently, smiled at me. Margaret was the owner of the orphanage. She took over the job after her mother about two years after I've come here - meaning two years old, actually.

She looked quite younger, but everyone knew she was no less than fifty years old. I guess you could say she didn't quite fancy me, provided I was The Rebel. She always tried to get rid of me to families, but to no avail.