07 | familiar face

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CHAPTER SEVEN;
FAMILIAR FACE
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Caleb sat in his bed, holding a small piece of cloth in his hands. The cloth, which had been with him since the day someone dropped him off at the orphanage with only five months. And the reason Caleb was holding it so tightly was because, even though he wouldn't dare to say it out loud, he'd lost hope. Hope that someone would look at him and say 'this is the kid I want as my kid'. That someone would want him as family.

He was eight years old now, and everyone said some took longer than others, and he was still young, but Caleb knew he wasn't the perfect boy a parent would want if they had a choice. All he wanted was to leave that awful place, yet, he told himself he wouldn't. No one wanted him before, why would they want him now?

Those thoughts swirled around his mind, when footsteps echoed from the corridor just outside the room he shared with four other kids. The door burst open, reviling an energetic Phillip.

"Caleb! Caleb!" he jumped up and down in happiness. "They want me! I'm getting a home!"

Phillip — or 'Lip' as Caleb always called him — was two years younger than him and also the most innocent and adorable kid in the entire orphanage. Caleb's heart sank. His best friend was leaving him. Caleb quickly faked a smile. "Oh my God, that's incredible, Lip!"

Phillip's smile instantly fell. "Why are you sad?" he said, nodding at the blue cloth he only picked up when he wasn't feeling well. It calmed him down in a weird way.

   "I'm not sad," he shrugged. "I'm just not happy."

   "But I thought you wanted to go," Phillip moved closer as Caleb frowned in confusion.

   "I do. That's the problem, I don't want to be here anymore," Caleb said, passing his thumb through the thin cloth. "I want a mommy and a daddy too."

   "Well... there was a funny man downstairs asking for you," he said. Today was the day of the year where anyone could come in and take a look at them, see if they find any kids. Then there were all those papers Caleb didn't understood, and then the new home.

   "Really?" Caleb got up in a swift motion, his eyes were wide with shock.

   Phillip leaned in, whispering, "He tickled me..." he giggled in amusement at the memory, but Caleb wasn't paying attention. He darted out of the room, crashing against the wall and tripping over the carpet, until he got to the staircase.

He tiptoed his way to the middle of the stairs and looked down, searching for the familiar face of whoever was interested in him. 'Familiar face' because in Caleb's mind, that's what it would be. He would look at whoever it was and would know it was their family. Because that's who it would be, right? The person who dropped him off in there came back for him. It had to be it.

There weren't many people in sight so he walked down until he was on the first floor and in the middle of the giant people. Mrs. Willson stood with a cup of tea, talking to the oldest of the boys in the orphanage and other kids ran around the house. Through the faces, he searched, but none were found. None that felt somewhat familiar.

Caleb felt his heart sinking to his stomach as his face fell into a saddened expression. Too sad for a eight-year-old.

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