Always // Adopted By Brendon Urie [COMPLETED]

Chapter 1

(TRIGGER WARNING - references to abuse and suicide) 

My name is Georgia. Common name I know, but my past... Probably the most interesting. I'm 13 years old present, with nothing. My parents died when i was three, during a car accident. I stayed with my uncle until I was 5, he treated me like his own and I cherish every moment I spent with him. That soon all disappeared. No one ever really told me why, or how. But he was arrested and I was then forced into an orphanage. I remember that day... All those years ago. I remember the tears streaming down his face as officers forced their hands on him, pushing him to the ground. I stood helpless.

At the age of 5, you have no role to play, other than a young, child, in the responsibility of someone else. You would always run back to the person who took care of you if you were unhappy or in danger. I didn't have that. The thing I ran to was danger, I was surrounded by it, never knowing what was around the corner or how to stop it.

I never had a place to stay after my parents passed. My uncle had no money to afford a house, or food to feed us. It was just me and him. On the streets. He would always run to shop after shop, trying to find at least something to eat that day. It never really worked. But one day. He didn't come back.

I ventured out from our corner of the parking lot, and walked a few feet down the block. Noticing him standing there, struggling between 3 police officers. I was useless. I stood there staring at him as the many packets of food in his arms dropped to the floor, alarms being set off in all directions of markets and corner shops.

The car pulled away, sirens running. I was alone. Soon enough, someone found me. I was dragged to a nearby orphanage named 'Avery Lot'. The people who took me were kind. They fed me that day, and gave me warm clothes. I can't remember exactly what they looked like, but I remember the generosity and loving that they gave me before I was sent to this hell hole.

And here I am today.

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Years passed and hours and hours of work went into my happiness. Resulting in my depression. I never saw the light of day from the moment those people dropped me off here. Miss Avery, the owner of this place was, and still is by far, the most fucking arrogant and obnoxious person you could meet.

On adoption days, many couples would come in and every little child would line up to be chosen. They would pack their bags and leave the next day, and be part of a family again. Apart from me. I never got that.  I wasn't like the other children. I was bullied for my long black hair and dark eyes. People would call me 'emo' or 'goth' just because of my music taste and my looks. They would mock me for being me pretty much.

The youngest member of the orphanage was around 8 months. She was given special attention by the caretakers. Oldest would be 17, his name was Oliver. The badass of the group and by far the most handsome. He had short, curly, brown hair with blue eyes, and standing at around 5ft 9. He was my crush. Almost everyone knew it anyway, but he had a girlfriend.

She would bully me, tell me that I'm fat and call me names. Oliver didn't seem to take much notice which pissed me off, it was one thing I didn't like about him; he didn't care.

When the couples would choose what child they wanted, I would be far away from everyone, just so that if I were to make a noise, they wouldn't question who was up here.
If Miss Avery heard a peep from me, every night until the next adoption day (Which was usually every month) she would take off her belt, force me to remove my shirt and trousers and strike me. Almost every time, in the same space, leaving me with raw, bloody scars and bruises. These would  never disappear as she had done it enough times for it to mark me for a lifetime.

Alas, I could never complain. As this would result in more and more abuse. No other children took notice of this, as I was locked and chained to my bedpost. Miss wouldn't come in for weeks at a time, unless she heard me. I would be starved and left alone.

A girl by the name of Kennedy and a boy with the name Jason would come in from time to time through the window and share their food with me. They were my best friends. Without hesitation they would dress my wounds and help me sleep almost every night. I couldn't have been here all this time if it weren't for them.

The only way to let my mind escape was music. Constantly I was writing more and more lyrics of my own, telling tales of my life story. I would listen to Panic! at the disco, Fall out Boy, MCR, TØP and so many more artists every night. It helped my anxiety and depression calm down. But during any panic attack... Nothing helped. Not even the pills I tried swallowing that one time.

On multiple occasions I've tried taking my own life because nothing was right anymore. No one would have the chance to adopt me and I would be stuck here until I die anyway, so why not make the time go quicker and do it now.
Every time I tried. My body stopped me. I couldn't bring myself to it, as I panic every time. I breakdown, and get beaten again for crying. Being in the state i am, it isn't good for me.

Until I heard someone pick the door lock...

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Thank you for reading my first chapter! I know it was kinda sucky, but I just wanted to explain her story before I introduce any more characters. Next chapter I will :)