Going Home

Chapter.1

I lye on my not so comfy bed in my not so nice room that I have to share with four other girls- orphans. My entire body aches and hurts from the beatings I recently received. Sliding a blade across my wrist didn't solve anything either. I slowly sit up and look at the fresh cuts on my arm.

God why can I be so stupid?! I think to myself.

I shake my head. I still have at least a billion chores to do. They will take me right through dinner. that's fine though, I don't want to eat that sludge anyway, even if we do only get it once every three days.

I close my eyes and imagine something good. Chandler Riggs. I heard about him once, form a girl that arrived a few weeks ago. She said he is wildly famous and that he acted on her favourite tv show, the walking dead.

Honestly I have never heard of him or the tv show before. And I probably never will since I am never going to get put of this dump.

I wish that someday, just someday there might be even the slightest chance of me getting out of this place. But until that wish comes true, I am stuck here doing chores and being beaten,

Opening my eyes, I walk out if my small room and into the main foyer. It is dead silent. Good.

I walk down the stairs and open the broom closet. I pick out one of the less dirty mops and start to clean the floor. I start to hum random notes to myself. Notes that I have no idea what they really mean but I am still humming them. I hum until I hear someone clear their throat.

I look up to see a man in his twenties, maybe his thirties.

"H-hello sir, h-how may I h-help you?" I stutter.

"Ah yes" he says looking me in the eyes. " I would like to know why you are mopping this here floor."

I gulp and look back at him.

"I live here at the orphanage and they give us chores to do each day to help around they place, now if you would like to adopt please come back in two days time. That is when adoption day is."

Ok that sounded good, I shouldn't get in trouble for saying that. But it seemed to not do a thing, this man really was curious about me.

"And what about the cuts on your arms?"

I quickly move my hands and wrap my arms around my chest.

"The kids and I were playing a game, we play it rough sometimes."

"Mmhh well thanks." He says and then walks out of the front doors.

Weird, why would he ask so many questions about me?

I finish moping the floor so that it is squeaky clean. I then wax it and put strips of carpet on the stairs so that it is easier to walk up.

I look at the clock. It reads 10:38 AM, oh great this has taken for ever! Considering I woke up a 5:00.

I sigh, like I always do and go into the kitchen.

That is my next job. While I clean up I sometimes sneak food when no one is looking. I never get caught because I take such small amounts.

Opening the door I look at the mess in the kitchen. It is horrible! Food and kitchen ware scatter the floor and the counters. Man I have my work cut out for me. I get to work straight away. I put away the food on the counters in their proper places while throwing out the food on the ground. I sometimes sneak a few prices of cheese or some crackers. A slice of bread or some peanut butter. Next is for the kitchen utensils. It takes me forever to find where each item goes and by the time I think I'm done, I have only cleared half the kitchen.

I put the pots and pans on the stove that were left there, in the cabinet. I soon realized I was shivering. I was freezing. They have no air conditioning or heating in this hell hole. I just ignored my goose bumps and continued cleaning the left over scraps of food off the floor. I reach for a piece of moldy bread on the floor to clean it up, and I notice the blood dripping down my sleeve onto the palm of my hand. I look down. Yep. My fresh cuts that I tried to clean are seeping in blood. I looked around and realized the only things that I could use to possibly stop the bleeding of my shaking wrists would be some dirty rags. But then there would be blood all over the rags?

I override that thought and take the rags to pressure my wrists.

I go through 2 rags in 5 minutes. They are completely covered in blood. I take a third because the blood is starting to slow down.

Right when I take them to the trash to throw away the door bursts open. Oh no.

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Oh no! who is it? Well haha you'll have to wait....😈 Vote and comment who you think. ~Christine ~Hannah