The Broken Orphan [Being Rewritten]

Two- Tired

Evangeline

I make my way to my next class as fast as I can. Thankfully, the rest of my day is uneventful. I'm able to complete all of my work, along with my homework before school ends.

I'm hungry, but I have to wait until dinner time. Ms. Victoria will give me my food, which consist of pieces of bread and a glass of milk. She controls what I eat, but I don't complain. It's enough to keep me alive, so I'm not going to risk getting it taken away. The orphanage gives us ten dollars each week for lunch, but I never buy lunch. It's better for me to save it for something I really need, unless I'm feeling bad and need to eat more.

I take my paper out of my bag and hold it loosely in my hand, knowing I need to turn it into my teacher so I can get a grade for it. I rushed out and didn't give it to her.

Slowly, I make my way from my last class to her room. I hesitate before knocking, silently praying she isn't there so I can go home and just give it to her tomorrow. Sadly, the door opens to reveal my teacher, Ms. Harris. She looks down to me with a confused expression. I hold out the paper, my hand trembling and my heart pounding. She takes it from me and looks over it, and as I go to leave, she stops me.

"Wait, Evangeline, can I talk to you for a minute?"

I stop in my tracks and turn back around to her. She motions for me to follow her into her room, so I do. We find random seats, and she sits across from me.

Ms. Harris sighs, crossing her hands on her lap, "I'm sorry for calling on you. I just don't understand why you couldn't tell me." She expresses concernedly
I look into my lap in shame and embarrassment, fiddling with my nails out of nervousness.

"Honey, you can always talk to me if something is bothering you. Is everything okay at the orphanage?" She ask. I nod in response, not wanted to talk about the orphanage with anyone.

My teachers know I don't have a home, but they don't know everything. Ms. Harris is the only one who actually tries to talk to me about it. Sometimes, I almost give in and tell her, but I never let myself give in. None of the students know about it. For all they are concerned, I'm just the teachers pet who hardly talks.

"If someone is bothering you or if you ever just need to talk to someone, I'm here. You don't have to be afraid to tell someone if something is wrong. And what your classmates said about you isn't true." She says sympathetically.

'Yeah right. It's totally true. I'm no one.' I think to myself.

"You are a smart and beautiful girl who can do great things one day. You can't let what other people say bother you. Do you understand?" She says, I nod again, wishing this conversation would be over already. Ms. Harris  sighs when she realizes that I'm not going to talk. It's very rare that I do. I usually say thank you and please because I don't want to be rude, but I'm too nervous to talk most of the other times.

I look at the clock on the wall and see that I need to get back 'home'. Ms. Harris follows my eyes to the clock and looks back to me.
"Do you need a ride?" She offers, I shake my head no. Grabbing my things, I stand and walk to the door and give Ms. Harris a wave goodbye.

I begin my walk back to the orphanage,
clutching my books to my chest tightly as I walk and huddling into my sweater for warmth. Eventually, I make it to the orphanage. I climb the creaky steps to my shared room, set my book bag at the end of my bed, and lie down. Just as I close my eyes to rest, someone yells my name.

"Evangeline, get down here!" Ms. Victoria yells
I shoot from my bed and race downstairs in a hurry. Ms. Victoria waits for me at the bottom of the stairs.

"Clean this place. I'm going out, and it better be spotless when I get back. I want all the dishes done and put away, everyone's laundry done, the bathrooms need to be cleaned, and the bedrooms. Sweep and mop the floors too." She says earning a disappointed nod from me.

Ms. Victoria is a mean lady. She doesn't like any of us kids, but she has a special hole in her heart just for me. She hates me with a burning passion, that's why she makes me do all these things. Really it's supposed to be her job, but she puts it on me and other kids to do. If it doesn't get done by the time she says, then dinner is taken away. Sometimes, although rarely, someone will help if I really need it.

There are kids of all ages here. From as little as four to almost eighteen. Some kids leave to go to foster homes, but some come back. Other are lucky enough to get adopted. I envy those kids who get a loving family, but I know it will never happen to me. No one ever wants me because Ms. Victoria tells them I'm a bad person before they even meet me.

I start when she leaves. First, I get the laundry going and, then fold what has already been done. I lay all of the clothes on the children's dressers for them to put away themselves. I clean all the rooms and make the beds so it looks neat. Then I move onto the dishes. I sweep once I'm done with the dishes and then mop. I begin cleaning the bathrooms once I'm finished with mopping.

My hair is sticking to my forehead from sweat and my muscles ache. It's been three hours, and I'm almost done. When I finally finish my chores, I tiredly change my clothes and collapse onto my bed. The front door slams closed, meaning Ms. Victoria is back. We all go downstairs for dinner, which is the same as always for me. Every day, I get milk and bread. I devour mine in seconds, washing it down with the milk. I wash the dishes as everyone else finishes their soup. Ms. Victoria doesn't say a word to me. Not a thank you, or a good job. But it's not like she ever does.

I trudge back upstairs and lay on my bed. I fight to hold my eyes open any longer. I climb under the covers and make a cocoon around myself with the thin blankets. Slowly, I drift off into a restless sleep.

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Rewritten 8/4/2019