Finding Home

3

Bella stared solemnly out of the window of the care home on the ledge, watching the clouds float in the sky, finding familiar shapes and identifying them as animals. She was on a desolate, grey room complete with two matching bunk beds on either side of the room, parallel to the window she sat at.  They called it a 'care home' but it was completely different. It was an insane asylum and there was nothing she could do to get out of this new hell hole. In the courtyard down below under the pale blue sky, a boy was being roughly pulled out of a door and shoved into the centre of the yard, onto a guillotine. A middle aged woman stormed behind him and chained his neck in place, her bony fingers fiddling with the lock. Bella could tell the boy was crying and screaming out because his mouth was in a wide, desperate 'O'. But no sound came out. The blonde haired woman walked around to where the blade was, fixing it in place, then wrapped her hands around the thick rope, and tugged it sharply. The boy let out a last scream as the sharp blade flew down and make a clean slice through his neck. Bella shuddered as she saw the boy's head tumble onto the floor, his expression in a hollow scream, blood spurting violently from the incision. Bella averted her eyes, unable to watch the events unfold anymore, silently praying that that would never happen to her. There was a loud knock outside the door and she rushed to open it. Standing rigidly in the hallway was matron, her expression stony as always.
"Young girl, you were late to breakfast. Care to explain?" She snapped. Bella looked down.
"I wasn't hungry- ah!" She nursed her cheek where Matron had just slapped her.
"Try again, young lady." She growled. Bella looked into her cold, silver eyes.
"Permission to speak?" She piped.
"Granted." Matron quipped.
"I'm very sorry, but I wasn't feeling very hungry Matron, please forgive me." She answered.
"Much better. As punishment, you'll have James' chores as well." She barked then turned on her heel and marched away. James was the one who had just been murdered in front of her eyes. Bella desolately followed Matron to the canteen, where she was roughly shoved on a chair and served a white transparent cube. This was the only food that was served at the home, having all the needed nutrients in one small cube. Bella  shivered and took a spoonful of the clear jelly. It tasted of nothing, since Matron always said: "Food is only for sustenance, not for pleasure."
"Eat up child, you have a long day ahead of you." Matron stood squarely behind Bella, watching her every move. Once Bella had finished her meal, Matron took her to the cleaning cupboard and threw her in. Bella tumbled into a large bucket, soaking her dress.
"You're not getting a new one." Matron scolded and waked out of the cupboard, leaving Bella cold and alone. After some struggle, Bella pulled herself out of the bucket and grabbed some cleaning equipment and headed out. Her first chore was to wash the whole building's floors. Since she was new, she was forced to do this because like Matron said, "she has to get used to our routine". Bella would do anything to see her father again- she felt like she had learnt her lesson, but there was no escaping this hell hole. She sighed and kept on with her chores. The staff at the home looked out for any opportunity of punishment. It seemed that Bella's existence was a punishment in this home. The home was a large place, therefore cleaning all of its floors took a considerable amount of time. The sun was starting to set, leaving the sky with a warm glow of reds, pinks, oranges and yellows. By this time, Bella had only cleaned a third of the whole facility. She made sure the floors were sparkling, the dark oak shimmering and the walls with no stains, as well as the windows. If she did anything less than that, Matron would give her an even bigger punishment for 'not cleaning to the best of your abilities'. Bella hummed a little tune as she scrubbed on a window stain. She paused, her eyes glimmering at the beautiful view. Only this once the home looked this beautiful. She was looking out on the small village. Just in the distance, she could barely see a row of skyscrapers lined up on the horizon. A few days ago, she was in that row of small toy-like buildings. They looked so small from here, Bella felt like she could easily pick one of them up and play blissfully with them, oblivious to cruel place she was in. Nostalgia washed over Bella as she pictured herself sitting in her house, mindlessly playing with some coloured blocks, her father in the kitchen making something delicious. Bella was pulled back to reality as a singular tear slipped down her cheek.