Broken Half: A Tom Holland Story

I Get A Tour Through A Probably Haunted Fortress... Yay!

Checking my phone, I found that the Stockwell orphanage still had an hour left for visitors today; and it was only a fifteen-minute drive from where I was at. So, I'll pop in, get a feel of the place to know what I'm actually getting myself into, and then head home. Maybe tomorrow I'll talk to the boys about it since I still had a lot of bumps in my plan that I still have to figure out.

The drive home that day was the longest drive in my life. Thankfully, I had gotten a lot of questions answered about Second Chance Children, but on the other hand, I still had a lot of them unanswered.

When I arrived at the orphanage a stern elderly woman outside happily shook my hand, despite looking as stiff as a floorboard. After shuffling the last of the children inside, she grappled my hand in a firm hold; raving about how we 'rarely get anyone like you around here anymore.' Trying to smile through the pain, I only laughed it off and tried to unlatch her hand from mine.

She leads me into the front room of the orphanage, supposedly where the boys' rooms veered to the left and the girls' rooms to the right. The orphanage itself, you could tell, was extremely old. It almost looked like a scaled-down model of Hogwarts, minus the dragons and wands of course. (Although some of the older chaps there could have pasted for a stray witch or wizard.)

Sitting down in one of the lounge chairs in the front lobby, the elderly woman introduced herself to me as Mrs Ainsworth. After we got all of the simple questions out of the way, I finally explained to the woman what my plan was.

It was slightly hard to read her expressions while I talked, her keeping up the stiff floorboard aesthetic. Half the time she looked hopeful as if she was excited to get rid of one of these meddling kids, while other times she looked at me like I was a confused puppy. ('Haha you stupid little baby,' I could hear her saying.)

After a few minutes, Mrs Ainsworth and I had come up with an idea: since the day was almost over I could meet up with a couple of children, boys and girls alike to get a feel of what I was getting into. Then, if I still fancied the idea, I could come back tomorrow and talk with more kids. Though I didn't think Mrs Ainsworth wanted me coming back at all, despite the cold smile, dead eyes, raspy voice, and hauntingly thin frame.

By the time I had gotten to actually meeting the children, it was almost the end of visiting hours for the day. Although Mrs Ainsworth said there could be 'special occasions to stay open a little longer.' To be honest, I didn't want to stay here any longer than I needed to since the old woman was starting to scare me.

She had lined up a group of children in the hallway outside a single room for me. One at a time, they would walk in and the two of us would get to talk for a couple of minutes. There were some good ones, some not so good ones, and a couple that looked like miniature versions of Ainsworth.

By the time I had gotten through the first 10 or so kids, I was already getting tired of introducing myself. It was almost as bad as a full day of press. Finally, Mrs Ainsworth came through the door, followed by a young girl, maybe 13 years old at least. She cowered behind the old woman as if she was scared she was going to explode. Immediately I started to pity her, but before I could say anything, Ainsworth snapped me out of my thoughts.