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I was adopted. I hate the thought of it, that Ann and Tim lied to me. Saying that they were my parents, when they weren’t. So I broke my promise.
*****
“You used to be the kindest girl, Ellie, what happened?”
Silence.
“Ellie, answer me.”
Silence.
“Ellie!”
Silence.
This was my tactic. When people wanted me to answer a question, or admit to something, I would stay silent. Then after about three attempts, they give up, and leave me alone. It works every time. So, I count to three in my head, and just like that, she leaves, slamming the door behind her.
Once her footsteps had faded down the hallway, I shuffled around to face the window. I pressed on the slab of wood underneath the windowsill, a drawer comes out, inside are photographs, newspaper clippings, letters, and an old, rusted heart locket. Their evidence, things that might help me find my real parents. Not my fake parents. Not Ann and Tim, who both are sleeping happily in their graves thinking that I still don’t know.
I lay out the contents of the drawer on my bed. I opened one of the envelopes, it contained 5 photographs, all taken about 10 years ago, the mum suspects. I pick up the first one, Brianna Reid, who went missing 9 years ago. I stare at the photograph, nothing about her looks like me, she just feels so familiar.
“SUPPER TIME!”
*****
I have no friends. I sit alone. I know I don’t deserve friends. And those who have been friendly to me, I’ve treated like dirt. I’m fine though. I have my siblings. They always talk about their friends, and that’s the closest thing I’ve had to experiencing real friendship.
But they never arrived at the table today. I sat alone. Feeling truly left out. Even my own family hate me. Well, I guess they’re not my family, but they were lied to as well, so, to me they are. Well, they were.
*****
That night, my eldest “sister” Kate, came to my room.
“Ellie?”
I stay silent.
“Fine. If this is what you want. To be rude to you family, as well as everyone else.”
“You’re not my family!” I shout.
Kate stares at me in utter disgust, “Wow. You know you are a truly horrid person. This is why we didn’t sit with you at dinner, you don’t even care what we talk about. You just sit there. Doing nothing. Everyone in this orphanage hates you, you are the most unlikable person I know. Goodnight.”
She leaves. I’ve had the same “conversation” with almost everyone who live here. I’m used to it. And I don’t really care.
*****
I take that back, I do care. Every time someone comes to tell be that they hate me, I go. To the attic, where no one will find me.
So once the lights are turned out in the hallway, I open the door. Check for carers, then tiptoe down until I reach the door that says, STAFF ONLY, ORPHANS NEED PERMISSION TO ENTER. I take the bobby pin out of my hair and stab it into the keyhole. I move the bobby pin around until I hear a click. The door swings open and I walk in, silently closing it behind me. I run up the stairs and walk towards my corner, the one I curl up and cry in. But something else has taken up my spot. A mirror, shining bright and silver, lighting up the room with its luminescent glow. I walk towards it, it was beautiful. Intricate designs were carved into the golden frame. My arm instinctively reaches out, the silver glass moves as I touch it, it’s cold, like water with ice in it.
*****
“You used to be the kindest girl, Ellie, what happened?”
Silence.
“Ellie, answer me.”
Silence.
“Ellie!”
Silence.
This was my tactic. When people wanted me to answer a question, or admit to something, I would stay silent. Then after about three attempts, they give up, and leave me alone. It works every time. So, I count to three in my head, and just like that, she leaves, slamming the door behind her.
Once her footsteps had faded down the hallway, I shuffled around to face the window. I pressed on the slab of wood underneath the windowsill, a drawer comes out, inside are photographs, newspaper clippings, letters, and an old, rusted heart locket. Their evidence, things that might help me find my real parents. Not my fake parents. Not Ann and Tim, who both are sleeping happily in their graves thinking that I still don’t know.
I lay out the contents of the drawer on my bed. I opened one of the envelopes, it contained 5 photographs, all taken about 10 years ago, the mum suspects. I pick up the first one, Brianna Reid, who went missing 9 years ago. I stare at the photograph, nothing about her looks like me, she just feels so familiar.
“SUPPER TIME!”
*****
I have no friends. I sit alone. I know I don’t deserve friends. And those who have been friendly to me, I’ve treated like dirt. I’m fine though. I have my siblings. They always talk about their friends, and that’s the closest thing I’ve had to experiencing real friendship.
But they never arrived at the table today. I sat alone. Feeling truly left out. Even my own family hate me. Well, I guess they’re not my family, but they were lied to as well, so, to me they are. Well, they were.
*****
That night, my eldest “sister” Kate, came to my room.
“Ellie?”
I stay silent.
“Fine. If this is what you want. To be rude to you family, as well as everyone else.”
“You’re not my family!” I shout.
Kate stares at me in utter disgust, “Wow. You know you are a truly horrid person. This is why we didn’t sit with you at dinner, you don’t even care what we talk about. You just sit there. Doing nothing. Everyone in this orphanage hates you, you are the most unlikable person I know. Goodnight.”
She leaves. I’ve had the same “conversation” with almost everyone who live here. I’m used to it. And I don’t really care.
*****
I take that back, I do care. Every time someone comes to tell be that they hate me, I go. To the attic, where no one will find me.
So once the lights are turned out in the hallway, I open the door. Check for carers, then tiptoe down until I reach the door that says, STAFF ONLY, ORPHANS NEED PERMISSION TO ENTER. I take the bobby pin out of my hair and stab it into the keyhole. I move the bobby pin around until I hear a click. The door swings open and I walk in, silently closing it behind me. I run up the stairs and walk towards my corner, the one I curl up and cry in. But something else has taken up my spot. A mirror, shining bright and silver, lighting up the room with its luminescent glow. I walk towards it, it was beautiful. Intricate designs were carved into the golden frame. My arm instinctively reaches out, the silver glass moves as I touch it, it’s cold, like water with ice in it.