After the first time I was adopted, my guardians and foster homes became a blur of faces and ces. Each family I went into always mistreated me and I was lucky to be smart enough to always be able to escape. It was like a whirlwind of being scolded and punished by the orphanage officials for either misbehaving with my foster parents or running from my foster home and then before I knew what was happening, I was being adopted again and thrown into another bitter family. Having a sweet quaint family just hadn''t been something I was lucky with.
Eventually, the officials got fed up with giving me out since I was bound to return or be returned so they just left me there. Even if anyone said they wanted me, they would shake their heads and say, "Sorry, that one isn''t up for grabs."
I personally preferred life in the orphanage too. Apart from the poor food- oh. The food could be so terrible and the harsh environment, there was nothing particrly bad about staying at the orphanage. Atleast, to me. It was better than staying in homes where I either get yelled at for something did not do or get hit just because my foster parents had a bad day and since there was no other way to vent out their anger, they would assume their adopted daughter was patiently waiting for them to take out their anger and frustration on her.
In the orphanage, my life was austere and boring and quiet and 1 liked it like that. I liked the serenity. I liked theck of chaos.
I lived in an orphanage until I was twelve years old. I had been living a pretty simple unattached life until a new family moved to the Vi next to the orphanage home.
It had been another day of terrible and insufficient breakfast. Still I struggled to get a te but by the time I was able to stretch my te to the servers, she passed me and the other kids behind me a sympathetic look that said'' sorry, you would have to be smarter during lunch."
It was not the first time I was given that look. It wasn''t the second time either. I had gotten used to it and I had also always been okay with waiting.
bill the next meal. But that day was differt. The previous night, I had given
more than half of my meal to the little gif that was just brought to the orphanage weeks ago because she was unable to get lunch and breakfast
Rumors had it that her not parents died in a car crash and she was the only Surviving one. But for weeks no rtive came to dair her Since she couldn''t live in the hospita, she had to be gotten out of the way. Obviously, this poor girl wasn''t used to fighting her way through hungry kids to get her te filed so she always gorpushed out of the wayN?velDrama.Org copyrighted ? content.
With barely my tummy rumbling and zero strength left in me scrambled to aer with my empty te
I had been sitting close to a window upstairs and I could look into thepound of the vile next to us kect seen the maids in the vi bring out food to throw away. The shocking thing was that most of the food looked perfectly okay to me.
My body trembled and my forehead dripped with perspiration as I made my way downstairs and stuck out of the orphanage home. My only focus was getting food in my tummy as scaled the fine tall shrubs of the vi and emerged in their backyard where the backdoor was located
I made sure no one was looking at me through the window I had exted before I ced my ear on the door to listen for focestecs. At first there were footsteps and voices andughter but they soon crited away 1 pulled at the door and as I would have it the door was miraculously unlocked. The aroma of whatever meal hey had made wathed through my nose and made my tummy grumble even more I followed the aroma and thankfully found myself in the kitchen
it was surprising how big the house was but what was more suprising was the kitchen. It was unbelievablyrge and food stuff was stocked in every part of the kitchen shat for a second there my hunger disappeared and I was stuck as to where to start from