Ranboo angst

The orphanage

Hello! I hope you all had a decent valentines day. Thank you so much for over 4k reads. I really wasn't expecting to get this far to be honest. Hope you all enjoy this, have fun!

Ranboo's POV:

Tw:

Abuse
Violence
Blood
Yelling
Mention of drugs
Mention of alcohol
Starving
Suicidal thoughts
Torture
Breaking mirrors

I had been at the orphanage for almost eight years now. My parents were unfit to have custody over me anymore.

Within those years, I had went through countless awful homes. Abuse was something quite common to me by now. Deep down I knew that a fourteen year old should have never been through that but I guess someone had to suffer.

In general, I believe my first and second homes were the worst experiences.

First foster parent was a middle- aged man who lived in an extremely sketchy appartment. His name was Mike Kennedy but I know that was merely one of his fake ID's.

Mr Kennedy often sent me to deliver packages that from my understanding, held drugs and various other illegal substances. If I were to do a good job, I would get permission to eat. At the time, I felt strong ammounts of fear when talking to the 'customers.'

Being a child of the age of seven was quite handy at the time, I could act as though I was lost if any police officers had stumbled upon the area. That's what Mr Kennedy had taught me, how to lie.

Around six months after I was originally taken in, Mike had deemed me not needed for his services and placed me back in the orphanage.

Thank god..

I don't know about you but I didn't want to be a well-known drug dealer at that age. He was a toxic man, who as far as I am aware was never caught for his crimes. Fear, was what he used to buy our silence. No one dared to speak up in fear of losing their youth.

Miss Johnson seemed like a good parent to those who had just met the woman. She was a local bakery owner who was well-liked by the small town she lived.

Behind closed doors, the malicious woman would torture thise she had fostered. Countless times, I was beat to a pulp on the ground, once we had passed out she would lock us in the wine cellar for hours on end. Not a single light source was provided.

Other times, she would press our face against the stove of the oven. If she needed an excuse she would always blame us for anything slightly bad that had happened.

Many more methods were used against us, her favourite however was alcahol. The sick wowan would force us to drink the bitter liquid and hold it in our mouths. Obviously, she made us spit it out I believe that was in attempts to try and keep us under her control longer.

As you can tell from these two, my previous foster homes were not the best. However, considering I am now fourteen no one wants me and my trauma anymore. Often, I was there to help the other orphans get settled. Many of the younger ones didn't stay too long.

For years, I saw them come and go. Many were happy now, I saw them on the way home from school. They skip merrily down the road, whilst I walked with my hood up and headphones in. To block out the thoughts that tried to hurt me.

Many of the injuries from the not so pleasant times had healed or scarred over now. I had a large burn mark on my cheek though, it scared most people off though. I hate it so much.

"You'll be okay, you're going to get out. Don't give up yet. Ignore the thoughts please. What would the other children think." I mutter to myself as I glare at myself.

God am I ugly..

No! Stop, please..

The orphanage is my home now. It's the safest I have ever felt. I can't do that to them.

That's pathetic, none of the staff in this place even acknowledge you. There's been countless times where they forgot to spare you even a slice of bread. Hell, you use your paper round money to buy yourself food. No one would actually care.

Pulling my arm back, I landed my fist forcefully against the glass as it shattered. Blood leaked from my pale nuckles as I stared at the broken shards. Loud ringing filled my ears, it hurt. Help.. why does my pain satisfy me.

I'm going mental, aren't I?

Oh well

Not like I was planning to be happy.

Hello again, jesus this was uh violent wow. I hope you enjoyed this. Umm proud of you. Take care of yourselves.