Trust

I sit on the bed, holding my knees up to my chest. I swallow abruptly, forcing myself not to cry. I tear open my eyes and am greeted with the dull, dreary surroundings of the orphanage. I hate this place. I’ll escape one day. This stupid pain will be gone. I’ll make my own life. Just four more years. When I turn 18. I’ll get out. I hear a sharp bell, telling everyone to wake up. This was not necessary for me. I hadn’t slept anyway.

          I pick myself up and go to work, cleaning, and get lost in my thoughts. Thoughts about how worthless I am. Just another lonely girl in this messed up world. I don’t matter. Nothing matters, does it? I sigh. I’m fourteen years old. Fragile and lonely. No, not fragile, broken. He beat me. He would slap me and kick me and slam me against the wall. They ‘saved’ me and sent me to the orphanage. It is better than being with him, but I need freedom. I need to be treated as a human, not a number.

          Number 5. That was me. I don’t have a name. I’m not important enough for one. So, I responded to 5. Yep, that was me. Number 5. There was a series of beeps, signaling to line up because someone was going to adopt one of us. I sigh and set down my broom, knowing I would return to it in a moment. I was never adopted. I lost all hope when I turned 14. They only adopt the cute, little ones. Never the teenagers. I walk over to the adoption room, the only clean room in the orphanage. I slide up against the wall, behind everyone. As soon as head count was over, I slide down the wall, playing with my bracelet. It was a rubber one with my number stamped into it. When I was younger, I used to doodle on it. One time, I doodled ‘love’ and I never washed it off. Now, that’s the only thing it says other than the subtle 5. It was also the only proof I had that such a thing existed. ‘Love.’ That’s only for books.

          I am shocked back to attention when I hear my number.

“5, come here.” The guardian belted. The guardians are who ‘take care’ of us. I stand up, expecting to be told that I was not fit to be seen so I had to go back. This happens often. I am surprised to see 5 unrecognizable faces. Are they the people adopting? They are 5 teenage boys, looking presumably around 19 each, although one looks younger and another looks older.

          “Yes?” I ask, genuinely confused as to why I was called up.

          “Say hello to your new guardians.” The guardian says monotonously. My eyes shoot up and get wide. The guardian rolls her eyes. “Yes, you got adopted.” She turns to the boys. “Now, please follow me to fill out the papers whoever will be her legal guardian.”

The older one follows the guardian. The curly haired one looks at me.

“Hello, I’m Harry. What’s your name, love?” He says. Is this really happening? Am I getting adopted?

“Yes, you are getting adopted.” The blonde one says. I must have said that aloud. “I’m Niall.” He introduces.

“I’m Zayn.” One with black hair pipes up.

“And I am Liam. The one signing the papers is Louis. What’s your name?” The last one says.

“Uhh…” I say unsure of what to make of the situation. Then I figure it out. Of course! They only adopted me because they could get me to do whatever they wanted. They could hit me and yell at me because I am who I am. Worthless. I gulp. They’re just like Him.

“Sweetie, what’s your name?” Niall repeats.

“F-five.” I state, suddenly very scared of these four boys.

“Your name is 5?” Zayn asks.

“Yes?” I say more as a question. Just then, Louis returns.