Broken Love || The Music Freaks AU

Chapter 6: A Hard Life

Daisy's POV:

I pull back the mauve curtains letting the bleak light shine its way through the desolate chambers of my room. The sharp morning air pierces my skin as a quaint shiver runs its way up my spine. The trees and grass sway gently from the wind and the great white clouds slowly tread across the sky.

I pull myself up on the window sill, huddling my knees close to my chest and gazing outside the dusty window. I watch as the birds soar peacefully through the ocean-like sky, landing on the soft grass and the dancing branches as they chirp in delight. 

I had always loved that view. I recall spending hours gazing out into the world, curious about what it would be like. I turn my attention to my room. The yellow paint on the walls had gradually begun to chip, and the wood floorboards stabbed splinters and loose tiles, making it a challenge to walk across them. My bed was full of dust bunnies and the blanket that rests atop it had strands of fabric sticking out and nearly always gave me a rash from its scratchy surface. 

That room. Oh, how I despised that room. Compared to the other kids in the orphanage, my room looked the worst. The orphanage I stayed at for my first eight years was a run-down place in the middle of nowhere. And as you can imagine, they didn't have much money to keep it upright. 

The people who owned the orphanage only used what little money they had for food and better living chambers for their favourite kids. Clearly, I was not a favourite. 

Our caretaker, Nancy, rang a bell from downstairs. That was her way of waking us up and telling us to get ready without having to speak. Nancy was a soft-spoken woman who happened to be timid and extremely paranoid. 

I climb off the window sill and catch my reflection in the cracked mirror of my room. My long white hair flowed down my back, trailing along the soft seems of my yellow flower dress. My hair was decorated with a small daisy ornament, something Nancy had given me years ago. 

I open my bedroom door with a creak, it stays squeaking even after I walk away and hurry downstairs, eager to get there before all the other kids. Nancy smiles calmly upon seeing me. She takes a strand of my white hair and lets it fall from her hand. I may have not been the owners' favourite. But I was definitely Nancy's. 

"You can wait that the tables for your friends," Nancy said in her meek voice. I resisted the urge to laugh as she called the others my "friends." They all hated me. I'm not sure why, it may be because I was the smartest of the lot, or because I always drew attention on the rare chance someone did visit our orphanage. But whatever the reason, they wanted nothing to do with me. In fact, I'm sure they wanted me dead.

I take my seat at the elongated picnic table that lay in our dining room. Empty plates and unused napkins dressed the table as I waited patiently for my food to be served. After a while, other kids start piling into the dining room, all shooting me daggers as they walk in. 

It took just under an hour for all the kids to be situated at the table. I could feel my stomach roaring as Nancy slowly took our plates one by one and slapped food on them. Eventually, I got my food and started to dig in.

Once a week, Nancy would treat us with warm buttered bread that all of us saved until last. That bread was the only thing I ever looked forward to in that wretched place. Nancy left us to eat our food and I was just about to take a bit of my bread when a large stubby hand grabbed it off my plate.

It was a heavy-set boy, and although I can't remember his name, I do remember that he hated me most. "Give that back," I say. The boy gives me an awful smirk and takes a large bite of my bread while staring at me. A few kids laugh around us. I feel my blood boil and my face burns in anger.