They Got A Smile [Under Revision]

The Black Sheep

Story and Written by Zachary

Before we start i would like to give you the quote that it motivate me to make this kind of stories
"I'm proud of my heart. It's been played, stabbed, burned and broken but somehow it still works"

•this is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental

• The Black Sheep is the first story in "They Got a Smile" Chapter 1. There is something wrong with their behavior after adopting some orphans, but despite the many threats, they will lead into a terrifying twist.

Joey
Hannah
Eleanor
Ricki
Jericho
Kurt
Kevin
Marlena Andeza

This is the beginning of my story, a tale of how I was born into this world in the year 1991. My mother, Marlena Andeza—known to many as 'Mari'—was a name that echoed through the halls of hospitals, whispered by doctors, citizens, nurses, and even acknowledged by the government. In 1989, she was celebrated as the best caregiver, a local legend for her unwavering dedication.

I came into this world at Andeza's Little Hospital, a sanctuary that belonged to my mother. She juggled the roles of caregiver and doctor, earning a reputation as the hospital’s shining star. But behind her accolades lay a dark secret—she was sexually harassed by a coworker and, six months later, discovered she was pregnant. The day I was born, her sobs resonated through the sterile corridors as the pain gripped her, and the nurse hurried her to the ICU.

Despite the agony and heartbreak, my mother chose not to abort me. Instead, a compassionate nurse took me to an adoption center. My name is Joey, and my early years unfolded within the walls of that center, always hoping for a family to call my own. Finally, a couple expressed interest in adopting me. Ricki and his wife, Eleanor, envisioned a home filled with love and compassion, raising children to be kind-hearted and responsible.

Their first child was Jericho, followed by Hannah. They also welcomed twins, Kurt and Kevin, who, despite their mischievous nature, were endearing and beloved by the family.

By 2006, I found myself in a beautiful mansion, living with other orphans. The married couple held special IDs that allowed them to leave the property, scanned meticulously at the gate for security. This mansion, adorned with rules and regulations, became my home. The fountain sparkled under the sun, and the garden bloomed with life.

Eleanor insisted on family dinners, emphasizing togetherness and early bedtimes. Surrounded by my new family, I felt a wave of gratitude wash over me. Ricki and Eleanor’s biological children, Ricki Jr. and Elena, welcomed me warmly, easing my nervousness and timidity.

As days turned into weeks, my initial joy began to wane, replaced by a growing sense of unease. Kurt and Kevin's relentless bullying wore me down, chipping away at my self-esteem. Their torment left me feeling vulnerable and soft-hearted. Desperate, I confided in Ricki and attempted to tell Eleanor, but she was not in her room. In my clumsiness, I accidentally scattered some documents. Hastily, I tried to gather them, unaware that I left one under the table.

When Eleanor discovered the misplaced file, suspicion clouded her eyes. At dinner, tension crackled in the air as she placed the file on the table, demanding to know who had invaded her privacy.

"Who the heck entered my room and looked through my files without my permission?" she asked, her voice sharp.

Trembling, I confessed, "Mother, it was me. I apologize. I didn't read it."

Before I could finish, she struck me with a slipper, the sting of the blow mingling with my shame. Her anger was palpable, her words a harsh reprimand.

"Shut your mouth! No excuses. Go outside and hold this big candle in your left and right hand. When it melts, you can leave and go back inside."

She locked the door, her gaze filled with a cold fury. My brothers' laughter echoed around me, adding to my humiliation. Kevin's taunting words cut deep, "You should be aware next time, Joey."

"Guys, would you please give mother a break? She's having a hard time right now," I pleaded, my voice a whisper.

Eleanor seemed to be plagued by a restless sleep, her face twisted in the throes of a nightmare. At midnight, a piercing scream shattered the silence—it was Hannah. We raced to her room, only to find the door locked. Panic surged through us as we broke down the door, splintering wood injuring Ricki’s hand. Inside, the sight was horrific. Blood soaked the bed, and Hannah, in a frenzy, was scratching her hand with a blade, her screams reverberating through the room.

Ricki managed to stop her, but she fainted, blood staining the curtains. He took her to the hospital, leaving Eleanor behind, unaware of the chaos that had unfolded.

Outside Hannah's window, fresh blood gleamed in the moonlight, a haunting reminder of the night's terror.

End of Part 1

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Please excuse my typographical and grammatical error. This is my first story with a first experience of writing.