Dragon Spire

Chapter one

Real quick author's note:

This is the first story that I have published so I don't know how good it will be. Please forgive any spelling mistakes or anything. Constructive criticism is much appreciated while mean comments are not.

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                 I run into my small dingy cluttered room and flop down on my old lumpy bed and just scream into my pillow. You know, screaming into your pillow doesn't really muffle the sound all that much, 'cause about thirty seconds later my next door neighbor and best friend ever opens my door and asks what's wrong. No wonder she could hear me, the walls between the dorms are so thin they might as well not be there. In fact Brandy and I once poked a hole through the wall in the corner so we could pass notes and stuff easier. The hole is hidden underneath my bed and concealed from view with some old blankets so the warden won't notice. Once again Brandy asks me what's wrong. I feel like screaming what'd ya think's wrong? I'm an Orphan, never knew my parents, live in a crummy orphanage, have been rejected by exactly 34 prospective parents, and just got back from another crappy day at school in a long line of crappy days at school. THAT'S WHAT'S WRONG!!!! Instead I just say into my pillow,

"It's nothing." Ha, what could be farther from the truth?

"Yah, uh huh, I'm not stupid Ivy Griffin, no one slams doors and screams into their pillows if nothing's wrong. Was school bad again?" Brandy asks worriedly.

I sit up and look at her. After a moment I say, "Yah. School is never good, and I guess I'm just fed up with everything and am nervous about the interview with a couple of prospective parents later this afternoon.'

"Really? Lucky you! Maybe they will finally be the ones!" Brandy squeals excitedly.

"Ya, maybe," I mumble half-heartedly. I highly doubt that after all these years my life will suddenly start going right this afternoon.

"Well, I have to work  on homework. Ugh. be sure to tell me how the interview goes! Don't forget!" Brandy tells me before leaving the room.

       I flop back down onto the bed this time looking up at the ceiling. After a few minutes of lying there I get up and pull out my chemistry homework and shuffle over to my creaky old desk. Plopping down I try to work on my homework to get my mind off things. It doesn't work. I pretty much just waste time until the warden comes to tell me that Mr. and Mrs. Flyne are here. Flyne. Huh, I wonder what they will be like. A small bit of hope surges up inside me. Maybe they will be the ones to give me a home. Hmm, Ivy Flyne, I like the sound of that. "No, stop it," I tell myself, "They're no different from all the other ones. You're only setting yourself up for disappointment Ivy."

     I follow  the warden down the four flights of stairs to the ground floor of the orphanage where the meeting room is along with the office, little kid's rooms, and the head mistress' apartment. There are six levels of this wreck called the Children's Home. We all just call it the Home. The basement has the dinning room and rec hall. Well at least what they call a rec hall. There is a old TV, two falling apart old couches that the stuffing kept falling out of, and several beat up tables. The dinning room is actually not that bad. It's the only room of the Home that I can say that about. Except maybe the head mistress; apartment, I don't know, I've never been in there. The tables in the dinning room are worn but not beat up or rickety. Some of the dishes are cracked or chipped but most of them were in good condition and they all are always kept clean. The second and third floors are for the boys while the fourth and fifth floors are for the girls. Boys are not allowed on the girls floors and vice versa. That rule is enforced very strictly. You are pretty much doomed if you get caught on the wrong floor. Then there is the roof. We're also not allowed up there but I go up there sometimes anyway. Mostly I go up there late at night and I can't sleep to be alone with my thoughts.  

      Finnally we arrive at the at the ground floor and we loose no time in getting to the meeting room. I walk in and I see Mr. and Mrs. Flyne. Mr. Flyne looks nice enough, but I don't much like the looks of his wife. She is very pretty, but she has a certain critical persnickety vibe about her.

"Hello Mr. and Mrs. Flyne, this is Ivy Griffin. I'm terribly sorry about the wait, Ivy's room is on the fifth floor." the warden addressed the couple.

"Oh it's quite alright, thank you," Mr. Flyne replied. With that the warden left the room and the interview started.