Orphan

Chapter 1

Smoke. It knew her past too well, and it began to stalk her present. All the family photographs of the house were covered by it, becoming incense with the intoxicating fog. The burning scent was strong and long-lasting; years held onto tragedy like a mother to her newborn.

Jackson Perez was the holder of burdens. She knew them more than she knew the blood plodding through her uncertain limbs, as she walked with such slowness towards the same fires of her childhood. She knew flame by different pseudonyms. This one happened to be a shelter of some sorts - the place she was forced to grow into her hollowness since the age of 10.

Her mother and father were good people; they had their bad moments like any other human beings with a faulty conscience, but they were her parents. The fire had no right to consume them like unworthy prey; they deserved life. She deserved life. Death swallowed her whole as she entered the doors of St. Catherine's Orphanage. Six years have passed since then.

"Perez, Jackson, please report to the lobby! Perez, Jackson please report to the lobby! ". The woman would never shut her mouth until she got what she wanted, and what she wanted was Jackson. If only she knew why her presence was so desperately needed. She sighed from the comfort of her blow up mattress and dragged herself through the corridors.

"What exactly do you want from me at 6 a.m. in the morning?". She couldn't wrap her head around the idea that these people wanted to torture her more than they already have. Ms. Cullen was a short, pudgy individual with a somewhat snobbish vibe; she annoyed every particle that made up Jackson Perez, and she knew that the feeling was mutual.

"I would like to know when you plan on getting a job. You're sixteen now, definitely old enough to help out around here. If you refuse to be even the slightest bit appealing for a possible adoption, that is your fault, not mine. However, you cannot and will not live here forever without some form of payment. That is all." She waved her hand in a dismissive and disrespectful manner, motioning for Jackson to leave her presence.

Jackson was acidic, mixtures of the deepest oranges and the deepest reds formulated within her. She was steaming and corrosive, and left a path of water vapor behind her feet as she walked back down to the basement.

"Good morning Jackson "slithered from under the covers of the bed belonging to Abram Greene. He rose from his slumber and let his yawning bring him to the morning. Abram had a way of cooling down the life of Jackson Perez. He was her sip of vodka every now and again, but she promised herself that she would never be an alcoholic. She pushed him away with the winds of her brokenness. She would not let pain know her name again.

"Morning Abram, I'll be right back. I need to go for a little walk, but please don't tell Ms. Cullen l left." She was ready to leave out the back door when Abram's voice, all calming and pleasing like warm milk before bed, asked the question she knew she could never avoid.

"Can I come with you?"

"No, don't worry about me; you stay and keep an eye on the others."

Jackson went through the back door of the building, trying to be as quiet and discreet as possible. The morning breeze caressed her face and promised her just a second of freedom. The sound of the cars honking and the speed of the people rushing to work was a lot to take in for her. There was always an irony in her action; she yearned to leave and to step into the world but whenever she did she was apprehensive about it. Nervousness held onto her embark every time she saw new things or new people, and she never knew how to handle it. Her ability to breathe would then escape from her, and then the shaking would begin. But in the twisted depth of what was Jackson Perez, there was always a bit of pleasure in each attack. Which is why she always took these five minute adventures five feet from the back door of St. Catherine's Orphanage.

Jackson was diagnosed with social anxiety at the age of 12, and that has been the seasoning to the somberness that lingered throughout her life. She could never enjoy parties like others even if she wanted too; she could never go shopping because the mall was filled with too many different faces with many different intentions. She knew the world was filled with both good and bad people, but her body only knew and feared the bad in life. It was a blessing and a curse- she was a prisoner to her awareness.

Jackson went back inside the worn down building and sat next to Abram, who was too busy using his phone to realize that Jackson didn't go any farther than five feet from the door.

"Wow! That was fast, how was your walk?"

"Fine."

Then she dragged her heavy body to the kitchen to find something to eat. The kitchen was nothing more than an out of date microwave and a mini fridge. On top of the fridge was a box of cheerios, and in it was a small carton of milk, some cheese, and some left over Chinese food. She grabbed the milk and poured some on her cereal, leaving the rest for Abram. She did little things like this to show her appreciation; he made her feel as if the world was only heavy on her shoulders when he wasn't around. She could never explain these feelings through words, but she could through actions.

She returned to the basement and sat back next to Abram, wanting to start conversation, but her words were like water in the palm of a hand. As soon as she could form the words they fell through the crevices of her broken mind, so she didn't bother to say anything. She put her head on Abram's shoulder.

And she let the tears fall.