Waterblade

One

3rd person POV

After almost 10 years at the orphanage, Nya wasn't like most girls her age. Most girls at 13 wore prissy pink dresses. Most girls didn't know how to build vehicles. Most girls didn't know how to fight.

Most girls had a family. 

As long as Nya could remember, she had been the only girl in the orphanage.

Nya had gone through a lot of misfortunes. Her biggest one being the fact that she lost her whole family in the Great September Fire that happened when she was only 3. That was the reason she hated fire. 

Her second greatest misfortune was that Ms. Mallory, the cook, had been put in charge of her. With the looks of a blobfish, and without a mothering bone in her body, Ms. Mallory certainly wasn't going to teach Nya how to be more lady-like. She didn't care for Nya pretty much at all, except when she was ordering her around the kitchen. And although Nya knew how to cook food for an army, Mrs. Mallory still yelled at her for the littlest things. For being too noisy or too quiet, or for gazing out the window at the rain or the seemingly endless ocean. She hated the kitchen just as much as she hated fire. If not more.

Every day after Nya finished her work in the kitchen, she hung up her apron and went to one of the only places that made her happy: the garage. She loved working on and making her own vehicles from a very young age.

As soon as she stepped into the garage, a voice called out to her, "Ah, Nya, my best mechanic! I've been waitin' for ya." "Hello, Brice," Nya called back. 

Brice was the country guy who helped people learn the ups and downs of fixing stuff. He was the one that showed Nya how to repair her first car.

That seemed like a lifetime ago.

She walked over to her personal part of the garage. For the boys, it was usually 2 or 3 to one part of the garage, but since Nya was Brice's favorite, she got her own special part of the place. she breathed in the peculiar scent that everybody seems to hate, a rich dark dank smell with strong motor oil overtones. Then, she started to work on her newest invention, a giant red mech with sharp claws and a jetpack. She had been working on it for weeks and she was almost done, it just needed a few touch ups. The invention convention was tomorrow and although she had other inventions to choose from, she felt like those were too helpless and weak.

Nya hated feeling weak and helpless.

When she finished her creation, she stepped back to admire her handiwork. The thing was taller than her with red coloring and gold highlights. She put on the armor and helmet and then climbed into the huge thing and started practicing motions with it. First basic things like running and walking. Then more complex things like punches and kicks. Time flew by as she practiced controlling her mech.

Brice walked in right in the middle of her practicing throwing her shuriken. "Woah girl, easy there," he said as he looked her contraption up and down. "That's one hefty machine you got there." "Thanks," she said as she jumped down from her mech. "Come on, dinner is ready."

As Nya sat down for dinner, a boy named Blaze scowled at her, and Nya scowled back.

Blaze was 16, and he bullied the younger boys. He threw rocks at the cats and kittens, he sabotaged others' inventions, and he couldn't stand that Nya was better than he was at fighting and swimming and inventing. He also hated her guts ever since she had won her first Invention Convention.

She looked around the table at the other boys in the orphanage, they all looked hungry from doing who knows what. Then the orphanage director, Mr. Miller strolled in. "Hello boys," he said, ignoring Nya completely. For reasons she didn't know, Mr. Miller hated her since the moment she was brought in, but loved Blaze like his own child.

🌊-🌊-🌊

Nya brushed the dirt away from the spot where she slept and rolled over onto her back, closing her eyes.

The stone floor was cold. Her only pillow was a burlap bag filled with leaves. Nya reached to touch her left wrist. On her wrist there was a golden bracelet with her red birthstone on top. She always wore it. No matter how much money people offered for it. It was the only thing she had left from her family.

Nya took a deep breath and willed herself to sleep.

But she did not sleep.

Instead, she remembered the week she lost it all.

Good luck with the cliffhanger!