Don't Let The Cruel World Change You [Tom Riddle]

Olive McRidder believed that she was a completely ordinary five-year-old, apart from the fact that she was now an orphan. Olive wasn't there when her parents had died when their home caught fire, and in fact it hadn't totally set into her young mind. Death wasn't something she had yet learned to fear. 

It was raining outside, as she could tell from the window of the automobile that she was riding in. Olive was excited to be traveling all by herself, even though she didn't particularly know where she was going. Olive's nanny had come into her bedroom; face stained with tears, and explained to Olive that she had to pack up all her things at once. Being an obedient child, Olive did as she was told at once without any questions. 

The windows had begun to fog over and, as it had been Olive's favorite thing to do when any glass did such, she began to draw patterns on the glass. After spotting her in the rear view mirror the driver cleared his throat and spoke rudely. "Stop drawing on the windows." 

Olive sighed and leaned back against the red velvet bench seat and began to stare at the distant outline of buildings that were barely visible through the wet rain that had been falling against them. Olive hated the rain, but she was grateful that this hadn't been a thunderstorm, because that had been what she had feared most of all. 

Olive had decided that she didn't want to put the photograph of her parents that she had been holding in the trunk with her things, insisting that her parents wouldn't have been comfortable crammed in wit all her clothes and books. No one argued with her, the all just gave her sorry looks that she didn't comprehend. 

Looking down at the photograph she saw the face of two familiar people. Her mother was tall with the same long and curly dark mahogany hair as her own and the same large expressive chocolate eyes. Everyone had always cooed that she had looked so much like her mother. 

Olive's father was short and plump with blonde hair and a very large dark colored mustache. Olive had always laughed at her father's appearance, insisting that the way the mustache curled made him always look like he was smiling. There was an emptiness in her chest now when looking upon them that she didn't quite understand. 

The car had eventually lulled to a stop along the street corner. The driver did not bother to get out to offer the young girl any assistance or even a dry umbrella. He spoke curtly. "The orphanage is right down this lane. Wool's." 

It took Olive a moment of squinting through the window before she was able to even see to the end of the lane. The building there was squished between two other wrap around buildings. The sign had hung crooked as if it had been broken off. 

Olive fumbled with the door handle and eventually threw the heavy door open, wrestling herself out of the car and her trunk right behind her. Olive made sure to tuck her parent's photo deep into her wool jacket so as it would not get drenched. 

Olive found that she had quite some trouble dragging along the trunk, as it had been much heavier than she had remembered it being when she had put it in the car. That could have probably been explained by the fact that she had been given some assistance. Now she was all alone. 

By the time she had reached the entry path to the orphanage, Olive was completely soaked from head to toe, looking like a fragile kitten. There was a lady waiting for her at the door.  

The lady was older; her gray hair was pulled back into a tight and formal bun. The lady had a hooked nose like a beak and a very stern looking face to surround it. The lady looked quite scary. 

Upon seeing the child all alone she scurried over to her, offering her a dry blanket in concern. It seemed the lady wasn't even talking to her; "My goodness! Did they not have an ounce of pity to spare?! Not even to carry a child's trunk in the pouring rain..." The lady reached down and hoisted the trunk with ease, placing a careful hand along Olives back. "Come now, my dear. We'll get you settled in." 

No sooner than she was through the door, she had been subjected to a dozen of other children's curious eyes. Clearly it wasn't often that they had received a new ward. Olive had always been a shy child, and certainly never one for attention; she could feel the color rising to her cheeks as she followed the elderly lady through the narrow halls. 

Eventually the lady stopped at a door, pushing it open with difficulty as the door had gotten stuck due to its age and lack of use. "Here we are, dear. Home sweet home." The lady gave her a brief tour. "This is the wardrobe; you may hang all your belongings in here. There is a shelf up top for anything else. There is a table right there, with a drawer in the top. And of course, your bed..." Not quite knowing what else to say to the child, she spoke. "Make yourself comfortable." 

As Olive walked into her new room, she didn't quite see what was so sweet about it. Olive frowned with distaste. "This isn't like my room." 

The lady smiled sadly, knowing that many children so young have difficulty grasping what exactly an orphanage was. It was a pity. "I am sorry, dear, this will just have to do." 

The lady turned around to leave the girl, but Olive called out tactfully, never one to be rude to those in authority. "Thank you." 

The lady turned around, giving Olive a fond smile and answered her just before closing the door. "You're welcome, dearie." 

Olive sighed, and turned her trunk so that it was orderly against the foot of the bed. Olive took off her soaked jacket and hung it up in the small wardrobe, removing her precious photograph carefully; setting it on the small mismatched table beside the twin sized bed. Olive had yet to have a frame for it, so it lay flat. Setting her wet body onto the springy bed, for the first time since she had received the news of her parents passing, she cried.