Why Can't Things Be Perfect?

Chapter Five; I didn't mean it like that

I could tell from the ways she explain everything she thought I was mad at her.

 When I honestly found it cute that she didn’t want to slam the door.

Just thinking about it made me want to laugh.

 At first I just chuckled to myself but I couldn’t help it I started to crack up laughing, it was the first time in years that I felt happy and there was something to laugh about.

She probably thought I was crazy or something and I wanted to explain to her why I was laughing but I couldn’t stop laughing long enough to.

From the corner of my eye I saw her twist around in her seat avoiding looking at me.

 Instantly I felt hurt and abandoned.

 I had never felt this way about any one before. I knew I need to explain this to her.

 “Rose, listen to me.” only when I knew I had her attention did I continue.

 “I didn’t mean anything bad when I started to laugh. I thought it was cute that you cared about my car and didn’t want to cause it any harm. And it made me feel happy and cared about and the only way I knew how to express it was by laughing. Please don’t be mad at me.”

 I pleaded it was most likely pointless; she probably hated me right now.

 I just wanted to crawl in a hole and die or at least get away from things.

I sighed and gave up.

 If this was how she was going to act then it wasn’t worth talking to her.

 I guess I just fell to fast.

Part of me thought that she was thinking the same thing especially when I heard her start to cry.

 All I wanted to do was comfort her.

But I couldn’t bring myself to I felt like a horrible person, I had only just met her and I made her cry.

  I knew that this wouldn’t have worked.

I’m not use to having friends, I wanted to tell her that so she would understand but I couldn’t bring myself to.

Luckily we pulled into the orphanage’s drive was, within a few seconds I was parked in the garage , no one but Ms. Watson and I were allowed to park in the driveway everyone else had to use the parking lot.

The second I cut out the engine Rose jumped up and out of the car grabbing her bags and heading for the door.

 I watch as she stopped and hesitated bringing her hand up to knock but then not being so sure about it.

She just kind of stood there, probably waiting for me to get out of the car and let her in.

I sighed and got up walking to the door and pushing it open.

Once I got inside I ran up to my room, I felt tears threatening to escape my eyes.

I have never cried before, not even when the others beat me up or when I found out that no one in my blood related family wanted me.

I got in my room and locked the door; thank god it was sound proof.

 I hated this feeling of helplessness, like there was nothing else to do.

 I had only met this girl, Rose, 30 minutes ago and yet here I was crying.

 Me the kid who never got hurt.

I hated every minute of crying, I can’t understand how babies spend all day and night crying, my eyes stung.

Finally the tears ran dry; I plugged my ipod into my ihome and blasted music.

 Not going to lie it made me feel better, the songs described how I felt, how I always had felt deep down. 

I had completely forgotten about the door that connected to the bathroom.

That was until Rose opened it and popped her head inside, obviously being cautious.

What did she think I would jump up and bite her pretty little head off?

Well that shows how much she knows about me.

 I was about to yell at her to get out when I saw the look in her eyes.

 She was hurt and scared.

I couldn’t imagine why.

Well I could but I didn’t want to, it was probably because of me.

 I sat up slowly and looked at her before patting my bed, letting her know that she could sit down.

 I had no idea what to say but it looked like she needed to be comforted, the only problem was I didn’t know what to do.

 My instanced told me to grab her and hold her in my arms but my brain told me not to.

So I settled on saying this “Rose, what’s wrong” she sat there for a time.

 I hadn’t the slightest idea how long, before she asked “What’s going to happen to me?” she looked up at me with big teary eyes.

 "I don’t know to be exact but you’ll probably be adopted in the next few days. Hopefully to a good family but we never know what will happen when pretty girls come here.”

I couldn’t bring myself to tell her what happened to the last sixteen year old girl who came here.

At the time though I was five, the girl, Nora I think her name was, only stayed for two days before being adopted.

A week later they found her dead on the side of the road, with investigation it was clear that she had been raped and tried to escape.

 The foster father had tracked her down and killed her, although they never found him.

 I think she knew what I was talking about; I mentally slapped myself that wasn’t comforting at all.

 Slowly I reached out and hugged her, gently rubbing her back.

As soon as she was in my arms she broke down in tears.

 I couldn’t help but want to protect her from all the evil in the world, but something tell me that she had already seen most of it.