Jack Parker

The show doesn't end until Ms Margery has sung her off tune song

The porridge was like vomit, stinky and looked like the skin of a very old lady who had never used sunscreen in her entire life. It was that bad. I looked around the table to see that the other kids were all gulping down the porridge with pained expressions. It tasted like phlegm, just less green.

"Mr Parker eat your porridge or you will not be fed till the day you get married, which by the looks of you will be never" Ms Margery exclaimed. She then went on to laugh at her own terrible joke.

Ms Margery was a large- no an enormously large woman who liked to make fun of little children. It was her favorite hobby. Her face was pulled into a permanent scowl and her makeup was plastered on like she did in the dark while on a rollercoaster. She walked like an army sergeant and she wore tight clothes that was quite hard to look at for anyone's eyeballs.

From the way I'm describing her you can tell I dislike the woman/ man. I mean she told me I wasn't going to get married. She can talk she's been divorced twice.

"I was just to good for them, so I got rid of them" is what she would say every time.

"Come on Jack eat your nutritious and award winning porridge" Luke said with a smirk.

"I'd rather eat my own organs than ear this crap"

"Well you better get married pretty quickly if you want to eat anything edible."

"Like that's going to happen any time soon"

The bell for classes rang and before you know the creepy lunch lady has grabbed my phlegm bowl- I mean my porridge. I bitterly walk to history and start to feel my eyes droop as the teacher rattles on about Napoleon.

My name is Jack Parker and after living on this earth for fourteen years I can safely say that I hate my life. But there are many reasons to back up my statement. For one I'm an orphan, I never knew my parents or have any recollection of them. Secondly I live in an orphanage with Ms Margery breathing down my neck every five minutes and I don't think I will ever have a family of my own.

At my age couples don't want to adopt me. They like the little babies or the cute toddlers not a sarcastic teenage boy.

But I still have a couple friends here in the orphanage, by that I mean Luke and only Luke. I met him two years ago when I sat next to him at lunch. We both complained about the lunch and ever since have been good mates.

But not everything is bad. I get to play soccer with Luke and we play pranks on an unsuspecting Ms Margery, so it's not all horrible.

I mean it can't get worse than this...can it?

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After a cold dinner of squishy lasagna, every boy in the orphanage went to their dorms and went to bed, except me.

The night was quite silent for New York city. There were no stars visible, but I knew they were there. The air is cold and bitter. I wish I could get out of this hell. I wish I could live with a family who loved me and cared about me. In other words the opposite of what Ms Margery it's offering at this orphanage.

After a while I decided that my eyes couldn't stay up. I walked back to my bed and closed my eyes.

My dream was as strange as any dream could get. A train the color of silver made its way on train tracks in the sky. From the windows children were laughing and pointing. Pointing at me.

The train was coming closer and closer to my window. The head lights were blaring. As they came closer I realised that the train wasn't going to stop. The train was coming closer to the window at a quicker pace. I stumbled back and yelled when the train went straight through the building. I raised my arms over my head.