The weather was cold, close to dropping to zero degrees. In this box, which is apparently my new bed, I could feel it deep in my bones. I could tell that we have been travelling for hours. After getting out of the alley, the woman jumped on the nearest truck she could find. The truck was empty of any cargo. We didn’t even have to wait that long until it drove off.
The foul-smelling woman named Gina was dirt-poor as a rat in the sewer. She couldn’t buy even a piece of bread for herself or a carton of milk for me. She looked so old like my grandma Edith from my mother’s side, with crow’s feet and all, only that my grandma Edith was beautiful whereas Gina is just old, smelly and with yellow crooked teeth. But I know that I owe my life to her. She was my other savior. She even lent me her patched blanket to keep me warm in the train station where she said is my new home. The driver nearly caught us when the truck finally stopped. Gina, even with her old, tired bones, she ran as fast as she can, carrying me with her. She only stopped when she was absolutely sure that the man stopped chasing us.
I was grateful to her. A week without human warmth and she gave it to me without hesitation. She held me close even as I continue to cry out of hunger and cold, even if she, herself is freezing. Two days later and still no food, I could feel my systems begin to deteriorate. My body’s temperature rose as minutes passed. My breathing became shallow and I was wheezing. I wanted to cough out the phlegm building up in my lungs but in a state of weakness and with my muddled mind, I could only vomit it. I was growing weaker. My skin was cold and clammy. My eyesight was becoming blurred by the second. Right then, I understood the last words I heard from my father before the chaos.
“There’s no other choice but to dispose her. She is imperfect. She is weak. She would be useless to us.”
Even with my sharpened mind and senses I still couldn’t command my body to do what I want. I knew that if this goes on, my saviors sacrifices would be for nothing.
I could feel my consciousness slipping away as she mumbled apologies. What I felt almost seemed similar to how my savior felt before he died. Am I dying?
“I’m sorry, dearie” were the last words I heard from her before I blacked out.
‘Beep’ ‘Beep’
The beeping sounds of the machine echoed the room once again. Cables were once again placed everywhere on my body. Every four hours, a nurse would come and monitor my vital signs. She would play with my palms and toes, and make funny faces before she leaves the room. Nurse Jackie was a kind woman. I could tell that her profession suited her. She knows how to establish rapport with her patients and she is very skilled. It didn’t even hurt that much when she took a blood sample from me, unlike the other staff. She was a phlebotomist, she said. When the doctors and the other staff noticed, that I respond to her more, they decided to assign her to me. Since then, I would receive daily reports about her baby who was the same age as me. She would tell me of the games they played, what she ate, and more.
It has been five days since my confinement in the hospital, two days after I regained consciousness. I knew the date since Nurse Jackie would mutter it as she writes my vital signs in her small notebook. And on this day, I would be given to an orphanage, to meet my new brothers and sisters, as they said.
Nurse Jackie cried when we were alone in the room I was in. But she said that we would meet again someday. I cried too, knowing that this would be my third separation from a savior in just almost two weeks.
Before they took me away, Nurse Jackie held me close to her chest and I committed her sweet smell like the rose to memory.
I looked her in the eyes as we separate, her emerald eyes glistening with tears.
“Come on, honey. Your new brothers and sisters are waiting. You have a new home now. You will be safe. And everything will be okay.” Those were the words of Joanne, a worker from the orphanage. She is the daughter of the owner Mathilda Bugel. Their orphanage is called House of Angels.
It was true, I felt like I was finally home. I could feel the warmth of a family, the same warmth that I received from my mother, grandmother and my saviors.
There were occasional fights between the other kids but they treat me kindly, since I was the only baby at the time. I was happy and contented. I was able to act like my age, a six-month old child.
I stopped counting the days after that though. I was too caught up with my new family. But every time one of my new siblings were adopted, I would be reminded of the number the days I have already stayed in the orphanage.
Clement who was six years older than me, was like the older brother I never had. He would personally care for me, along with Alyssa who was the same age as him and Christianna who was two years old. Alyssa and Christianna were siblings by blood. Clement and the two sisters were neighbors at one point. They said their parents were the best of friends and the godparents of each other’s children. They lost their parents on the same day, when a crazy man went on a rampage and stabbed anyone he gets close to. It was on a Sunday, Alyssa’s first birthday, and they were celebrating it together in the Amusement Park. Their fathers died instantly with multiple stab wounds while their mothers had to suffer for a few hours in the hospital where they eventually passed away. With no other relatives and no other guardians, they were sent to the orphanage.
I heard from Joanna one night talk about them as she cradled me in her arms.
“Clement is a good boy, Stephanie.” Joanne whispered in her sing-song voice. She has taken to calling me by that name and everyone in the orphanage seems to agree with her. “And very ambitious too. He asked me to let them stay here for as long as we can. I told him that one day, they will have new parents. He said that he knows that. He only wishes to let Alyssa and Christianna stay together.” She chuckled. “He also has that determined look in his eyes when he said that he will become someone his mom and dad will be proud of.”
I quietly listened to what Joanne shared. I could imagine Clement saying those words in a voice of a five-year old boy. It has been a year since the tragedy that happened to them. Clement and Alyssa looked much more mature for their age while Christianna looked oblivious. It seems that Christianna does not remember what happened. Alyssa is determined to keep those nightmares away from her younger sister for as long as she can. She would tell her bedtime stories and would tell her about the good memories they had with their parents, everything, except for their death.
“*yawn* Now, shall we sing you your lullaby, Stephanie? It’s time for your beauty sleep, princess.” Joanne smiled even as her brown eyes looked sleepy.
Her voice lulled me to sleep.
Another day spent in the orphanage, the next days would be the same.
