It had been ten long and depressing years. Ten years since my parents had died in that freak accident. Ten years since I had been sent to "Happy Children" orphanage. (For some reason, you couldn't find any happy children). Ten years since everything changed.
I've always wanted a mother. A mother who would cook me mouthwatering meals, delicious delicacies. A mother who would tuck me into my snug little cot with rainbow colored birds at night. A mother who would attack me with hugs before I left for the public school around the corner. A mother who would love me, an experience I've never felt before.
I choked back a whimper. Crying was not permitted in the orphanage. It was a silent agreement that most people agreed on because it was a sign of weakness; having a soft heart. Soft hearts were a no-no. Hard hearts were a must.
The bell above the wooden door jolted me out of my self-pity, making a horrendous "dong, dong, dong" sound that made my ears ring. I sprinted to lunch, running as fast as my short, stubby legs would carry me, trying not to get trampled by the sea of towering legs surrounding me. Much to my dismay, my short legs had failed me. I was the last one to arrive in the cafeteria.
Please vote and comment! It would make my day!
YOU ARE READING
The Orphanage (short story, completed)
Historical FictionThomas is a boy at an orphanage in the 1950's. There's a bully at the orphanage and he tries to overcome the bully with his best and only friends.
