My story could start whenever I want to start it. Actually, it probably began when I was one. But I can’t really remember that far back, so let’s go to be being six. I remember that day. It was a Friday, and every Friday, the orphanage would take us all out to somewhere special.
Today though, they had decided to take us to this big open park in central London.
It was a really warm day, so my friends and I decided to go to play by the lake. I knew we weren’t allowed to actually go into the water, but it somehow felt much cooler when we were stood by the water.
Anyway, we were watching the ducks swim around happily, when this big kid came to us with all of his friends. Now, I was the one in the group who, as my house matron put it ‘is too over-confident’, so at first, I decided to ignore them. But then, as bullies do, they decided to go after the smallest of us, Millie.
She was only four at the time, and you could tell she was frightened. The others went to go and tell Brenda, the lady looking after us, but I wasn’t going to leave Millie by herself. So, first I’m telling them to go away, then they began to laugh and tease me about having no parents.
Whenever someone brings up my parents, it brings up a lot of mixed feelings that I do my best to suppress. I’ve heard so many different stories about their death that I just didn’t know what to believe. For all I knew, they could have still been alive and living in a cave somewhere. All I knew is I was that I was dropped off at the door of the orphanage sometime in October.
So, anyway, there’s these bullies making fun of my family. Now, I’ve learnt over the years that the best thing to do when this happens is to wait until I know exactly what emotion is going to hit me.
This time, it was anger. Serious anger. I was actually beginning to worry for the people around me, because I’d never been this angry before.
I remember the temperature suddenly dropping, and the wind picking up rapidly. But, after that, nothing. All I remember is being wet, and Brenda scolding me for playing so close to the water.
The newspapers the next day were talking about a freak wind that was so strong, the water had managed to leave the pond, pick up three unnamed teenagers, and then return to its original form, completely undisturbed. No harm was done to the boys.
From that day on, my life was never the same. Every time I was angry, upset or even happy, something inexplicable would happen, and I was always the one who got blamed. I mean. I had no idea how to make a parrot explode, or set the ducks on fire. But, somehow, some way, I was always blamed. The amount of times I went to bed without dinner are so many, that I was never an obese child.
A few weeks before my eleventh birthday, after Clarisse had pushed me into the sand pit, the giant grandfather clock, which was inside the house, smashed to smithereens, so my party was cancelled. I didn’t really mind, I guess. I mean, I doubt I would have had much fun anyway, and I still get every single one of the presents that I was owed. I only really had two friends at that nursery; Amanda and Jayden. Amanda was three months younger than me, and Jayden was two years older. I suppose the only reason me and him became friends was he stood up for me when Clarisse was bragging about how her mother was a famous singer in Hollywood and my parents would rather die than have to raise me as their child.
It had always been the three of us, through thick and thin. At least until Jay got a place in a top boarding school. Now we only ever saw him on holidays, and sometimes not even then. He made new friends, so he stayed with them some of the time. But it was alright. He still wrote to us when he could, telling us about his teachers and new friends.
One thing I did notice though, was after he left, there were a lot more accidents happening. I had no idea what was happening, but I had just got used to it that I didn’t really think about it too much.
