I awoke in a cold sweat, drenched from head to toe. That dream has haunted me for so long, but in the last year it had became even more persistent and recurred a lot more than usual. Guess I may as well get use to it, I am the weird parentless child, am I not? The only place I had ever known was this stupid orphanage. Of course, I am not the only teenager who has to stay here, but I am the only one who never has met her parents. All of my fourteen and a half years have been traced into the woodwork of this white room, with the barren wood floor and colorless walls. They weren't covered in photos of what my life was like before I found myself here like the other kids' were. Nope. They were blank. Kinda like my social calendar.
At school, I was an outcast. Nobody talks to me unless it's out of cruelty. Or pity, I guess. That “poor li'l socially awkward kid with no parents.” They never say anything about it, but they don't have too. I've already heard all the rumors. Sigh.
I glanced over at my small clock I had gotten down the street at the local Dollar Store for five of the dollars I had earned by watching the younger kids for Ms. Door, the kind lady who opened this orphanage and took us all under her wings. It was five AM so Ms. Door would already be up making breakfast. I knew I would not be falling asleep anytime soon, even though it was a Saturday, so I went ahead and threw my robe, another thing I bought with “babysitting” money, slid on some shoes, and marched down to the small kitchen area to see if Ms. Door needed any help with her cooking.
As I walked, I made sure to be quiet and not wake up the others. Only five other people were here right now. Three of them were younger than ten, and they were the ones I watch every day after school for Ms. Door. She pays me five dollars an hour, sometimes more than that. The other two were a set of twins, both fifteen and in the grade above me in school. They had just arrived a month ago and were still mourning the death of their parents. It was very sad, and I couldn't imagine living with someone for fifteen years and then ing out one day after school they had died. One of the younger ones was their little brother. He is only two. I felt worse for him than for them, because he would not have the pleasure of ever really knowing his parents. Boy, that sure sounds familiar.
I reached the small kitchen area and knocked cautiously on the frail wooden door.
“Come in, dearie!” a kind voice called out. I smiled and poked my head in the door. “Oh, Aurelia dear! C'mon in!” Ms. Door said kindly, running a hand through her graying blond hair. She was dressed in a pair of worn jeans, a soft looking sweater, and an effervescent smile that was always present on her lightly wrinkled face. She was somewhere in her mid-fifties, but she still jogged several miles every morning at four AM, before coming in and whipping up a small breakfast for herself and anyone else who was awake.
“Hello, Ms. Door,” I said, smiling at her groggily. “Would you like any help?” I asked.
“No, no! Go on into the dining room and I will bring you out some pancakes and scrambled eggs,” she said. She had stopped asking what type of breakfast I would like years ago, because she already knew the answer.
“Are you sure? I can clean up afterward,” I offered.
“Nah, I don't need no help dear. I may be old, but I can handle a li'l bit a cleaning up,” she said, a smile warming her face. She has the type of smile that seems to come straight from her soul, not just a fake, semi-friendly grimace like I get from most everyone else. I smiled back and yawned, drowsily attempting to rub the sleep from my tired eyes.
I turned around to walk through the door that led from this room to the large dining area, but I stopped when I felt eyes on the back of my head. I peeked over my shoulder, only to see Ms. Door had fixed me with a strange look that chilled me to the bone, a look I couldn't place, mostly because it looked so foreign on a face usually fixed with a smile. I quickly turned the doorknob and scurried from the room, feeling as if I had just seen something I shouldn't have.
