Les Twins Imagines

Imagine 8- New Home (Larry)

Dedicated to: queengg14

I've been stuck in this orphanage for years, ever since I've been taken away from my family full of drug addicts and dealers. Since then, I've been counting down days by drawing small lines on the walls, like I'm in jail. You would think in orphanages the kids are treated with love and kindness. Well it's the exact opposite here. We each sleep on a mattress on the floor in a crowded building, with nothing but two long, yet thin, sheets. One for us to sleep on and the other to cover us. The food is disgusting and cold. I should be greatful for at least having food to eat, but who wouldn't complain when your food has been sitting out for hours, slapped on a paper plate, and served to you? The owners and helpers are rude and abusive. If you don't follow what they say, they'll either beat you with their hand or not feed you until you beg for mercy.

Ok, maybe that was an exaggeration. But they're still rude. Yelling and pushing you around. Forcing their "power" over you. Making you feel worthless. I only have 7 more years left in this hell hole, since I'm only 11. But until then, I have to look forward to the discouraging interviews for my "new parents." And if I'm being honest here, I've been let down, neglected, and looked over so much, I don't even want to look anymore. Neither do I get my hopes up as much as I used to.

"Gigi!! Get up, you have another interview today at 10!" Mrs. Hardwick yelled.

"Im not going." I replied, turning over to my other side. I felt her cold stare, burning through the back of my head, and I turn back around to see Mrs. Hardwick with her hands rested on her hips and her foot loudly tapping on the ground.

"Ok." I moan, she nods and I get up to make my pallet. (bed)

I go to brush my teeth and do my other morning necessities, along with taking a shower and changing into the few clean clothes I have.

I come back and grab my journal and a pen and head to the lunch room. Which was a regular room with three round tables and multiple chairs surrounding them. I sit down, not grabbing a plate, and open my journal to write my daily feelings.

I write:

Today I was bombarded with the annoying presence of Mrs. Hardwick, again. I have another interview at 10, it is now 8 a.m. So get ready for another disappointing day of rejections *jazz hands.* I wonder who-

"Gigi! C'mon hun. We have a special guest waiting for you." Mrs. Hardwick said, a fake smile adorning her face as she turned her head to a tall, brown skinned, and slender man in the doorway.

"But the interview isn't until 10. Are you sure it's my turn?" I questioned as the feeling of nervousness steadily consumed me. My eyes flickered back and forth from the giant blocking the doorway and the annoyance standing in front of me.

"Yes dear, Mr. Bourgeois is waiting for you," she said, with a hint of impatience straining her words. I quickly closed my journal, inhaling deeply in an effort to settle the nerves in my system. I stood slowly, eyes averted as I approached the man. The closer I got to him, the more I realized how considerably taller he was. As I stood in front of him, just a foot away, I could feel my neck begin to cramp at the angle I had to tilt it just to keep eye contact.

"Mr. Bourgeois, this is Gigi. Gigi say hi." I shyly waved my hand with a small smile, watching his lips stretch into one as well.

"I'll leave you two to socializing. I'll check back up on you guys in a bit, alright?" Mrs. Hardwick said sweetly.

Mrs. Hardwick led us to a room down the hall, separated from the others. I've been here hundreds of times, and each time I've been refused. I'm beginning to think there's some type of jinx over me.