Bonjour, je m'appelle Belle.
HA! Are you kidding? Like seriously... you expect me to know French? OKAY. Because that's realistic. Me and that language do NOT mesh.
Any whore... My names Isabelle, call me Belle.
I have blue eyes, light brown hair. About 5foot 3inches small, I'm short... nfhvhfnhjdnjhf
My age? 18 yearrss youngg.
At least I get to leave this hellhole soon. I've been in the same stupid orphanage since I was at least 2... I've always been the loner though. That's what happens when you live in Manchester, England. In an adoption center. Filled with directioners,
Well.... I guess I should tell you one thing before you guys assume anything.
I...
Hate...
One Direction.
Everyone assumes just because I was born in Bradford that I know or have some special connection with Zayn.
That's actually one of the reason I continue to be a lon-
"ISABELLE! Come here, love." Rebecca called
She's the only 'worker' here that I like.
I walk out to see Becca (My nickname for her) with a smile plastered across her face.
"...What?" I asked warily
She ran over to me "Yanno how you're supposed to be leaving between tomorrow and next month? WELL... those picture we sent out to the donaters worked and you have new parents!!!!!!" She squealed
"What?!?!" I screamed and started ju,mping around like a kangaroo.
Oh my god.... I have parents... OH MY GOD.
In stopped dead in m y tracks...
"I'm gonna go pack!!!" I yelled
I ran to my room and foundL my suitcase.
When I was dine I realised it was 9:30.
I gitta go to bedded.,I wanna wake up early.
I plopped on my bed and as soon as my head hit the pillow I fell asleep.
~
"Wake up wake up wake up!,!!" Becca squealed jumping up and down on my bed then sitting on my stomach.
"Nuhhvfuryvyudfbvfuybvu whaaaat?" I groaned
"Their coming in a half hourrrr. Get upppp" She insisted
"get out.'
After she laft I got changed into a be-you-tiful baggy shirt tucked into a floral pencil skirt with black ballet flats. I put my hair up and glasses on and walked out with my suit cases.
I skip down the hall, reaching the end, I stop dead in my tracks.
Oh... my... God.
It ISN'T.
