Short Stories Collection

Abandoned

This is yet another rough copy of something I wrote a year or more ago. Enjoy, this one should be better grammar-wise.

I didn’t quite understand why my parents abandoned me and my older-by-three-years brother. I was six-months and my brother was almost four years. Despite the young age, he remembered it almost perfectly. He says it was a spring’s night, the first nice day/night of the year. He was almost completely dressed in black when he rang the door of the orphanage. He had no plans to go on in with me, instead he ditched me as soon as he rang.

 He also says that he was crying the moment the nursemaid opened the door and saw baby me; arms flailing in all of my cute glory. She picked me up, he said, as my shrill yet faint cries pierced the silent night’s warm air. Brought me inside. Became the women I’ve known my entire life to be my birth mother.

Until a week ago.
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It was a normal day, nothing important was happening nor were there any new adoptions that I knew of that day. It was around twelve o’clock in the afternoon by the time I managed to get out of my bed and to the kitchen, hoping it was earlier than the clock said it was. I was sadly mistaken- instead of the sweet smell of bacon all I smelled was my mother’s overused candles she kept basically everywhere.

 The adoptable children sat around the twenty-foot rectangular table, staring up at me as I made my late entrance in nothing but my bunny pajamas and my fabulous bed-head. I probably looked like a mess, but I ignored the stares as I sat in my usual seat to the right of my step-mother and besides my red-headed friend, Gabriella.

 You’re probably wondering why I’d be at an orphanage if I already had my mother to take care of me. To be honest, I don’t know, either. The orphanage became my home the second I was found on the doorstep of this very building almost fifteen and a half years ago. Since Momma didn’t have any proper paperwork, she legally renamed me Maria and became my new mother. Most people detested the word “new” when it was used in terms of family. It usually meant that their original parents were either dead or divorced, meaning that they had a “new” replacement of sorts.

 I didn’t hate it- how could I? I didn’t know anybody remotely related to me in any way or even my actual birth name. The word “new” has became my savior. You cannot hate what has saved you… if you did, you’d be a psychopath, because that’s insane.

 I looked out of the window as I got up from my seat to grab some food, which appeared to be bologna and cheese sandwiches from the looks of the others’ plates. I reached over the counter and grabbed a sandwich, sitting back down with my plastic plate in my left hand and a napkin in my other.

 It took a while, but finally the small-talk started up and I no longer felt like the center of attention. I wasn’t what you’d call ugly; dirty-blonde waist-length hair cascading down my back in soft ripples, hazelnut eyes that seem to constantly change color, and a light skin tone as I rarely go outside to do anything. I was just, self-conscience, I guess.

 “Nice of you to join us, Maria,” Mother said, faintly nodding her head in recognition. She had a slight edge to her voice, it wasn’t its usual soft silky sound but instead had a rougher type of sound, the way it gets when she’s hiding something from me.

 “We’ll talk after lunch, I assume?” I asked her, acting casual around the other children. Her only response was a nod, which was usually all I received during mealtimes and when I was in public with her.

 To most we came off as very proper and tight knit, strict even. That wasn’t the case at all, we were just simply very secretive and self-conscience about our public image. We were carefree when it was only the two of us: no other children to yell at us to stop our dancing.

 It took around fifteen minutes more, but finally lunch ended and my mother pulled me aside from the others.

 “Yes?” I asked.

 “Listen… you do realize what day it is, right?” She seemed concerned. Not a good sign.

 “No…” I warily replied.

 “It’s the day I found you.”

 That’s when there was a knock on the door, a shout from one of the girl’s bedrooms, and I started to smell smoke. All hell broke loose is a simpler way of putting it.  

Major brownie points to whoever figures out what happened towards the end! Go go go!