Bruised And Broken

Every night, I sing myself to sleep. I've been doing it since I was a little girl. I'd do it when my parents kept me awake at night with their yelling. I'd do it after they'd beat me, just because I came home a few minutes late. I even did it when my little sister died because she was to weak to handle the beatings. And now, I still do it. I do it at the orphanage I was brought to after my parents were arrested for child abuse.

Its comforting. It makes me feel safe. I used to cry, but crying never made me feel better. It could never make me feel safe, or make everything bad in my life disappear. And it cant take away the pain. Every night, I have nightmares. I have flashbacks of the beatings. They scare me so much. Sometimes, I can almost feel them. But singing makes me feel better. It can't change everything that's happened to me, but it can make me forget. So that's what I do.

The other kids here stay away from me. They don't understand. They don't understand why when people try to touch me, I flinch away as if they had burned me. Or why I have so many scars. But why would they? Its not like they know what I've been through. The adults here do, but even they don't understand me.

I just sit by myself in the corner all day. Nobody talks to me. Or even looks my way. Sometimes I hear the adults whisper to each other. “That girl is so strange.” they say. “Nobody will want to adopt her.” And they're probably right. I have been here since I was nine. I'm sixteen now. Nobody ever wants to adopt a teen. They always want the babies and children. Even if I were to be adopted, I would have a hard time getting used to it. I've always had trust issues ever since I was little. There's only one person I do trust, the only person I've ever trusted. That person, is me.

* * *

Today is the first day of November. I've always loved the colder months. It gives me a reason to cover my scars. They're all over my body. On my arms, legs, and back. I even have a few small ones on my face. I try to avoid looking in mirrors as much as possible. They are a constant reminder of what happened.

We're supposed to have visitors today. Some people are looking to adopt a kid. I've heard they're really nice. Its not like it matters though. I doubt they'd pick me. I plan to sit here in my little corner like always. Maybe they wont even see me. But nothing ever goes the way I want it to, and of course, that's just the opposite of what happens.

I didn't even notice when they came in. So I was even more surprised when two tall figures stood over me, not even two feet away. I looked up slowly and my eyes met theirs. Something about my expression must have looked wrong, because they stared down at me with concern.

“Are you alright sweetheart?” the woman asked. I hesitated a moment before answering. “Yes.”

It came out as a small whimper, and wouldn't be surprised if they thought I was pathetic. “What's your name?” “Lane Whitman” The woman smiled at me. I hadn't noticed until now, but her eyes were a beautiful green. Almost like Emeralds. “I'm Miranda Wells, and this is my husband, Carter Wells.” “Hello.” said the man next to her. Unbelievably, I smiled too. I hadn't smiled in a long time.

“How old are you?” “Sixteen.” “How long have you been here?” “Since I was nine.” Their eyes widened, as if this shocked them somehow. “Wow, Really? That's a long time.” Said Carter. “What happened to your parents, if you don't mind me asking.” “They were arrested, and I was brought here when they lost custody of me.” “Why were they arrested?” I didn't like talking about it, but for some reason, I decided to tell them anyway. “Because they were abusing me, see.” I said as I pulled my sleeves up my pale arms, revealing many scars.

They were speechless. They stood and stared at my arms in disbelief. Miranda looked like she wanted to cry. “Oh I, I'm so sorry. That's terrible. You poor child.” I pulled my sleeves back down. “It's not your fault. You shouldn't apologize.” “I know, but that's just wrong. What kind of sick people would do that to their child?” “That's not even half of them. I have more on my legs and back too. My parents used to hit us with belts, Burn us, and even starve us. They would never feed us. We only ate once a day, and that was at school. On the weekends, they would give us both a sandwich the whole day. I was nearly anorexic when they took me away.”

“What do you mean us?” “I had a little sister. She was just five years old when she died. My parents beat her so much she couldn't take it.” I had tears in my eyes now. Whenever I thought of her, I would cry. I miss her so much. But I couldn't let them see me cry. So I held back my tears. But they didn't. They were crying. I was touched that they cared so much. Nobody ever did. The woman wiped her tears and got down to my level. “Lane, no one should ever treat you that way. Never let anyone do it again, okay?”

I was surprised at her words. Did this woman really care about me that much? I didn't know what to say, so I just nodded. She smiled and wiped her eyes, then stood back up. “It was so nice to meet you Lane.” she said. “It really was.” Carter added. They smiled once more then turned and headed in the direction of the orphanage's main office.

I couldn't help but wonder who they would adopt. Part of me really wished it would be me. But I could only hope. Why would a nice couple like them want to deal with a pathetic girl like me? I would be too much of a responsibility for any couple. Sometimes, I wish I could be normal. I wish I could have a normal family that loves me, and have a bunch of friends like most teens. But that won't happen. Even if I do get adopted one day, I will never be normal. I guess some people are just born to live like that.

I was snapped out of my thoughts when the orphanage owner's voice came booming out of the speakers in the ceiling. “Lane, Come into the main office please, thank you.” I had no clue what she wanted. But I got up and did what I was told anyway. I never get called to the office. I couldn't help but wonder what she wanted with me.

I entered the office, and closed the door behind me. She was seated at her desk, but the couple was nowhere to be seen. I could have sworn that they came in here. Maybe they had left and I didn't even notice. “Lane, how are you?” I was confused. Did she really just ask me to come to her office to ask how I was? I didn't answer, and she smiled. “The reason I asked you to come in here Lane, is because I have something to tell you.” Now I was even more confused. I took a strand of my long auburn hair and twirled it between my fingers, something I always did when I was nervous.

I waited patiently for her to tell me what she had to tell me. I was nervous and anxious. I couldn't think of anything she could possibly have to tell me that was so important. “Lane, your being adopted.”