Orphan in Limbo

Prologue

Author's Note: That's how I imagine Odette Beatrix as a custom character of Emma Roberts.

That's Odette's POV in her diary, scribbling notes about her life. 

Warning: This chapter might be bland and disinteresting until the impending chapter it's going to be more dynamic.

Well, hello dear reader of my diary! I am Odette Beatrix Martin Howard. A 18 year-old girl, who has never known and got the opportunity to know my biological parents. My creators who made me from flesh and blood.

All I can recall as a vague, almost vanishing memory from my mind with them is when I was a few days old newborn only, they took me away from my parents' hands and sent in St.Ursula's orphanage, spending a couple of years in this snake pit.

When my journey in St.Ursula's wasn't one of the best, due to the fact, I was encompassed by other children, sharing the same deplorable destiny like me, in the other Florida's orphanage where I was transmitted years later after some of the nuns were disappointed of my rebellion and always blindly believed the predatory bullies' lies, it wasn't better than St.Ursula, to be honest.

Before to rush up and carry on with my monologue about the second orphanage where I have spent almost each moment of my life, let's go back in Boston.

I was literally a few days old baby when I was formally transferred in a place where godforsaken, neglected even abandoned by God himself, children were in the same position as mine. What I genuinely realized, I wasn't all alone in sharing a common, morbid story. There were other children whose parents were obligated to throw them out whether if they wanted or not. I wasn't treated as an equal in this institution at all.

Some children were amiable, whilst others were exceedingly bullies and relished to slather their time in harassing either physically or mentally innocent, particularly obedient and virtuous children like me. I didn't have any friends there, although I attempted and I failed to befriend with some of the friendlier without hesitancy, because I lived with the reputation of a love child, whose parents are unwed and revered members of the church. That's all what I know about them. I strongly believe they love me and they do actually worship me since day one when my first breath was inhaled. Day first when my first high-pitched cry escaped my subtle lips as everyone were already aware of my roar. Endorsing a new life. What I knew as an additional fact about my parents was that they were blameless. I mean, It's wasn't their fault to end like a love child in orphanages. The church and their reputation were murderously endangering them, of course! The vicious claws of the nuns, who deprived me, seperating me away from the small family who encircled me promptly after establishing in this world.

The nuns in St.Ursula were sufficiently malicious to unlock my other light. Light, I'm usually exposing just because of the nauseating norms and rules which aggravate everything, not letting us to have our own carte blanche though the borderlines are fatal. Aggravating literally everything, due to the fact I'm not keen fan of them at all.

I remember perfectly one day of October when I was five-year-old young girl, who befriended with one girl named Serena. All I can remember about her was that she's not only an affable, compassionate and doting pal, but also we're namely playing daily in the outskirts of the orphanage's yard, whether throwing at one another snowballs, creating snowmen and snow angels together or finding ourselves laying on the carpeted ground of multicoloured, crispy leaves which have already tumbled down from the gradually stark trees as they were bleak for its autumn season until the early spring dawned.

Unfortunately, in the dying days of the spring, Serena was missing and I thought at first, she wasn't in mood to come and play with me, nor she wasn't feeling well and consequently she didn't want to pass the sickness on me. The days advanced reluctantly, far from like blazes. It resembled like sluggish, apocalypstic sand in a hourglass that descended, calculating its remaining time. Little did I know what happened to Serena. The days turned weeks even in months. I didn't see Serena anymore. One day, I came to the conclusion, she was adopted and I couldn't be more content for her sake to being adopted, loved and encompassed by foster family. Then I was friendless as soon as I figured out Serena is no longer amidst the orphans, the children, forsaken not only by their biological parents, moreover by God himself.

When I was just 6 years old myself, one of the nuns blindly believed one of the compulsive bullies' lies, clouding her philosophy and mind as well, grating her from the truth as she opted to punish me with slaps though I bit her fist, subsequently she yelped in agony and pain and ordering to transport me immediately in another orphanage, which is exactly located in Florida.

My days in St.Ursula were then reckoned and my goose was cooked as well.

When I arrived in Florida's orphanage, nothing seemed changed at all. Especially in my case. I abided friendless and desolated child all over again. Nobody alleviating me in each way. Even more the children were coarser and taunting me, factly, they heard rumours which were spread via the vicious nuns that I am a love child of a nun and a priest. At least, I was proud of being their child though I hankered to see them one day or whenever in the future ages later after I was being deprived from their lives.

Let's not talk about when I was only 12 years old girl, one widower wanted to adopt me though he was notorious and a hitch yielded me to assimilate and ponder deeply in my grim thoughts and mind that he didn't seem innocent at all. When I smugly rejected to being adopted, he gripped me by my mane of chestnut tresses, tugging me as I shrieked in pain and protests, asking for help though I kicked him in his groins. I fled successfully as quickly as possible from this malicious widower, who had detrimental intentions. After the happened, I have never seen him again, fortunately.

On my 16th birthday as I had sufficient amount of money and I was working as a barista in one of the nearest cafes, one German woman with such firm, howsoever, eloquent accent ordered a coffee for herself and I was humming to myself, thereafter she complimented my voice and offered me to work with her by singing along on stages.

As soon as the time progressed, we became fond of one another in no time. Not only the audience worshiped and admired both of us as vocalists, further, I earned the love from people, who doubtlessly aren't aware of my story. The story of my life, of course!

The orphanage resembled eventually hell, in my opinion. The stages and cabarets where we sung in local bars and clubs became my new home with Elsa's aristocratic, marvelous mansion she shared with the love of her life, Massimo. Luckily, they had one child, who was mildly younger than me and I was doted on their small, nevertheless, valiant and loving family. It was actually a daughter, named Everly. Everly was so alook like her mother. She had the same alluring, silver-tongued voice just like her.

They were like my family especially Elsa and Massimo were like my second mother and father. I have shared each fragment of my young life from my birth until nowadays. I have always relied on them. I left school when I was 17 years old, giving up the education at last. Even my classmates bullied me until I became a singer, singing duets with the German emigrant altogether and they commenced to like me until I left the institution. When I left the orphanage as soon as I turned 18, I rented my own flat, where I'm living and it's no far away from Elsa and Massimo's home.

What it flabbergasted me was actually possessing talent which I have never discovered by myself until a professional singer, former Freak show owner and actress told me! I have always wondered from where I do possess this kind of talent. If it wasn't actually my singing to rescue me from being a tramp, otherwise I would work such casual jobs, trying to cope financially.

Even Elsa told me about her mortifying past and how Massimo helped her which rendered me to love them even more. Neither of them was a saint, nor I.

In the meanwhile, I got addicted to the alcohol to numb resiliently the pain and agony of my past as demons that haunted me incessantly. Even more I began smoking when I was just 15 and one of my classmates offered me a cigarette by taking a puff of it, consequently thinking it's awesome until I got obsessed with smoking and in every short break I fled the school's building, hiding in one of the corners by smoking though my classmates were being abhorred by me.

Eventually in my late-teens, I became not only more cold-blooded, furthermore coarse towards the majority of the people with a couple of exceptions as well.