All I Want • Alex Gaskarth (Adoption)

Sometimes Quiet Is Violent

"Lexi! Can you come down here?" I sigh, walking to my door. I can't ever be left alone in silence.

Miss Marie always has me do something during the day, as everyone else is at school. It varies from me doing chores, to attempting to cook. It's made to seem as if I am "energetic, helpful, and not on the brink of insanity." Of course I'm not insane, actually I'm nowhere near. I just have walls I built around myself, and I hardly let anyone in. Anyway, I'm given things to do so I'm not sitting in my room all day. Makes me look 'productive.'

Miss Marie is at the point where she feels I won't get adopted, too. She hates how I act when people come by. I stay quiet, and the other kids mess with me and I get in trouble. Towards the end of every visit, she would send me off to get the mail. That way, by the time I get back the visitors are gone. Usually.

'But Lexi, mailboxes aren't hard to get to. The people would still be there,' you may think. But no, that's not how it ends up. You see, we live in a gated community. There are buildings and trees everywhere. It takes about ten minutes to walk from the orphanage to the gates. Our city contains many gated communities. Even if you aren't in one, it feels like it. It's like a city policy, to keep people safe. Doesn't always work, but it helps, I guess. Though then again, there aren't too many gated parts of the city. I don't even see the point in gates, to be honest. It's not like you can't just walk through them, or drive if you have a car. Pointless gates to hold nothing out.

After the ten minute walk to the gate, you'd look to the right. That's where long rows of mailboxes are. More like a huge box, separated into smaller parts. Using a key, you open them. Then you make the ten minute walk back. I don't mind it, I like the quiet. 'I'm in my element,' is a good way to say it. It's often when I go get the mail. Miss Marie does it too, when she drives into town.

"Helloooo? Snap out of it," Miss Marie demands.

I quickly turn my attention to her. I nod to her, a notion for her to go on.

"We'll have visitors later. Someone looking to adopt," I nod at her and walk away.

I know the drill. That means make sure things are tidy. Since the other girls get home any minute, they have to help clean and fix their rooms.

Before cleaning the living space (or living room, whatever), I head to my room. I quickly shove on a white Of Mice & Men muscle tank, and place a red plaid button-up over it. I decide to keep on my black skinny jeans and vans. Literally the only jeans I have are black skinnies. The way I prefer. Blue jeans look weird too me, almost unnatural.

I make my way back down the two floors of stairs. I notice the other kids have gotten home from school. Sometimes it sucks that the school bus can drop them off so close to the orphanage. It makes them home sooner.

I mentioned before having two best friends. One is my kitten. The other is Ember.

Ember is fifteen. She knows how I feel about everything. She's the only person I can talk to, in any voice range. Basically, I can talk loudly with her. Not my usual quiet whispers. She has brown hair, like me. But as I have grey eyes, she has a light blue.

We have a game during the time where we sit with visitors. I should tell you about our placement for that and how it works.

Whenever visitors come, we have to sit in the living room downstairs. There are many sofas closer to the wall, where most of the girls sit. Ember and I sit on bean bag chairs off to the side of the sofas. There are about fourteen girls in our side of the building right now. Fifteen girls including myself.

As visitors come, they sit on the sofas slightly across from everyone. To make it easier, we have three sofas against the wall at the back of the living room. Across from that is a coffee table, sort of as a barrier. Against the wall across from us, lie two sofas for visitors. They then tell their names, and whatever else they want to say. One by one, girls from the sofa stand to shake the visitors' hands. After, they say their name and something else. It's a quick process, but annoying. Trust me, it'd have you rolling your eyes.