The Orphanage Rose

Chapter 3

It’s hard to stay silent when you’re angry.

No, I’m not angry, I’m mad.

Not even that, furious.

Breakfast is almost over but I haven’t eaten anything. It’s rotten anyway. But that’s not the reason. I’ve spent all the time furiously glaring at the landlady, who is also known as Miss Moreau.

The plates are brought back to the kitchen by the same five girls who brought the meal yesterday, I’m glad I’m not a kitchen maid. Their hair is cut of short so they don’t accidentally fall in the food. Their dress is white but probably as old as the orphanage itself, their skirt is ripped open at several spots.

Miss Moreau slowly rises from her fake majestic chair.

Her tiny fat legs stuffed in tights today, which almost caused me to gag.

On the inside I want to shout at her, pull at her perfectly styled bun, make her clean the floor with her own tongue.

But yet I can’t.

After breakfast Cecile, a few others and me have some free time. We’re only allowed to go as far as our necklace reaches.

I forgot to mention that. The necklaces.

As you may have noticed, Miss Moreau is very possessive. She sees us as her slaves so she doesn’t let us leave. At least, not very far. A few tried, but ended up dead. Miss Moreau hung up their heads above the fire pit, not as a reward no, to scare us. To make sure we won’t try to leave. The necklace reaches for fifty meters from the orphanage.

We can go within those fifty meters, but obviously not behind them. Then, our necklace gives us an electric shock, which causes us to fall unconscious for two days. Miss Moreau gets alarmed and you’ll get punished.

And if you wondered, no, we can’t take this necklace off.

It’s quite a struggle to sleep with, but you learn it over the years.

I walk with Cecile to the front door. I’ve barely seen the city, maybe once per year. Miss Moreau really doesn’t like me.

As in, hate me.

 There are a few people on the streets, not much. People don’t come to this part of the city often. I agree with them. I have seen more cities in my life than most of the orphans, beautiful cities. Much prettier than here. But still I enjoyed taking a walk under the gray clouds. Cecile seemed to enjoy it too, since her lips were curved in a smile and her posture seemed relaxed.

I see the necklace-line in the distance, we slowly approach it.

‘’Weird that such a regular line can kill you,’’ Cecile says.

‘’Things are weird,’’ I reply while turning around, ‘’Let’s head back.’’

We arrive at the orphanage at 1 PM.

Most of the girls are working, but a few aren’t. They are sitting in the living room, or in their bedroom. I hear tiny footsteps coming from behind us.

Cecile turns and her eyes widen.

The triplets slowly approach us, two of them, the blonde and the redhead, with a sad look in their eyes.

The other one with brown hair, had only one eye.

‘’What has happened?!’’ Cecile asks, tears streaming down her face.

I fight back tears as I grab her hand and begin explaining everything to her.