Black Music
  • Reads 284
  • Votes 6
  • Parts 8
  • Time 55m
  • Reads 284
  • Votes 6
  • Parts 8
  • Time 55m
Ongoing, First published Apr 06, 2019
Hi! The name's Chrono and I'm turning twelve this year.
All my life, I've never set foot outside the orphanage because of my 'illness'.

Well, that's what the adults think, anyway.
The truth is, I would always go out to the city every chance I get.

Sometimes I went in mornings the caretakers were busy.
Sometimes at nights when no one was awake.
And one such night, I went outside.

No one knows who I am outside the orphanage.
Outside, no one knows who I really am either.
And, no one knows I've been living two different lives for more than six years.

Note that;
+All the characters, events and some places are fictitious and are totally random and any 
  resemblance to real people and occurrence are coincidental.
+Random words from different languages.

My first time writing long stories, but I hope you guys are willing to read it and enjoy!
All Rights Reserved
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Pinwheels and Dandelions by cjacks1124
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I was kicked around like trash on the streets. I was the book that nobody could understand or read, but without a care, they were quick to rip out the pages. I screamed for attention, but time after time, I was ignored. Nobody noticed me, so I made myself at home in my own shadow. They say there's light at the end of the tunnel -- I searched and searched for it, but it could never be found. Therefore, I lost hope as I hid in the shade and endured what seemed like everlasting pain. The little hope I did have was snatched from my arms. My baby brother was my life, and they took my glimpse of hope away. Home. Is that a word? Maybe for a family of some kind, but for me, I never had a place to call home. I moved from place to place. Unstable foster care, fighting for my life in group homes, barely surviving in detention centers, and running away from being mistreated as I made many benches my temporary home. The only thing that I was familiar with was a black plastic bag containing my dirty rags. I am too young to know what it feels like to survive. These are the cards life has dealt me and I am not meant to win; however, I easily lose without trying. It is hard for me to find peace. I am paying for my mother's reckless actions. I am trapped in a world where the sun has died because I am unable to feel love. I am unable to dream. Sorrow is my aura, and the sadness hugs me. My eyes are closed shut by the barbed wire fence from my eyelashes as they prohibit tears from falling. I am damaged. When will the morning come? Did the sun put up a fight last night, like I do every single day? If I can survive the day, I know the sun isn't dead. One day, I will awake to a glorious sunrise. Until then, I hope my brother keeps blowing his pinwheel, and I will keep making wishes with every dandelion I come across. For now, all I know is that everything was taken from me, and the only thing I own is my name.
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My life used to be pretty boring. Everything was average. Normal family, normal looks, normal house, normal job, normal life. The only non-boring aspect of my life was my best friend which was only because she always managed to mess it up somehow. I didn't really mind much because it kept things interesting. That is until she disappeared leaving me to care for her fatherless child with nothing more than a few hundred pounds and a sorry note. She did ruin my old life. She ruined everything that I'd actually cared for. My parents hated the fact that I was 'throwing my life away' for a child that wasn't mine. Not to mention illegally. I dyed my hair blue in rebellion. My own way of saying "F*CK YOU!" ...They kicked me out shortly after. I couldn't find a decent job in the area and the rumors became so vicious that I just left and never looked back. Old life: Destroyed, unraveled, completely gone. Let's see how long my new life lasts shall we?