Story cover for Orphan by blackbutterwebnovel
Orphan
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    Parts 41
  • WpHistory
    Time 3h 7m
  • WpView
    Reads 93
  • WpVote
    Votes 1
  • WpPart
    Parts 41
  • WpHistory
    Time 3h 7m
Ongoing, First published Mar 10, 2020
My name is Evelyn Lisa Giovanni.

It has been a whole a week since I left the Orphanage.

A lot has changed.

I have been stuck here for four days.
My food has run out, my last droplet of water has gone.

My friends have betrayed me and left me all alone to defend for myself.

I am writing this as I am not sure if I will make it out alive. My adoptive parents dropped me at the academy believing I would make it out.

But I do not feel the same way.

The headmaster has given us an utmost important task.

To locate 10 items that have been scattered across the forest.

There are 100 candidates competing with me and knowing the academy. Only the best survive.

And to make the situation worse.

One golden bell has been found and there are only 15 remaining.

I don't know if I have what it takes to find all these items.

I am tired. I am scared. I am cold. And I am hungry.
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DIABOLIC SERIES 3 All my life I've lost my breath. It would happen over the simplest things, if I stretched too high to catch a ball, lifted something for too long, if I sneezed, if I talked. Other times I would loose my breath because I had a panic attack, or was yelling or being yelled at, if I was exerting myself on a physical level. Having the wind knocked out of me is a familiar feeling. But I didn't truly know what it felt like to loose the air in my lungs, loose the feeling that has kept my alive my entire life. I didn't loose it when I fell in love, I didn't loose it when I found out one drunken night with the girl I love would mean a baby, I didn't loose it when I found out that I'd actually be a father. No, I lost that when she told me that she doesn't love me. When she spit in my face how much she can't stand me, how I've ruined her life, that she doesn't want me in any aspect. I'm not her 'type' whatever that means, seeing as she quite willingly had sex with me. Her saying this made this ugly, lonely and depressing thought hit my diaphragm. Violet Thompson is carrying my child. And she despises me for it. The way I came to this conclusion was simple, Nonnie- -that's what I call her, since her middle name's Noel and I wanted something to call her that if I shouted it in the middle of a crowd, only she would turn to and know it's me- -told me that all she wants is someone there. A father for her baby, a physical presence. Not a mind, personality. Not a person. A body. A shell. I've been a dead man walking. And I was that shell, was just a body... until I found him.