Chapter 2
Claire rudely awoke as Ms. Sylvia, the headmistress, threw her starched white covers off of her, interrupting one of the best dreams she had had for the longest time. It was about her father, running towards her, apoligizing for leaving her. He had ran inside St. Agie's with arms open and had his arms wide open. When she ran to him, he had picked her up and swung her around, just as he used to do.
Perhaps it was yet another sign.
Ms. Sylvia was a strict woman in her mid sixties. Her hair was always done in a tight bun, which were paired with large, circular brown earrings. She was also the headmistress of the orphanage.
"Claire, please get ready to go. Pack your things and brush your teeth. I'll wait for you below the staircase. Get ready in five minutes," said Ms. Sylvia, her voice stiff, then turned on her heel and walked briskly away.
Claire sat up, now fully alert. Did her wish come true? Had her father come back to finally bring her home? What was about to happen?
Wasting no time, she hurriedly threw on her very best outfit: skinny jeans and a nice clean white blouse, then ran to the bathroom. Whilist brushing her teeth, Claire also started to dump the rest of her belongings into her small duffel bag, which honestly wasn't much.
As Claire finished packing, she threw a few extra pads into the bag as well, and started yanking a comb through her messily knotted hair. Today was her lucky day. It seemed as if her hair actually wanted to cooperate with her. At last, she stared in the mirror and smiled. Perfect. As a final touch, Claire took a swipe of strawberry lip gloss on her lips. This would be the happiest day of her life.
She dashed down the staircase, not bothering with the rails, and met Ms. Sylvia, her heart racing.
I wonder what we're going to do once I meet him. Will he still remember me? How will he greet me? What does he look like now? As Claire continued to descend down th steps, her heart pounded even faster.
"Claire, I'd like to introduce you to..." Ms. Sylvia began.
Jumping with excitement, Claire ran straight towards the man and yelled,"Daddy!"
"Looks like some one is excited," said her "father." Claire quickly released her loving embrace. The man's voice was too deep and scratchy to be her father's, unless he went through puberty again, which she highly doubted. As she slowly looked up, she realized the man didn't have her father's face either. He had greasy black hair and a stubble growing on his chin. His breath reeked of alcohol and his plaid shirt had one too many stains.
Ms. Sylvia looked mystified by Claire's sudden outburst. Ms. Sylvia knew she was the shy, quiet type. Shaking her head and clearing her throat, Ms. Sylvia restated her introduction. "Claire, I'd like you to meet Mr. Smith. He was ever so generous enough to adopt you and he will be your guardian until you turn eighteen."
Claire stared at the man. This wasn't her father. What happened to her wish?
"Come on, lets go Cindy. It's a long ride back home," Mr. Smith said cheerfully, his adam's apple bobbing.
Claire frowned at the man. Her name wasn't Cindy. It was Claire.
"I don't want to go," she stated adamantly. If she moved, she might never have a chance to see her father again.
"Of course you do," he replied with a little more force.
"No. I am waiting for my father to come back," Claire retorted defiantly.
"You are not! I am now your legal guardian, so come along!" thundered Mr. Smith as he almost shoved Claire outside the building.
Claire stubbornly sat down on the hard gravel, crossing her arms.
