Aliferous

The Thompsons

The gloomy November atmosphere perfectly reflected young Vera Thompson's mood leaving the clinic, quickly followed by her husband, Wesley. The appointment had been devastating to her. This was the fifth doctor to tell her that she was infertile. Wesley swore he didn't mind, but she saw the look in his eyes whenever it was reconfirmed.

"Oh, darling, it's alright, really," Wesley said as he caught up to her, engulfing her in a hug.

"You're just saying that," her voice started breaking. "We've talked about having kids for ages, and now we can't." She buried her face in his shoulder, tears streaming down her face. Her next words muffled. "We can't have kids because I'm broken."

At this proclamation, Wesley pulled back and cupped her face. "Hey," he started softly. "Look at me. You're not broken. Who cares if we can't make a kid, the world's overpopulated anyways. There's plenty of kids in London, let's just take one of them, or five, however many you want. It's probably for the best, honest; my impeccable eyebrows would clash horribly with your snout." This was followed by him pecking her nose.

"If anything, it would be the mound of flesh you call a nose that would clash with my cheekbones."

"C'mere." He brought her back into a hug, kissing her hairline. "Let's go find the prettiest kid and make it ours."

It didn't take them long to find Wool's Orphanage. It looked like a dreadful place. They concluded that no matter what kid they adopted, it would be eternally grateful to be taken out of the wretched place.

The interior was just as, if not more, depressing as the exterior. The dim lighting and a rundown but clean feeling was a perfect formula for a dismal childhood. Wesley rang the bell at the front desk.

"Hello?" Vera called out.

"Yes, yes, I'm coming." An old lady hobbled over to the desk. "How can I help you?"

"We erm," Wesley glanced at Vera only to see she'd done the same.

Vera turned back to the woman. "We'd er like to adopt a child?" She smiled brightly at the end to try and compensate for it coming out like a question, nudging Wesley to do the same.

"Yes! A child would love one of those." Tapping his fingers on the counter and looking around, Wesely asked, "How would we go about getting one?"

"I suppose you could have a look around." The woman slowly got out from behind the desk and began walking down a hallway. "Boy or girl?" she asked without turning back to look at each other. The two glanced at each other, stumbling over their words.

"A girl?" this was whispered and met with a growing smile from Vera.

"A girl, please."

"Good, that's the only one we have left."

"Sorry?"

"We've been bought out. The rest have either aged out or were taken in by the state."

"Oh."

"She's only still here since we got her yesterday, poor thing. Brought here by the same man who took another one years ago. Strange boy he was. She stays in his old room."

"How old is she?" Vera asked, trying to make conversation.

"Turned two in September, I believe. The man, odd name he had, think it was Mr. Dunbarden, something like that, brought her birth certificate with him when he dropped her off. Dunno why he didn't just keep her if he went through all that trouble to find her birth certificate. Said she was the kid of some of his former students." She stopped a few feet away from a door, turning back to face them. "Right, here we are. I'll be back later. If all goes well, we'll bring out the paperwork."

Peering into the room, Wesley and Vera observed a little girl sitting on a grey bed with her back turned to them. She appeared to be gazing out the window, contemplating life and the two years of experience she had. Her curly black hair was glossy and shoulder length.

As they entered the room, her head toward them. At that moment, Wesley and Very knew that they would adopt her. Her big silver eyes looked at them; she was just so adorable. Vera walked toward her, trying her best to look friendly, bending to the little girl's eye level.

"Hello, what's your name?"

"Chara."