Mysticality (ON HOLD)

Chapter 1~Faylinn's POV

        Me and Nixie were left at the doorstep of this dreary place when I was 6 and Nixie was just a newborn. I don't remember anything before, there was just a note that said our names and birth date: Faylinn Pebble, born August 16th, Nixie Pebble, born April 9th. That is all we have as a connection to our former lives. Your supposed to start remembering things when your three, so I should remember my parents, whether they were nice or abusive, strict or carefree, dead or alive. 

Wrong.

        It seems like all my memories from before we were left at the orphanage is just a blank. I've looked in the Head Caretaker, Ms. Grover's office, but theres only that note and our birth certificates. Besides that, nothing. No notes about why we're here, if our parents were dead or something.

        Ms. Grover always says we should forget about the past and concentrate on the present, which is basically her saying in her snooty, obnoxious voice that sounds like Snooki's: "You should all forget about your birth parents because they obviously hate you if they left you here, so just go clean the dishes without even thinking about them. Because this is your new life and you should be thankful you aren't sitting on the streets." If our orphanage was a reality tv show, Ms. Grover would be in the spotlight. She used to be a model, but now she isn't because she has a bad reputation for being mean to the other models and going on super bad diets and smoking and drinking and being a prostitute. So now the 35 year old blonde is here,

        And you might be thinking, because Ms. Grover is such a horrible caretaker, all of us orphans bonded and grew close together and became super friendly.

Wrong again.

        Well, all of them are super close, except for me and Nixie. Angela and her posse like to bully us. Why? We don't have any disabilities or deformations, me and Nixie have pretty good grades in school, we're nice enough people, we have the regular girl look, brown hair, hazel eyes, sharp nose, luscious lips, clear skin. You might think its because her posse needs someone to bully to keep up their status or they're jealous, but its because of the tattoos on our arms. Not tattoos as in skulls and flaming hearts with an arrow shot in it, but some kind of foreign language in a dark blue color that swirls around from our collarbone down to our hands, with some pictures, like fairy wings and water and a tail and also a crown. It used to just be one on Nixie's arm and a few below my elbows, but every year on our birthdays, the tattoos extend longer. We've been sent back to the orphanage multiple times because of it, and also had multiple appointments to remove the tattoos, but lets face it: the tattoos are a part of me and Nixie, they aren't just ink, they're our flesh and blood, some kind of clue to where we come from, even though I've looked up tons of languages to see which one matches our tattoos, but nothing matches it. I feel like I can read the tattoos, if I want to, but I don't. Because there's no way I can read a language I don't even know exists. We're forced to cover them up with long sleeves at school, even in June. But during summer break is when we can let them show. I'm not ashamed of my tattoos, neither is Nixie, despite what Ms. Grover says. Like I said, it's linked to us and our past.

       

        Right now, I'm 14, and Nixie is 8. I'm sitting in the cafeteria of Anna Leigh Banks Middle School, anxiously awaiting my test scores which I get to find out next period. I'm too excited to eat, so right now I'm just poking at the soggy mashed potatos on my lunch tray. Its not like I want to eat cafeteria food, either. Nixie is probably at recess, I think, in Drey Street Elementary School's playground. She's in Mrs. Englehart's 4th grade class. Nixie's school life is slightly better than mine. She has a friend named Sara, and nobody really bullies her because of her tattoos. I guess things are okay for her. I used to have a friend, Leanna at the orphanage, but she was adopted by a couple in Florida. Me and Nixie haven't got any chance at being adopted. Nobody wants two kids who have tattoos. We've tried to cover them up, sure, but the adoptee's always catch a glimpse see the tattoos, and they're suddenly not interested and go over to 4 year old Yasmin beheading barbie dolls.