Chapter 9: Sasha
It was gone. All the left of it was still burning pieces of wood. No evidence was left to track down the men who had done this. Nothing was left to forage. The bodies were gone. No doubt they had raided my house before burning it down.
All my family’s belonging were burned to ashes, leaving me nothing to remember them except memories. Feeling in my legs left me, and I fell to the ground. I didn’t cry. I was all out.
“Dear, God,” a person sobbed. “How could this have happened?” I never told them.
All I could do was lie on the ground in my own deep pool of sadness. Everything had been taken from me: my home, my family, my life.
Someone had picked me up, and held me to them. I believe it was Sylvia. Her tears flooded down her face to land on the top of my head. They coursed down my black hair. That was when I stepped off my edge into the pit below.
I was ushered into the black car and the door locked beside Sylvia. My head stayed positioned toward the remains of my home, though, but my eyes took in nothing.
Except for the crying from the women, we drove home in silence. It was like a funeral for my life and my family’s lives that were over. The silence was worse than if the women just outright cried. But no, they held it in as best they could.
We returned to the orphanage, and I was offered to sleep in their room for the night, but I declined. I detested their pity for me. I returned to the room they had given me a couple days ago, which was thankfully empty. After closing the ugly curtains around the window, I then climbed onto my bed. I lay down. They were bunk beds, a triple set. I slept on the very top. Deeper.
Most of the other orphans were outside, playing with each other. I did not join them. I hated their carelessness and joy as they enjoyed the fresh air and companionship of each other. I would never become a friend.
I felt lost, like I was drifting in the middle of an ocean with nothing to stop me. I lay there, not knowing what to do. My eyes were fixed on one point, but I saw nothing. I didn’t see my house, I didn’t see my family, just…emptiness.
After a couple hours, I was shaken back to reality, by a knock on our door. Charlotte had come to check on me.
“Leila? Leila, are you in here?”
“I’m right here, Charlotte.” Usually, we used the term Mother before their name, as to show respect. I had when I first came here, but that stopped now. Deeper.
“Are you all right?” She was suspicious now. “Do you need someone to talk to, Leila, honey?”
“I’m fine, Charlotte. Thank you for asking and coming to see me.” My words sounded mechanical even to my ears, but I couldn’t care less. It was a hint to dismiss her, but either she misunderstood or just ignored it.
“My sisters and I are always ready to help those in need, Leila. We have been here for countless other orphans and we will be here for you, too.”
Her presence was annoying me now. I wanted her gone. “I know, Charlotte. You all have always been so kind to me, but I feel like being alone right now.” My eyes stayed rooted to the fixed point on the ceiling. Deeper.
“Ah, yes…yes, of course. I will extend the children’s outdoor hour so you may have the room to yourself for a bit longer. When they have returned, you can find another empty room if you need more time.” With that, she left the room. Maybe if I had talked to her, everything would have turned out fine. Talking to someone else possibly could have been an outlet I needed. Maybes were useless, though. What happened is far too late to change.
