Chapter 1

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10 years later-Victoria’s P.O.V

“GET UP! NOW!” A slurred and southern voice growled from down the hall. Oh no. She’s drunk again. “Hurry up, ya’ little twerp!” Man, I am glad I don’t have her voice.

I sat up in the squeaky bed and rubbed my eyes. I quickly changed into an outfit lying on the floor. We had to stop doing laundry as often because our sponsor thought all of the kids were gone so they stopped funding, but hey, it’s better than living on the streets.

I looked around at the empty beds. They were all adopted except for me. Well, not counting Johnny Parker, but we don’t really talk about him anymore. Or at least I don’t.

 You see, he killed himself after he found out what his parents tried to do to him. I just wish I wasn’t there just as he moved the stool from under his feet, but I wish even more that he was still with me here. He was my best friend and I still miss him.

I miss everyone that once filled the beds that are empty now. I’m the only one left, and it sucks. It sucks big time.

I walked out of the room and remembered something. Today is my eleventh birthday. Not that it matters to anyone, but maybe I’ll have a party with the rats later.

I walked up to Miss Helen and saw she was looking worse day by day. She had mascara running down her face and was dressed in a bathrobe covered in stains and crumbs. There were bottle everywhere from Vodka to French Wine. This is the reason why I have already tasted my first beer. I never want it again. I don’t know how adults drink that stuff.

“Maybe you should lay off of the junk food” I suggested as I carefully picked up broken glass off the floor. No doubt she threw a bottle at the wall again.

“And what is that supposed to mean” She burped and stumbled towards me in a threatening yet amusing way. I was surprised to see she could stand up from how long she’s been on the couch. ”Oh I get it. You think because your miss beautiful and perfect that everything you touch will turn to gold” Her face got real close to mine as she said “Well, news flash freak. You’re in an orphanage. This means you don’t have anyone to love you, everyone’s gone. Your parents died. The kids’ve all been adopted. Well, all except for little Johnny Parker”

“Then why do you keep me here? Oh wait. I remember. Your husband left you for a California blonde. So now I’m the only one to keep you company” I sneered at her. I hated her. No, I loathed her. I stared to glare harder at her and a vase broke, and then another.

This has been happening a lot lately and other things too. Just the other day, it started to rain right when I started crying, and as I cried harder, it rained harder. I even tried yelling and thunder hit, drowning out my voice. This is why she calls me a freak. Because of all the strange things I can do

“You little brat! At least I’m not a little freak whose parents don’t even love ‘er!” Her breath reeked with alcohol as she shrieked each word. I didn’t believe my parents were dead because she would say things like this and make up other stories to make me feel worthless.

“At least I don’t waste my days sitting on a couch and bitching about her life and how fate wasn’t on her side. Well boy do I have news for you. Fate isn’t going to help out a drunk!” I yelled at her, but then suddenly regretted it, for she raised her hand and slapped me across my face. I squeezed my eyes shut as I let the stinging pain soak in.

It felt like lightning struck my cheek, and it burned. She may be a woman with weak manners and a weak heart, but she definitely doesn’t have a weak hand. Then I felt it again, but on the other cheek. I must have looked as though I were blushing.

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