Chapter One

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SOPHIA

Who knew a world could have so much hatred.

Hatred. Violence. Greed.

It just isn't the way the world should be run.

There's been talk of the war for some time now, drifting through the breeze and the open window in our orphanage.

William and I have never got foster parents; no one wants two children, too much effort if you ask them.

So yes, we're still here, been here since I was ten. So that's, five almost six years maybe?

Anyway life is supposed to be made up of many different short chapters, changing often, making it interesting.

No such hope in that.

The war talk is the most interesting thing that's happened since we found our last carer dead in the chair. Heart failure they said.

More like an overdose in cigarettes if you ask me.

Nothing's ever celebrated here, surprising really that you can remember your own birthday, well except the gruff happy birthday from the cook Ms Kelly, oh and not to forget the handmade paper cards from the younger kids (they're made out of old newspaper).

But basically it's just William, Jimmy and Mila who keep me alive.

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