Why should I live if I don't enjoy living? what's the point in having friends if your friends don't care about you? why do people hate and love? what's the point in all these things if you simply don't care about life?
Hi, I'm Emma. I'm six years old and practically already grown up. my life? sucks. my parents? dead. my story? there isn't one, at least not yet. I live at the orphanage for little misses. let me just say that the title is all wrong. little misses? as if, we only eat a slice of bread and a cup of water each day and I only have one outfit; a pair of plain black jeans and a red hand me down shirt with a heart on it. my shoes, oh you don't even want to see them. they used to be pink flats but now they're just gray shoes with holes in them. my room only has one bed in it. I share my room with Alyssa. she's a big girl, twelve I think. she's really tall and mean. she always gets to sleep on the bed because she's older, so I sleep on the floor with my stuffed bear, mr boo. this is my shitty life now, ever since... the accident. I don't like to talk about it much, as a matter of fact I don't talk anyways so it doesn't matter. I'm mute as they call it here. silent, not a word. I don't need words to explain how I feel or what I want. I have myself who knows what I want or feel. I don't need anyone else's help. I don't speak because there's no one to listen let alone care about what I say. trust me if there was someone who really, really cared I would talk to no end. but there isn't so I don't talk, I won't talk, I never will! because there will never be someone who cares. I'm just a kid that no one wants. at least I think so...
Authors note~
Okay so this is my first story I hope you like it. plz follow me! I love you poptarts! now read on!
