Prologue
A five year old Claire sat on a rusty chained swing, in late November, waiting for her Daddy to come back with her candy. It had been nearly three hours. She was cold and hungry. The park was almost abandoned.
Claire still waited, scared and confused. Where had her Daddy gone? She scanned the playground, wondering if he was hiding. But he wasn't.
Five minutes later, as the last mother was getting ready to leave, she stopped by Claire.
"Where is your mommy, sweetie?" asked the kind woman, her auburn hair drizzled with rain droplets from the light sprinkle descending from the dull grey sky.
"Gone."
"How about your father?"
"I don't know."
The next bits were a bit hazy, it all happened too quickly for poor little Claire. The woman had whipped open her cellphone and called Child Department, notifying them of an abandoned child. People came up to Claire, picking her up and buckling her in the backseat of a car. And after what seemed like seconds, they had arrived at an orphanage. It was a flat roofed, dull musty, red bricked place. Graffitti was written all over it. That would be her home for the next nine years.
Eight years and 364 days later...
Chapter 1
Claire stared outside her barred window, sitting on her sour-smelling mattress in St. Angie's Orphanage for Girls. It was starting to rain. The dark, thunderous clouds had already rolled in, looking scary and intimidating.
Bad things always happened whenever it rained. First, her father had abandonded her. And now, just a few minutes ago, her best and only friend, Rachel, had been adopted.
Sure, Claire knew that was good, and was happy for her. But now, she felt alone. She had no one to talk to.
Just then, a high pitched sound rang through the air.
Sighing, Claire got up, for she knew that was the dinner bell. Claire slowly trampled down the dirty staircase, holding onto the rusty handrail as they were instructed to do so everytime they went down to eat a meal.
She then lined up behind a bunch of other girls in the restroom, all waiting to wash their hands with the scraps of soap left.
It was the same old routine.
After washing up, she headed to the kitchens and retrieved a dull brown tray, an empty brown bowl, and old silverwear that had long ago lost their shine.
She led her tray down the counter, with the lunch ladies piling brown glop of who know's what into her bowl.
Same old food. Same old lunch ladies. She missed Rachel.
Sighing once more, she picked up her tray and sat down on the far corner of the cafeteria. No one ever sat there. One table leg was broken, and there was always chewing gum on the bottom of the table. The wooden chairs had no backing, and the wood itself was peeling.
It was the loser's table.
Which was exactly how her peers treated her as. She was a loser, a freak, something no one wanted. Not to mention, she had been here the longest out of all the girls.
Claire didn't blame anyone. She wasn't smart, with her average B grades at school. She wasn't prettier either, with her dirty blonde hair and large brown eyes. Freckles attacked her skin. She was also shy, closed in. Claire wouldn't let anyone in, especially after what her "loving" father had did. And don't even mention her mother. She had died at birth. The only person she had told was Rachel, and that was after seven years of knowing her. And now, she was gone too.
Tomorrow would be her birthday. She could choose one friend to go to any cheap place they wanted for a day. Claire had no friends to bring, so she assumed that she would go to her mother's grave in solitude.
While chewing on the tough brown glop, Claire noticed something unusual.
Esme hadn't bullied her yet.
Esme was the biggest bully at St. Angie's, and a year older than Claire. She was tall for her age, (5'6), and everyday, attempted to make Claire's life a living hell. She was about a year older than Claire, and had wavy brown hair and large, pretty dark brown eyes.
She had no clue why Esme hated her so much. The moment Esme had arrived, she pounced on Claire and narrowed her beady black eyes.
Perhaps she's waiting to take my birthday dessert, thought Claire misreably.
On the morning of anyone's birthday, the birthday girl ususally recieved a tiny piece of taffy, no bigger than a pinky finger, on her pillow. It was always a treat. Claire still recalled that her piece was peppermint. Minty, fresh, and sweet. It was bliss.
Once Claire finished her dinner, she got up and hauled the tray back to the back of the kitchen. She pulled out a pair of bright yellow elastic gloves and began scrubbing the finished dishes.
She had kitchen duty tonight for forgetting to fold her bed the day before. Rachel was supposed to have it too, but, now that she had found a new home, it would just be Claire.
Sighing once more, she began scrubbing. And scrubbing. And scrubbing.
~*~*~*~*~*
At eleven, Claire finished cleaning up everyone's dinner. Her fingers were raw and red, as she had scoured every single plate violently, trying to get it over with.
She crept upstairs, not wanting anyone to hear, as it was three hours past curfew. She tip-toed through the darkness and quickly slipped on her nightgown.
She then, sat on her bed and stared out the window, whispering these words:
Dear God,
For my birthday tomorrow, I wish for my Daddy to return. Maybe we can live happily ever after, and leave this sad orphanage. I'll forgive him for leaving me. Just let him return.
Amen.
Just as she finished, a bright flash ran through the sky. Claire smiled, as it was a shooting star. Perhaps it was a message from God.
With high hopes, Claire went to bed, eager for the next day.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------(A/N)
Please tell me what you think! Thank you! If you do like it, please vote, comment or fan! Also, what do you think of Claire? Do you find her realistic, or a completely fake, boring character? :P
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Waiting For Daddy
Teen Fiction***Yes! I am AWARE that this sounds CLICHE and CHEESY. But please, give it a chance :) I think there's a great message in the end of the book, too. *** Claire was abandoned at the age of five by her father. Her mother had already died at birth. She...
