Unwanted

The Book

Setting: a year later; Jemima Wibble is now 10 years old...

"Freak!" One of the kids shout at me as I sit on the playground swings

"You're a freak!" Another shouts

"Why don't you just die!" A third shouts

I just sit quietly on the swing biting the inside of my lip as they yell nasty, horrid things at me and wait for the us all to be told to go back inside for classes. I've managed to keep a face of stone over the years while my fragile heart was relentlessly attacked by the other children. It's the same routine everyday: Mr. Wibble's cruelty at home-if you can even call it that-cruelty from the teachers and classmates, then more cruelty when I returned from school. They make fun of my eyepatch, that I don't talk to anyone, the fact that I always wear long sleeves and jeans-even in the summer time-and that strange, unexplainable things happen around me. Everyone that knows me-teachers and students alike-has taken to calling me 'the Orphan' and it's my nickname now.

"Orphan! Move your arss!" The teacher calls to me, "now!"

I hop off the swing and hurry inside before she gets anymore cross with me for just being alive; I don't really care much for any of them, not even Mr. Wibble. I could survive on my own; I know I could, but I'm only ten, so I'm stuck where I don't want to be, and I'm stuck here until I'm old enough to get emancipated. When classes finally end for the day, I walk home with other kids following behind me only to relentlessly taunt me. Once home, Mr. Wibble's still working; I only get a few hours alone before he comes back, and I usually spend it eating and reading. I eat to make up for the lunch the other kids steal from me at school and I read to escape from the harsh reality that is my life in this world. Today was different however; I find a parcel waiting outside the door, addressed to me...addressed to me? Why would it be for me? I never get things, I don't have any friends or know anyone that actually likes me.

If Mr. Wibble finds this, he'll confiscate whatever it is, and do god only knows what with it and I'll never see it again...whatever it is. Bringing it inside, I close the door behind me, place my school bag down and open the parcel as quickly as I can in fear that if I don't, Mr. Wibble will show up out of no where and take it from me. There was no return address and beneath the wrappings I find an old book, one I've never hear of before 'The tales of Beedle the Brad' and there's a strange symbol on it too. I stare mesmerized at it for a moment as I run my bruised fingers along the old black cover of the book. I then carefully lift it from the wrappings so it won't fall apart and skim through the somewhat worn pages.

I spend my few hours of alone time reading through the book of short stories; giggling and smiling to myself till I hear the in locking of the door. I hurry to hide the book where I usually keep the few secret thing I have-under the couch cushions-as Mr. Wibble walks through the door and I directly over top the cushion that my secrets are under. Aside from the book, all I really have is the ratty old stuffed pink bunny from when I was a baby and baby blanket cover with pink stars; I pull them out every now and again late at night for comfort. If he knew that I still had them, he'd go crazy a throw them in the fire place like he did all my other baby stuff...

"Finished your homework Orphan?" He asks

"..." I nod diligently-I always finished my homework before school ended

"Good, then start diner," he says, "and try not to burn it."

"..." I nod and quickly hurry to the kitchen

     He eats in silence as I make my lunch for school tomorrow in the kitchen; he reads what he didn't finish of the paper from this morning like he always does, while I do the dishes. It isn't long before one of his 'guests' comes knocking on the door and they both retreat to his room. We don't celebrate birthdays around here-we don't even know when mine is, but it's not that hard to tell just by looking at me that I'm at least ten or so. Summer will be starting soon, at least I'll have a bit more freedom what with school being out and all. I ignore the moans and groans-that make me want to gage-coming from the his bedroom like I always do and loose myself in my new/old book.

     I love that it's mine; I wish I knew where and who it came from though, so I could thank them for it. I bit my inner lip to keep from laughing at some of the characters; this must be my tenth time reading through the stories, and they never not make me happy. My favorites are: the fountain of fair fortune and the Warlock's hair heart; the tale of the three brothers also interests me, but it's not one my favorite. I lay awake late in the night clucking my bunny and blanky as I read my book, even though I should be sleeping.

The next day of school is like all the rest, I hate it; the only joy I have is my book of stories, but I can't bring it out on school grounds or the other kids will surely take and ruin it. They stole my lunch again, even resorted to throwing things at me while they call me 'freak' and 'orphan'...not that I care, it's a lot nicer that the names Mr. Wibble's been calling me lately. I still get random fits of pain throughout my body every now and again, but I do a better job of hiding it now a days. I can't wait to be free of all these wretched people, I show up with broken limbs and bruises all over me and no one gives it a second glance, thought. No one gives a dam that a child is walking about, clearly being abused; no one cares, they all just ignore it cause it has nothing to do with them.

Between the abuse of my adoptive father and my schoolmates, I'm honestly surprised that I'm not dead yet; with a massive head ache and not being able to take my peers torment anymore, I run all the way home. I throw my bag on the floor, pull my bunny and blanky out from under the cushion of the couch and I cry. It isn't until about an hour or so later that I smell smoke, I lift my head and look around, only to find the place on fire. Panicking I stuff my blanky and bunny and book into my bag and run out of the burning house. I stand outside and watch it burn, coughing a bit from the bit of smoke I inhaled.

Mr. Wibble's gonna be pissed for sure...and blame this one me; I need to leave, I need to run away, it's not like he'll actually care...or look for me, it's not like I'll be missed. Only question is...where will I go? If I do run away, that means I'm on my own, no more school or couch to sleep on. Guess I could start my bucket list of places I've wanted to go to but never been...just gotta watch out for the police. So...where to first then? I ponder this as I start walking away from the burning building. I've got no money and I'm too young to get a paying job...the top place on my list is...the zoo; yes! The zoo! I wanna go to the zoo!

I start walking in the direction my gut is telling me the zoo is in (my gut is never wrong) and before long, I'm there; it's one of those zoos you have to pay to get it, so I sneak inside. I'll stay here for as long as I can and only leave if I get caught, or when I get bored of the place. Now which animal exhibit is the easiest place to hide/ camp out in and has the animal that is least likely to kill me? Birds...too noise, monkeys...nah, the lions seem pretty mellow...lions den it is! I look around carefully to make sure no ones watching before I hop the fence into the lions pen. I walk around a bit looking for security cameras.

Once I find them all, I make note of where they all are and head for the lions cave; all the lions and lionesses stare at me as I approach them. I'm not scared of them even know the fact that they could end my life whenever they feel like it and they seem to know that I pose no threat to them. I move about them slowly; every action I make, every motion I move, I go slowly as not to startle them, and they just watch. I sit down on the cave floor and pull out my blanky and bunny from my bag. Using my bunny as a pillow, I drape my blanky over my body the best I could and I some feel warm furry bodies surrounding me as I let my exhaustion take over, falling into a deep sleep.