Orphange |h.s a.g|

What was he like?

We soon pull up in front of the large orphanage and I hurriedly get out, running inside and into my room. There are three boxes packed and sitting on the floor, saying different things on each one. I walk up to the boxes and turn them, trying to find the one that says 'photos' but failing miserably.

"No, oh my god. Where are they?" I whisper to myself while walking around the hard floor, opening drawers and looking under my bed.

"MISS. JUNE!" I scream, running downstairs and into the kitchen where I knew she'd be making lunch for the kids.

"Miss. June, where are they?" My voice is cracking and she looks pained by the hurt in my voice. I'm about to cry because a box of pictures, crazy right? Wrong.

My entire childhood and my parents are in that box. I need it.

"Where are what, dear?" Miss. June sets down the knife she was using to slice tomatoes and walks over to me.

"You know what I'm talking about. Where are my pictures." I raise my voice, and Miss. June flinches. I feel bad for getting angry with her, but I can tell by her condescending tone that she's playing dumb.

"They're in your old room, Claire." She says sweetly and goes back to putting together sandwiches.

"Bullshit!" I yell, slamming my hands down on the counter.

At that moment, Harry, Perrie, and Zayn all come running into the kitchen, looking at me with confused expressions on their faces.

"You will not use that kind of language in my home, young lady." June puts the last sandwich on a plate and turns her body towards me, her hands on her hips.

"They're all I have left! Tell me where they are!" I scream, tears building in my eyes. I know that she has them, she never liked the idea of me dwelling over my past. June always blamed my pictures and mementos for keeping me from being happy for so long.

"I threw them away, Claire, along with your father's things. You have a new family, you don't need them anymore."

Hearing her words makes my heart break in two, and I have to hold onto the edge of the counter to keep me from falling. The pictures and my dad's belongings where the only things that kept me leveled, kept me going. June knew how much they meant to me.

Like always, my sadness was almost instantly replaced by anger when June shrugs it off, getting something out of the fridge.

Feeling the blood that's flowing through my veins starting to boil, I push myself away from the counter.

"How could you?" I scream and lunge at June, only to be held back by a pair of strong arms.

"Let me go!" I turn in the persons arms and push their chest, inevitably failing to get out of the mans grasp.

"You took the only thing I had and threw it away, you're evil. You're an evil witch, and I hate you." I spit at June before prying the mans hands from my waist and run out the back door, going into the garage and to the garbage bins. I throw the lid open and nearly collapse with relief at the sight of folded fabric and thick paper. I begin pulling everything out, first my dad's shirts, then pictures, and then the blanket he got me when I was young. I sit on the ground next to my things and grasp the stack of pictures, looking at the one on the top of the pile. It's of my dad and I on Christmas, I'm sitting in his lap and I have my head on his chest, a big smile on my face for the camera. He, on the other hand, has his arms wrapped around my tiny body and has his eyes closed, smiling contently at me.

I take a deep breath and put it onto the floor, revealing the next picture. It's my dads birthday and he's kneeling on the floor of my grandmothers house, and I'm sitting on his knee. His arms are around my waist and I'm grasping onto them to keep my balance, smiles plastered on both of our faces and the resemblance is evident.