Adopted By... One Direction? (Book One)

This is my tree

A:N/ Trailer on the side!! (((:  

Kat POV

The wind rustles through my long brown hair as I watch the trees sway back and forth to some unknown music. I spread my legs out in front of me and let out a deep sigh. I wish that I could be like that tree; dancing to the music and singing through it's leaves. What a care free life that would be. Unless someone cut me down. Then I'd be a stump for kids to sit on. I think I'd prefer that over my life though.

I slowly stand up and touch the bark of the tree. It's rough, and I like it that way. Everytime I touch it, I feel pricks. It reminds me I can still feel pain. I guess it's like cutting yourself, but I don't do that. It's a waste of time. You have to clean up all the blood. People could say that about my tree, but at least there's no blood.

"KAT!" Someone yells, and I hear leaves crunching behind me. I turn around and see Peter. Whenever he's here, it means I should've been at the orphanage right now. "Coming," I say, going up to him. He looks over his shoulder at the tree as were walking. "You should just cut Kat," He says, "It's easier." "It's not," I say, "And you should know." I eye the cuts on his hands as I talk and he shrugs.

We arrive at the orphanage and I open the door. "Don't get into trouble." Peter says. I manage a smile and he turns to go. I close the door. He isn't allowed in here because it's only girls. The boys have another part, it's a buliding for them. I'm glad it's this way or the boys would do a LOT of bad things to me and the other girls. Some of those boys are crazy. Most of them. Only Peter and a few others are sane. I like Peter the most because he understands. He's been at the orphange for five years like me. We don't talk much, but when we do, it's always deep conversations. Other times, we just sit beside each other, too deep in our thoughts to speak. Those are my favorite times, because I catch a glimpse of what perfect is.

"Katherine!" The mistress of the orphange says in a hars tone, "You're late!" "Sorry." I mumble, looking down at the floor. I feel a stinging on my cheek, and I realize she smacked me. I'm used to it. "Go clean!!" She says, with a scowl. I rush to obey her before she really gets mad. When she's mad, she does much more than just slap. She kicks, pulls hair, bites, pushes, punches, drags across rooms, etc...I've experianced it the most because I've been her the longest and I'm always late.

I grab a mop from the cabinet and start cleaning. Soon, the floor is shining. I put the mop back where it belongs and start on the dishes. But, lucky me, I grab a plate that is chipped and get my finger cut. I wince at seeing it's a deep slice. I put it under the warm water and sigh. Just another thing to add for my to-do list...I complete the dishes after a while, and then run up to my room. I share it with a 16 year old named Shirley. She's a slob. Her side of the room is full of clothes, dirt, a half eaten peanut butter and jelly sandwhich on the bed, shoes, and I could go on but I'm grossing myself out. Especially with the flys that are swarming everywhere. I look at my side of the room and see one of Shirley's blouses is next to my bed. I pick it up and throw it on her side just as she walks into the room.

"Hey slut!" She says, "I had such a fun day today! I made out with Rob from the boys dorm!!" I turn away so she can't see my face contort in disgust. Gross. "What did you do today?" She asks smugly. I shrug. "I cleaned up your mess again." I say and that's it. I can't tell her about going to the tree. We're not supposed to go as far as 10 feet from the orphanage. It's a stupid rule the mistress made up, and I break it everyday. No body knows except for Peter, and he has never told anybody. I haven't either because everybody in this orphanage will rat me out the minute they get to. They love watching me get into trouble, especially Shirley. She hardly gets into trouble although she's always doing wrong. The mistress always let's her pass because Shirley has a way with blaming other people for her messes.

"You should clean up Pig," Shirley says, interupting my thoughts and motioning to her mess. She waves and gives me a sly smile before leaving my room. I groan. See? Another example of other people cleaning up her messes. If I don't clean her side of the room up, she'll tell the mistress I messed it up on purpose.

I walk over to her side and pick up the sandwhich. Ugh. Who likes Peanut butter and jelly on stale bread? I know! I know! Definatly not ME. But no one cares about that, right? Everybody hates me.

Hey guys! Hope you enjoyed this first chapter, which, personally, I thought was pretty good. ;) I worked my butt of on this, so please tell me what you think!~Snowflake_kitty