Chapter 2

Katy’s POV

Hey there, I'm Katherine, but you should call me Katy.  If you don’t, I will not hesitate to cut your head off and feed it to the Pigeons out in the front of the Orphanage.  Yes, I do have a lot of sass, but you're just going to have to deal with that, won't you? 

   I hate men because of a reason I've have only told my best friend Logan, but she is dead.  To be honest with you, I miss her a lot.  We used to spend a lot of time together.

  The reason I'm in an orphanage is because of a family member that many people would hold dear to their hearts... but not me.  My dad is the reason of all of my nightmares.  Those days where it was just me and him... which ended up being many in my childhood.  He would abuse me whether he was sober or not. It was really terrifying to see my dad drunk. He would walk around with anything he could get his slimy hands on and beat me.  I don’t even want to talk about my brother and mum.  Those days are what my nightmares stem from.   But, I still haven’t told you what I told Logan. And I may never will.

   The orphanage that I live at is not nice at all.  It's really old and has nails sticking up almost everywhere you step.  The floorboards creak with every step you take.  I'm only thirteen years old and have gone through more than what other thirteen year olds should have to go through in a lifetime.

  At the orphanage, there are bullies.  Just like the ones you’d find at a school.  But these are much worse.  At school you only have to deal with them there.  The bullies here, you always have to deal with them because you live with them.  The meanest one to date is Grace Burlet. She acts like the queen bee and has many friends.  The reason why?  There are only two... one, she wants you to help beat me up and push me down, or two you are afraid of her and go and be on her good side.  Every chance that I get at having a friend, Grace takes them to her side and they automatically become her zombies. 

So, to tell you about myself, I have blue eyes, brown hair, and slim body.  Yes, I do eat, and no I don't have any eating disorder; which is very uncommon for the kids living here.  I used to have an older brother... but... he was in an... accident... with my mom...  let’s get off of that topic, shall we?

  Anyways, time to tell you my story...starting from lunch.

1st Person POV

As I was up in my room, reading the last page of my newest book, Never Cry Wolf, I started to feel hungry. I mean who wouldn't, it was after lunch time.  I skipped lunch because of the book.  As I made my way to the bottom of the steps, I turned to the left to go into the kitchen... but something stopped me. I heard voices in the door next to the Kitchen.  I stopped to listen for a few moments.

"So I think we have decided on getting a girl about 10 to 15 years old," said one MALE voice.  I heard separate voices say "yes" in agreement, and I quickly backed away. I couldn’t listen to the conversation with men wanting a girl. The last time I got put in a care home. Well, thank god I'm out of it. I went back up the steps that had nails sticking up out of each board. Once I got to the top, I turned left to go into the girl's rec room.  It really wasn't big... only big enough to hold about ten girls, two couches and a little crappy TV that doesn’t get cable.  As soon as I opened the door, I saw a huge head of blonde hair a few feet away from the door.

 "Well, here comes the threats,” I thought to myself.

"God Katy, watch where you're going you piece of shit.  All that you ever do is sit up in your room all day doing nothing! I mean look at you, who would want to date you?" Grace sneered.  Her group of "friends" was behind her, smirking at me.  I looked at her, dead in the face for a second. Yep, Crayola has yet again raped her face. She had a slight smirk playing at her lips and her nose scrunched up in disgust.  It was a weird look, even for her. 

I looked at her straight in the eye and said to her “You better back off, I don’t need any boyfriend I am happy just the way I am, and guess what, I don’t give a flying fuck about what you have to say to me." 

  This was the first time I stood up to her.  To be honest, it felt really, really good for once. 

As I watched her small smirk retreat from her lips, I felt a pain on my left cheek. I put my hand up to it and it stung like crazy. All I saw was red in my normally blue eyes.  All of the memories came back to me like a hurricane.  The beatings, when my own father hit me, other times; each day at the orphanage, not getting enough to eat.  I couldn't take it anymore; the years of constant suffering had finally gotten to me.  I lunged at her "pretty" little face and tore that sucker up!!!

I started to scratch her face, and in return, she screamed at me.

     As soon as I punched her nose, blood started to pour out.  I had obviously broken it... now when someone adopts her (if someone even wanted to adopt the bitch) they'll have to pay for plastic surgery... it was bound to happen anyways.  Her little wannabes aren't doing anything to help Grace... some "friends" they are. 

   Soon I heard more than one person's footsteps coming up the stairs. I didn’t care at all. I kept on hitting her until I felt someone grab both of my wrists while another grabbed my legs. I soon after felt someone put their hands on my waist; and I immediately went into panic-mode.  No, the wrist holder, and leg holder didn't frighten me, but the waist holder did.  If you were in my shoes, with my past, you'd understand why.

   I kicked harder and faster than I ever thought was possible. I kicked each of my attackers on one body part or another and made a run for it.  Out the door, through the hallway, down the stairs.

Once I got to the stairs, I rushed down them.  Looking down, I carefully counted, trying to make sure that I didn't trip and fall.

  Once I was on the last five or so steps, I tripped.  Screaming, I felt my leg twist and my arm smack my face. Once I got to the bottom, I felt a wetness running down my left leg. I looked down and saw a gash from the top of the knee to my mid-shin.  My head was dizzy and I was seeing stars.  I was fine with the blood, but don't get me wrong, I was scared because of the nails.  Some of them had rust coving them…and sadly we were never given tetanus shots. 

  One of my thoughts was:  I really hate those nails on the steps.

   I tried to get up, to keep on running, but then crashed down again when I found I couldn’t stand up.  My entire left leg was on fire, and I have a feeling I broke something in there.  I soon heard footsteps running down the stairs. They weren’t delicate ones like Grace would've had but thunderous and scary. I listened a little harder and came to the conclusion that they were male footsteps. I started to feel really dizzy and I shut my eyes.  That was one dumbass decision.  The last thing I saw in my now blue eyes was blonde with a little bit of brown hair.  Shutting my eyes completely, I relaxed... and for the first time, I didn't have a nightmare.  Most likely because the nightmare was here... in reality.

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