Darcy and her father return back to their old stomping grounds of New York City. With her, Darcy brings habits of being reclusive. She is perfectly content spending most of her time within the walls of her father's café and sees nothing wrong with t...
well hello there. long time no see, huh? please read my author's note in the end for all the big things i've got to say. until then, please be kind with any weird mistakes and typos. today i've made three quizlets (online flashcards), taken a quiz, wrote a three page essay, and edited this whole chapter. it's currently two am. i have another quiz tomorrow. i'm sleepy. but i'm so happy to have finished this chapter. enjoy x
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"When I look at you, I can feel it. I look at you, and I'm home."
-Finding Nemo
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I thought she'd meet me in my dreams again. But, instead, I dreamt of California.
I was barrelling through the familiar streets of my neighborhood, crying. My cheeks were tight with streaks of dried up tears. My head was down and my beanie was pulled messily low on my head. But I didn't care. Because those kids – those awful, ignorant, stupid kids – were making fun of me again.
I could walk this route on autopilot. Left. Right. Right again. And there, second to last, would be my house on the left side of the street. But instead of walking up the driveway towards the garage of the one story home we shared with Suzie, Richards's late wife's sister, I stopped and stood at a different but familiar building.
It was the orphanage. It was home.
Unlike the neighboring houses, which varied in story size, front yard design, and even garage color, there wasn't much architectural design to the orphanage. It was just a fairly tall, upright rectangular building with smaller rectangular windows lining the front and sides of the building. It stuck out like a sore thumb in the neighborhood, but Dream Darcy didn't even blink an eye. I didn't stop to wonder what it was doing there. I merely pushed opened the door like I was home. Because I was.
The interior of the orphanage, quite like the outside, was also quite plain and basic. The carpeted stairs leading up to the four upper levels would the first thing you saw upon entering, and the stomping of feet above your head would be the first thing you hear. It was obnoxiously loud, but achingly familiar.
Marley was by the stairs, ironing some clothing. Carles and Rayna were in the living room to the left, sitting on one of the three couches. It became an inside joke that our living room was the "s'more room," as we had two graham colored couches, a dark chocolate colored couch, and a white wooden coffee table. However, if not for the legs, it'd be hard to tell what color it was beneath the abundance of magazines, coloring books, and colored construction paper covering the surface of it. Behind it was a large bookcase, neatly organized by picture book, chapter book, and board and card games (all thanks to Edan). Even from where I stood, at the end of the small hallway leading to the kitchen and dining room, I could hear the shrieking laughter from the girls playing and using worn down chalk nubs in the blacktop out back, or as we liked to call it, the "Black Garden."
