Lethal Beauties

Day One

*Liv* 

For as long as I can remember, I had no home and no family. My life, for all I knew, has been me stuck in an orphanage. I hated it here and if it wasn't for Jordan, I would have tried leaving a long time ago. Jordan and I were the same age and we were brought to the orphanage together, but no one had any clue if we were related or not. I didn't care if we were biological to each other, all I knew is that she was my sister and that she was the only person I cared about and trusted. This wretched place was no different than what I presumed juvy would be like. They fed us the bare minimum, we had bunk beds and shared rooms with multiple children, and if we didn't obey the rules or caused trouble; we were punished. I was pretty familiar with that last concept as I was not known for playing nicely or mingling with the other kids.

The number of times I talked back to the women supposedly "taking care" of us was too much to count at this point. This is not even counting the times where some of the other girls here would exclude Jordan from playing with the toys and would make fun of her. There was one time where I punched and broke the nose of one of the boys, Hyde, who was 3 years older than me. The reasoning was because he and his friends wouldn't let me play basketball with them; presuming to call me crazy afterward and that no one would ever want me. I admit my temper was pretty bad and I would let people get to me easily, but if I didn't stand up for me and Jordan; then who would? One of the teachers, Ms. Brenda, always was the one who would "discipline" me, if that's what you call beating a child with a belt until your skin was as numb as your stomach would be. I honestly didn't care for the first couple times, I know I was doing the right thing and that was that. 

Ms. Brenda even made sure that I spent time with our orphanage's psychologist, Ms. Jane. As if that woman even knew what she was doing. All she would do is criticize me and tell me that the way I was acting was deranged and un-lady-like. The number of times I wanted to act out every time she called me an "IED" (intermittent explosive disorder) would land me in actual juvy for sure, so I just shut up and wouldn't talk to her. All I would do is stay silent when after our 9th session, she told me that if I didn't comply with her rules, she'd send me to the rooms of solitary confinement for a week for "time outs". I knew I couldn't let it get to that, because being in those rooms for even a day was torture, much less a whole week.

Those rooms were all closed up with one window and a bed, nothing else. It was like being in prison and with no one to talk to. That was the room for the "bad" kids who couldn't follow rules and jeopardized the safety of the other kids. Bull shit. I didn't want to deal with unnecessary problems and leaving Jordan on her own for a week, so I just nodded at her and complied. After that, I just stayed in my room most of the time and I took up drawing as a past time and would make Jordan stay with me so we could avoid issues together. Even if she didn't blame me or get upset, I'd hate myself more because sometimes my punishments would include Jordan too. After all, they knew she was the only one I cared about and I never wanted her to get hurt because of me.

In the 3 years, we were at the orphanage since we were 4; I've always wondered who my parents were. After all the taunting and insults the teachers would give me about how my parents did the right thing of not keeping a crazy, impulsive kid like me; I started hating my parents. Whoever they were and why the reasoning was for abandoning me didn't bother me anymore and they were dead to me. Even if they came back to get me, I would rather get beat by Ms. Brenda than have them take me back. I even hate my name Olivia because of them. I didn't want that chosen name to be associated with me, so I just wanted to be called Liv. That was my new identity. Ms. Brenda knew this of course and used it to her advantage when she would discipline me and that only made me lose it even more. With the number of whip marks and bruises on my body doubling with that bitch's disciplinary lessons, things started to change. After a couple of sessions with Ms. Jane, she finally told the other teachers to call me by the name I desired instead of my given name. For once, that woman did something right. That change gave me the biggest peace of mind.

Jordan and I afterward would just spend more time together and avoid the playrooms where all the kids would spend time. If I ever were to step out or even go to the bathroom, I had to be supervised at all times to make sure I didn't fight with anyone. After the second year of our stay, the other kids knew what I was like and I was not even exaggerating that nobody talked to me besides Jordan, my teachers if they felt like it, and my psychologist who I still hated. I even liked this new way of things better because it was easier for me to avoid trouble if no one even talked to me. I didn't mind as long as Jordan was with me and safe. I would sometimes even steal some toys at night for Jordan to play within the daytime because she wouldn't leave my side if I didn't go anywhere and I felt bad for that. No one ever suspected me or Jordan to be stealing toys because we never went out to play, which gave us an advantage. I would even hide them in my mattress I made a hole in with a butter knife I stole from the kitchen too. I kept that for safety, never knowing what fate would hold for us each day.

The other thing I hated more than the people in the damned orphanage was when couples would come looking for children to adopt. I hated it for several reasons. One, because I knew that given my charts and profile, I would never be chosen as a possible adoption. Second, because my heart would stab each time knowing they could pick Jordan. She didn't have a bad record of fighting, impulsive behavior, and aggression. She was the complete opposite of me, being the quiet, nice girl who was linked to the orphanage's psychopath. I never wanted Jordan being taken away from me, so I prayed to whatever God I hoped existed just to keep Jordan by my side. I know that she isn't my biological sister, but out of everyone, she never judged me or made me feel like shit like everyone else here would. Instead, she was the only one who would make me feel normal and loved. Without her, I'd be a mess and I hoped she felt the same way about me.