The orphanage was that out of a horror film. The terrible, but expected, English weather made it seem more creepy as I was walking up to the big oak doors. The stones were bleached white, though the weather had faded it grey. Creeping vines wound there way up the stone porch and to the stop. It was small, maybe containing five rooms, but the yard was big. The drive was straight out a spy movie. Fancy fountains, and grass greener than what looked natural, flowers scattered, and pale grey stones crunching under the car. I grabbed my holdalls and followed the police in. Unlike Mcceath's, the children were openly staring. Every window in sight held an unfamiliar face.
The inside of the house was just as movie scene themed. As soon as you walked in you had three choices of direction, up the wooden banister stair way, on the far right, through the giant arch leading into a living room of children on the left, and straight down past the two other option to what looked like the kitchen.
We chose the last option, but just after the stairs we veered right, into what looked like an office. There were hardly any decorations, a book case at the back, covered in leather bound books hundreds of years old. The carpet was grey, the walls were white and there was a desk in the centre of the room. On the desk was a brass lamp, stationary and a small cactus that had died. Behind the desk sat a stern looking lady. She had grey hair that was poorly disguised behind red hair dye, wearing a bright yellow suit, she had tell tale wrinkles around her eyes and mouth, and her eyes were glossy, like she hardly cared anyone was here.
“Mrs Poacher, this is Jane Bostan.” The first officer said. Mrs Poacher made a notion with her hand as if to say she knew, but didn't care.
“You're in good hands, Jane.” The second officer said, and nodded before leaving. The first officer sat down,I sat crouched in the chair besides, trying to act like a normal, if not slightly depressed teenager.
“Her information came?” The police officer ask finally. She nodded. They stared at each other again, then stood up. “I'll leave you two, then, busy day.” He stood up and exited the room, bowing his head as he left. Now we were alone. There was silence in the room as we looked at each other, expecting someone else to say the first word. T She assessed me with her eyes before speaking.
“You went to the private school, a few miles up the road, Mcceath's, correct?” Her voice was just a whisper, surprising to her looks.
“Yes.” I stated curtly. She stood up, again surprising me with her agility.
“I won't pretend I know what you're going through, even though I lost my parents as a child, because every case is different, I'm not going to wait on you hand and foot, and the teaching here that goes in is by a simple tutor from the local school. You're not special here.” I stared at her unblinking.
“Can you tell me where my room is? If everyone here is going to judge me to be spoilt brat that can't do anything for myself like you have, I'd rather not start fights with anyone.” Mrs Poacher stared at me.
“We have to set a few rules first, Miss Bostan. Firstly, no fights.” She gave me a pointed look. I smiled politely. It was all I had left in me.
I spent the first week at Pennyville orphanage locked in my room. As soon as Mrs Poacher had gave me the go-ahead to my room I had stayed there. I was being a good little orphan, though. Staying out of trouble, not being overly demanding, helping out whenever I could. There was another orphan warden named Paul Poacher, the son of Mrs Poacher. He treated me like an adult, and I helped him cook the meals for the orphans sometimes. He was only about twenty two, with sandy brown hair and cool green eyes. We got on well, and he told me about his girlfriend, Gina, who was attending Cambridge. He had worked at the orphanage since his mother had a stroke. He had apparently planned to go off with Gina to Cambridge, wanting to become a medical student. He now spent time as a first aider, he couldn't leave after Mrs Poacher's illness. He just cleaned wounds of the other Orphan's.
Orphan. I can't remember how many times that word had been used since I had arrived. It was stupid, but I couldn't believe they were actually dead. It hadn't been that long ago I had seen them. I had gone whole months without seeing them, I spent my first two years at Mcceath's not seeing them at all until summer.
I was walking around the orphanage, on my second week. I hadn't though of Lily, or any of the girls at Mcceath, and I was suddenly feeling very guilty. My mobile hadn't been on since I arrived and I was scared to look at it. I found the fire already on behind it's electrical glaze and sat down in my bean bag, it as old, with a small rip in the outer bag, and looking like it needed a wash, but I had claimed it the moment I had seen it, and I wasn't about to give it up.
It took longer than expected for my phone to load, I thought it was broken at first, but it finally appeared, with the picture of my favourite male actor. The man whom I had envisioned to take one of the main roles for Sin Paradise. Messages adorned my front screen. seventeen messages, five e-mail alerts, twenty one Zends (a software we made last year that is easy to send messages to each other for free), and twelve missed calls. I sighed. They probably thought I was suicidal, I wouldn't put it past Lily to have told Mack, and him to have called Mrs Poacher, and from what I can tell of her, she probably wouldn't have told me even if they did call.
Suddenly someone ran into me, they fell over and a head of hair was shoved in my face. I picked the person up and looked at them. It was a little girl, maybe five or six, with brown hair and green eyes. Her face was red, and her eyes were puffy.
The girl was crying.
“What's wrong?” I asked, trying not to sound as awkward as I felt – maternity was not in my nature, whether or not it's supposedly in everyone. I wouldn't know what to do if I was handed a baby.
“The boys were making fun of my drawing!” She wailed, ignoring my awkwardness and holding up a piece of paper to me.
“It's not that bad-” I broke off, it was bad. Even for a six year old child (I was only assuming she was that age, but my guesses are usually pretty accurate). The piece of paper looked as if people would pay money not to see it. I smiled at her nether the less.
“Come on, I'll help you colour.” I grabbed her hand and led her to a small children's desk across from the fire. I sat next to her and smiled. This is what you would do when kids cry, right?
“I'm Jane.”
“My name is Emily!” she smiled, showing me a gap in her teeth where her Canine should be.
“What would you like to draw?” I asked.
“A Fairy!” She exclaimed.
“You like fairies?” She nodded.
The fairy we worked on together looked better than the one she made by herself. So much so, Paul stuck it up on the wall where the boys who had made fun of the girls picture glared at it. He smiled at me, and although he wasn't doing anything, he asked me to take the girl to bed I glared a little, I wasn't used to this taking care of other people business. She was in the room across from me, and she jumped for joy almost when I told her.
“I can't get to sleep.” she said as soon as she had sat down. I laughed.
“Okay.” I looked around for something that could help her get sleep. That was when I spotted the fairy shrine. An idea flashed in front of my eyes.
“Do you want me to tell you a story?” I asked. She smiled lightly.
“My mummy used to tell me stories.” I closed my eyes, silently reminding myself I was in an orphanage. This girl didn't have parents either.
“One upon a time there was ring of mushrooms.” I said.
“Mushrooms?” she asked, pulling a face. I pulled the blankets over her, so she wasn't sitting on top of the bed.
“Didn't you know, every ring of mushrooms are homes to the fairies.” Her face lit up at the mention of her obsession. “Now, in this ring of mushrooms there was the city of Emalia. Their fairy princess had just returned and a celebration was to be held to celebrate. The ladybirds were fine decorates, and the place was looking fabulous, spiders webs were glittering in the moonlight, and all the little children faries were making long streamers of daisies. When Princess Emily arrived glow worms and fireflies lit up the sky.” Suddenly I realised something, I was an orphan too, my parents were gone. I had to stick with my new family. Emily was sinking lower into her bed, her eyes slowly blinking.
“Emily?” I whispered. She mumbled something. “Guess what?” She opened her eyes to peak out at me.
“They all lived happily ever after.” She smiled widely.
“You're going to leave soon.” Emily said suddenly. “What?” I asked completely confused. She turned around and smiled at me.
“There was a couple in today, they saw you when you were helping me colour they had the gleam in their eyes as the people who adopted my sissy. ” I raised an eyebrow. “Don't worry, though, you can be my sister until then.”
She jumped into my arms.
“We'll be sisters, Even after you leave me.” She whispered in my ear.
“I'll always be here, even if it's not the way you think.”
When I went downstairs Paul stared at me. “Is she asleep?!” I blinked at him.
“Shouldn't she be?” He looked at me in shock.
“Emily has never slept unless someone is with her. She has been like that ever since. What did she say to you?”
“She said I was her new sister.” I mumbled.
I couldn't get the words out of my head.
Even after you leave me.
Wow, this does SO not make up for the amount of time I've been gone. I apologise for that. This was probably some reverse brain thingy Licy did, but I had to update tonight (even though I had forced myself to write tonight anyway...) The shortness will probably nag on my brain. PLEASE DON'T HATE ME. D: