I find myself lying on the floor starring at the white ceiling trying to mentally count my injuries as I have so many night before trying to think what one decision was made in my life that led me down this path of desolate agony.
Maybe it wasn't one specific decision but perhaps multiple.
Perhaps not even all my own but choices made for me that pushed me towards where I am at this moment counting that white popcorn on the ceiling thru my one good eye.
I pull memories from the deepest recessions of my mind to try and decide who to blame for the pain I have been made to endure for the past ... how long has it been?
One of my earliest memories came from a much happier time, it was the day my parents came to school to pick me up when I was twelve.
I was exhilarated, I was always forced to ride the over crowded bus with we'll say a fair amount of people I could not stand but among them were my closest friends.
My parents pulled up to the front of the school in their run down dark green car but both radiating with joy and I came bounding out not even caring to throw a goodbye over my shoulder to my friends.
I yanked open the door as it squealed in distress I jumped in the back seat with my backpack still secured to my back.
Both of their heads turned at the same time and I looked at them expectantly.
"Well?" I finally burst "Do I get a brother or a sister?"
They shared a look then turned back to me "Both" my mother cooed "I'm having twins!"
My squeal could be heard thru the entire parking lot.
Then my memories skipped forward to July 19th 2013 as I stared straight ahead of me in what doctors have explained to me was shock.
A police officer was walking away with my baby brother and sister in each hand I wanted to run after him screaming and shouting at him that he was a liar, that my parent have drove in the rain so many times before, they could practically be professionals.
So why ... why did they not make it this time, why did they not make it home, why are am I being pushed in the back seat of the police officers car as their light blur together in the mist of the rain that was still pouring.
Skip forward a week later and a disgruntled snobby lady was talking down her nose to me saying that there was only one place I could live where me and my siblings could be together and that was a newly built orphanage that was being built just a few blocks from my old home.
They weren't expected to take many children just a house hold or so, that a man in his late 40's has dedicated his funds to the appropriate care of children but even he can only do so much, but once again I should count myself lucky at least were together.
I blink and several weeks fly by and I realize that I have just been existing, I haven't communicated or reached out to anyone I use to have around me, all my friends stayed in their happy little bubble.
Only I didn't want to be the one to pop it, to tell them my life has been torn apart and I don't know what to do.
They talked about wanting to start a band and college and who they though should hook up and I found that that is where I found my solace, I could pretend everything was ok.
The second I walked into school I was called over to their table and greeted with smiles and questions about upcoming tests, not do you even know your newest address yet?
So to this day ... my friends know nothing about me.
Skip forward several more weeks when me and whats left of my family is moved into a strangers home, a stranger named Jeb but and I quote "we may call him Mr. Batchelder".
I got my own room but it was right next to my siblings so I could hear their cried in the middle of the night and I could assist in quieting their wailing to not disturb our new care taker, I don't have many trust issues at this age but something was off about him.
Not even a week later I found out what was off, he was perfectly fine during the day functioning like a fully capable adult, but he has a ritual every night at 8pm he starts drinking on the dot.
By 9:30 he was drunk, and by 10 he would search the house for something to vent on, or should I say more like someone.
I only dared to hide once, I was in my closet both of my trembling hands over my mouth to quiet my labored terrified breathing until I heard Angel start to to fuss.
His loud determined footsteps passed my room and continued to theirs, my eyes grew wide as I contemplated if he would lay his drunk hands on infants?
I got my answer when Gazzy started wailing causing Angel to shriek.
I plowed past my closet double doors causing one to hang on only one hinge, I sprinted to their room without slowing I used my full body to push into his side causing him to waver slightly but he had been successfully distracted, his rage had found a new target.
I went to school the next day and I started telling my friends lies on top of lies I live in Detroit Michigan so I told them I started fighting after school, like gangs and illegal street fighting some expressed concern, slowly they wanted to start hanging out after school but I told them my house is off limits, parents always fighting or everyone's sick usually got them off my back.
Slowly my friends started dwindling down little by little they got tired of the excuses, a few stuck around but I found I started to actually prefer smaller crowds, less people, less contact.
Two years passed by and I found myself lying on the floor trying not to cry as I lost another fight but I refused to stop fighting back I waited for him to leave but he swayed uneasily in the moonlight seeping through the window he looked down at me hunger in his eyes.
He put the bottle to his lips one last time pulling away he wiped his mouth with his inner arm tossing the now empty bottle to the side letting it clatter on the carpet he fell ungracefully to his knees and crawled on all four over me.
My eyes grew large and a small whimper escaped past my lips as his intentions became clear he pinned me by placing his knees on either one of my inner thighs, not that I had an ounce of energy left to fight him off even if I could, he took all of me as his property that night.
I snapped out of my memories as tears were pooling in the corners of my eyes but I refused to cry about the past anymore, I need to figure out my future how to get me and my family out of here but together.
No other kids have been added to the orphanage so far, every time I think about calling the cops to get out of my torment I remember how lucky I am that I can live in the same house as Angel and Gazzy.
It's been four years but outside the orphanage I actually started playing in a little band with my few rag tag friends I had left we never preformed so far just continuously practice but we call it our 'chill session' and it feels so good to get away for a bit.
As long as I'm back by 9:30.
Disclaimer, please please please review, need to know if this is worth continuing, thank you!
Also character description will be in the next chapter and who the friends are specifically.