As far back as I could remember, I had always been alone. Sure, I had had several parents who loved me very much, but they weren't REALLY mine. Since the beginning, everything had always belonged to someone else, and I was just pretending that it was my own. Seeing how I had lived in an orphanage more than half of my young life, I had never really owned much. Some clothes, maybe, and the little dolly that had belonged to my older sister, who had been adopted out five years ago, leaving me behind.
And all alone.
When I was three, my mom had taken me and Sis to the grocery store with her, just to pick up a few things for dinner, like we always did when our house was foodless. I couldn't remember much, just that it was fun and there were a ton of people there that day. Which, due to the crowds, caused us to be home later than usual. Dad didn't really like that. He always wanted us to be on time, prompt and exact. That was how Dad was. If you didn't do exactly what he wanted you to do when he wanted you to do it, he would slap you and sometimes punch you until you cried. That was just the way it was in my home and, being so young, I didn't realize that every family didn't go through the same thing when they came home later than usual.
But that was that, and we were late, so Daddy got really mad. We all got punished, but Mom got the brunt of it and… and she ended up dead, her blood spilling all over the floor. I'd never forget how it stained our pretty white carpet scarlet as the fluid leaked out of her body, her chocolate brown eyes open and glassed over, pleading for my help, or the way Dad came after Sis and I seconds later. But the part I'd always remember, no matter what, is what happened after we got away, running for our lives until we came upon the police station, the faces of the cops who saved us still fresh in my mind.
"Haha, you can't catch me!"
The sounds of the other orphans playing reached my ears from where I sat alone on the swing set, gently rocking myself forward and back with my feet. The wind was cold today, the sure signs of winter heavy in the bone-chilling air. Already the leaves had changed colors on the trees from bright, leafy green to the soft, glowing hues of orange, red, and yellow that were associated with autumn and started to fall off, turning a dead brown as the trees grew more bare by the day.
Starting to shiver, I reached up to tighten the hand-knitted light blue scarf that hung around my neck, pull my matching hat further down on my head, and be sure that my straight, golden-blond hair didn't look too haphazard, though who really cared what I looked like? I supposed it was a teenager thing, just a natural habit to care about appearances. I could feel my face growing warm where it was becoming frost nipped, my cheeks probably a bright pink by now from the winds buffeting. After all, where I was sitting was the most unprotected area from any kind of weather, but I didn't really care. It was my favorite spot and I wasn't going to let some force of nature stop me from being here, even if I was beginning to snot everywhere.
Crossing my arms over my chest in an attempt to keep warm, I suddenly realized I didn't hear the sound of the younger kids playing anymore. Alarmed, I turned to see that they were all going inside, chatting about how cold it was getting and that it was almost dinnertime as they were ushered inside by the nun who owned the institution, plus a few of the workers who helped out there, all of whom were also nuns. For the second time this week, they had forgotten me. It was like I could just disappear and they would hardly care. In fact, they would probably just be happy that they had one less mouth to feed.
Heaving a sigh, I pulled myself off the swing, pulled down my snow white jacket so that it wasn't all bunched up, and followed the rest of the orphanage inside, picking up the rear, as usual. The building was relieving to step into, due to the warmth and the cheery atmosphere of all the people, sitting around a huge table and handing out turkey, mashed potatoes, and peas on trays to all the inhabitants of this place. I started to wonder why they were giving out such a fancy meal, when usually we only got sandwiches… and almost facepalmed due to my ignorance.
It was Thanksgiving, so obviously we were going to be having a nice supper.
Grumbling inwardly, I chose a seat alone at the very far end of one of the tables, where I could eat and pray in peace. Reaching my spot, I set down my train and bowed my head, clasping my hands in prayer, ignoring the sneering looks some of the other children gave me. I did the sign of the cross and began my talk with the only person I had left to my name in this world. God.
Dear Heavenly Father, thank you for this wonderful meal and for the caring people who made it for me to eat. Thank you for the roof over my head, the bed I sleep in at night, and thank you for staying with me whenever I need you. I know I can always count on you, even when everything is looking bad. Like… well, right now. You see, Lord, I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but I've been extremely lonely ever since my sister was adopted, and I haven't been able to make any friends, though I've tried. So, if you'll hear my prayer, I would like to ask if maybe, if you get around to it, can you please send me a friend? Please, God, will you send me a guardian angel?
I finished my prayer with one more sign of the cross, sealing the deal and digging into the rare treat that had been laid out for my consumption.
