Hiya, as usual, I haven't got a clue what to put here. If you are stupid and did not read the summary, here is a reminder it is from Hana's POV. Has anyone ever done that? Woo maybe I am the first one. Go me. Yah.
Chapter One
I have two memories of my parents.
One is of somebody chucking me in the air and catching me again when I was really tiny, and in the background a woman's voice is saying something like "Don't do that, Yoh, he'll be sick on you". Nice, eh? What a weird name. "Yoh". I've never heard of anyone called that before. I guess it doesn't matter though, because those two idiots called me Hana. That's a girl's name! I get teased something rotten at school. The other one is from when I was three. Someone is crying and handing me to this weird lady with massive glasses. I remember seeing my mum walking away and wondering where she was going. She never came back after that. Well, that's parents for you, isn't it? They let you down. I should know that from the other kids here. New people arrive practically every week. There are so many of us living here I don't know all their names. Being stuck in a great big house with a load of skanky kids and no violent computer games is not the most rewarding life experience. Especially when you've been in a place like this for as long as I have.
Eight years.
Eight whole years.
It seems so long when I think about it, but if you look at someone like Karine, you can see it isn't. Karine is fifteen, nearly sixteen. She got dumped here when she was only a baby. She's lived here all her life. She is tall, thin and almost pretty, but she never smiles. Even the little kids bully her because she isn't exactly a female duplicate of Einstein (she's a bit thick). Duplicate. I like that word. Sometimes I wonder if there is a duplicate of me somewhere. An eleven-year-old clone, a twin, who isn't stuck in a stoopid boring place like this and lives with the blonde lady and the guy called Yoh from what I can scarcely remember. It seems to fade more every day, so when I try and recall it the colours are blurry and the voices sound robotic, like a pirate copy DVD. We have a load of DVDs stuffed in a cupboard somewhere gathering dust, but nobody watches them cos they're all jazzed-up versions of Frank Sinatra musicals and Bob the Builder episodes one to thirteen, which thrilled the pants off a few two-year-olds once but then they got bored and tried to microwave the disc (along with a few Lego blocks) so it doesn't work any more. Good thing really, I was getting sick of CAN WE FIX IT blasting out of the telly every five minutes. Some prat set up the ancient Samsung telly to only show the kids' channels but once this guy called Dexter hacked into it and watched the porn channel at night until he got caught by one of the annoying social workers.
I have a weird social worker. Her name is Marilynne. She comes from America. She sounds young but she's really about a hundred and five and if you say something rude or annoying to her she fixes her face into this weird fake grin and her eyes cross a bit. This is when she is counting to ten. I hate her. Once a week we have to do this reeeeeeeeeeeeeeally boring thing where you sit in this office and do how-do-you-feel stuff. Most of the kids shrug or chew gum or kick the legs of the desk but I have devised an all-new way to wind up the adults. When they ask me questions I just go DUNNO or WHATEVER or DON'T BOTHER. It makes Marilynne grin and cross her eyes until she is blue in the face.
This is it for the first chapter, yes I know it isn't very long nor very interesting, but never mind. I expect the later ones will probably be better.