It was yet another dismal Octember evening outside the sole orphanage in New Cork City, reminiscent of the familiar old story-opening cliché, though devoid of the pouring rain that so many movie directors are fond of. The orphanage itself was a run-down old residence, with a cracked window that had yet to be replaced and a door that was barely hanging on to the hinges, built beside a dank alleyway that nobody in their right mind would consider setting foot in. Suddenly, a blinding flash of light emanated from the passage. The flash was soon followed by a noise just like the one you make when being violently sick, and a mysterious voice asking a question.
"Haven't traveled this way before, huh?"
When no reply came, the owner of the voice said, "You want a sick bag?"
Some time later, two men, both in their late teens, walked briskly out of the alley. One, who would prove to be the owner of the mysterious voice, held a small bundle in his arms. His somewhat scruffier companion, who had on his face the look of a man who has recently vomited in an alleyway, said hoarsely, "Give her back to me."
The other man nodded slightly and passed the bundle, which was indeed a baby girl, to him. Pretending not to see the tears that rolled down his cheeks, he busied himself with scribbling a message in a notebook, then ripped out the page it was on and asked, "Finished saying goodbye yet?"
"Can't we leave her somewhere else? This is a really bad place to grow up, I know from experience."
This comment earned him a raised eyebrow. "That's the idea, yes."
"Eh?! What're you-" He stopped dead as he realized what his companion meant, and sagged a little. "Oh. Right."
"Exactly."
The man with the infant remained silent for a while, before gently kissing his child on the forehead and whispering, "Goodbye." He made his way to the orphanage's doorstep as slowly as possible, dragging his feet as he walked, and when he inevitably reached the door, he hesitated for a second before setting her down and placing the note the stranger had written for him on her chest. Wiping his eyes, he asked his companion, "Ready?"
He gave a curt nod in response and held up three fingers for a silent countdown. When he put down his third finger, the other man quickly rang the doorbell, and both dashed for the alley. Once both were out of sight, another flash issued from it, and the child was alone.
Alone, that is, until a teenage girl opened the orphanage door and very nearly trod on the girl-child.
"Aah! What the frack!?"
Word count: 452.
Time taken: Half an hour to three-quarters of an hour. Miss Emo ain't so good at keeping her eye on the clock, you see.
Best read when listening to: Goodnight And Goodbye by 48May.
Worst read when listening to: I Kissed A Girl (Rock Mix) by Katy Perry. Seriously, don't do it.
Important note: This fic is gonna be written like a serial, which basically means I'm writing to a monthly deadline; more specifically, there shall be a new chapter of this story on the 24rd of each month, without exception. Having said that, I'd also like to point out that all the characters seen in this chapter, besides the teen girl, are canon characters. Yes, even the baby. Make as many guesses as you like as to their identities, my lips are stayin' zipped.
Other mental farts: In a recent survey, Social Studies students at Linwood College found that 3 out of 4 people make up 75% of the population. Amazing, huh?