What was I doing here?

I was an ordinary 15 year old girl at an orphanage in England, living an ordinary life. Well, no, you couldn't really say that. I had a ordinary life according to me. Everybody else would think my life is a bit weird.

I have long, dead straight black hair, that is normally hanging down my back, reaching halfwat down. My eyes are a dark brown, even black almost. I'm quite short, with olive skin. You couldn't classify me as anything. People in cliche'd groups, like Emo and Goth, need to have personalities. I don't have much of a personality. I wear dull, plain clothes nearly every day. I dont even know what a mascara brush looks like. Magazines and fasion never intrigued me. Information and facts was what I found interesting.

When I was 7, living a great life with my two lovley parents. They were nice enough people. They fought every now and then, but I knew they still loved eachother. One night, my father got drunk and died driving home from the pub. A month later, my mother, in distress, over-dosed on prescription drugs right in front of me.

I was taken to an orphanage, where the education systems were pretty bad, but doing well in classes was my first priority. If I did well in class and showed people what I could really do, maybe I could get out of this god-forsaken place. The classes were pretty easy for me, once I knew what to do. I was higher than all the other kids my age, and higher than some of the teenagers at 8 years old. I was very anti-social, but very bossy when I was social. I didn't have friends- why would I? When people would talk to me, I would respond very smart-arsey. Because most kids here have lived at the orphannage their whole life, their vocabulary and grammar are shocking, so I generally correct them when they say this like 'youse'. This also made me very hated from the children. When I was 13, however, the Warden at the orphanage noticed my talents, and thought I needed to go to a school with a better education. So every morning, I woke up, and went to Strathmores School for Girls.

As soon as I stepped into that place, I knew I wouldn't like it. Sure, the classes and teachers were good, but the uniforms looked confining, the girls looked bitchy and slutty, and I just looked like I was lost. However, in the classes, the teachers were amazed that I was far above average, even though I came from a run down orphanage school. Although I hated the school and the girls, I continued going to get the benefits that the Warden was paying for.

After two years, my knowledge had grown far past the knowledge of an average adult. The teachers, noticing this, took me into the office and asked me about it. There was nothing to talk about, really, I just continued saying 'I don't know'. The teachers called the Warden from my orphanage down to the school, and were discussing very softly about me, every now and then throwing glances. The Warden then called someone, and spoke on the phone breifly, before she hung up and told me that we're going back to the orphanage to go pack my bags, because I was leaving to live somewhere else. She said a car would be there in half an hour.

You have no idea how confused I was at that moment. The Warden was looking straight foward in the car, and I was completley silent. When we arrived at the orphanage, the Warden said to just go straight up to my room and pack my bags, no stopping on the way, and to come straight back here. I replied with a 'Yes, ma'am.' and walked straight up the stairs to my room, chucked all of my clothes and toiletries in a suitcase, and came back down. I didn't think it took that long, but when I walked out the front, a black Mercedes Benz was waiting for me, and I could only guess that it was the car that was taking me to wherever I was going. Next to the Warden stood a man with greying hair, and I was guessing he was around 60 years old. He wore glasses and a black suit, like he was going to a funeral. When I approached him and the Warden with my suitcase, he looked at me and gave me a slight nod, while saying 'So you must be Delilah.'

The man took the suitcase from me and stored it in the boot of the car, while I said goodbye to the Warden. She looked at me, and I could see tears welling up in her eyes, so I have her a big hug.

'It was nice knowing you, Delilah, I know you'll do well,' she said to me inbetween sobs. I replied with a nod, and walked backwards towards the car, turning around when I was about 2 metres away. The man was already in the front seat, and motioned for me to get into the back, so I did so, while taking one last glance at the orphanage, and waving to my Warden.