I never liked Saturdays. It meant no school, it meant no church. It meant staying home, it meant no escape.

MondayandTuesdayandWednesdayThursdayFriday. Those days were great. I had friends, I had good grades. The teachers actually liked me! When my friends asked me why my parents never picked me up or came to any prize givings or performances, I always made excuses. Mum's with Gran at the hospital. Dad's at work. They bought it.

My teachers sent me pitying glances. They knew. Don't they always? They may have liked me, but they never once pulled me aside, just to ask if I was okay, or to talk.

I don't understand. What did I do to deserve this? What fault have I committed, in a past life perhaps? Please, please, forgive me! I didn't mean it!

The only reprieve I can get on Saturdays is when the land of dreams steal me away and sweet unconsciousness overcomes me. I can sing with the birds, swim in the river, and dance under the moonlight. All my worries can simply- melt away.

But it's not the truth. It can never be, no matter how much I wish it. I am trapped, and will be forever more haunted by the ghosts of my secret past.

Secret. Now that's the truth. I am entangled in a web of lies, and it all comes back to a cold building I call a home.

I never really liked it, but it has been my home for my whole life, The Orphanage.