Disclaimer: Brooke, the orphanage, the storyline, it's all mine.
Unfortunately, TP isn't and neither are any of her books, so don't sure me,
anyways I don't have any money, so you wouldn't make anything either.
Hatred, bitter hatred runs through young veins. Hatred against the world, hatred against people, and hatred against the orphanage. Perhaps one day this would come to pass, but for now it shall stay. This is the story of a girl, and girl with an extraordinary gift, that may prevent our worlds from colliding and creating utter chaos. A story of how she finds herself, and her purpose in life, and how much she really is loved. a story of Brooke K'rownd, a girl full of hatred that somehow.hopefully can save life as we know it. (Everyone this is my first fic. bear with me please!)
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I sit at my desk, alone in the corner of the room that was my classroom. Tapping my pencil up and down repetitively. This was my class, a small cramped room with 32 desks. yes, it was very cramped. But this wasn't just our classroom, it was our school. Pretty pathetic ay? Yeah, well it's true. This was the school for our orphanage, La Trot Talnud Orphanage. All grades were cramped within one classroom, even me, a 7th grader stuck with Kindergarteners. It was annoying sometimes, to wait for the teacher, Sister Crawford, to finish explaining something to the young ones before she taught us something. Well, alright it was more like annoying all the time.
I had come to the orphanage about 4 years ago, I was probably ten. I hated it, and I still do. It is extremely poor, as you may tell from our 'school'. We have little to eat or drink each day and our schedules were completely empty except for the 6 hours of schoolwork each day, so boredom came quickly. I came from an uneducated family. My mother was a high-school drop out turned beauty-stylists, and a drug addict. My father, pah- he was never around I don't even know why I still call him father, he's gone now anyways- also dropped out of high school thinking it was pointless, and was an alcoholic. I, on the other hand, was expected to become a teenage mother, or a juvenile delinquent, but instead I ended up an orphan. It all happened so fast, my father, dying of cardiac arrest and a year later my mother of lung cancer. I couldn't say I was shocked, the amount of booze and drugs they took in a day, but it was all very mortifying. I was taken to the orphanage, which I knew, had to be better than what I was living under, physical abuse -the wounds I had on my back from father's belt- and verbal abuse, hell, anything would be better than that. But perhaps I was wrong.
When I arrived at the orphanage I was shocked to see a small building, maybe the size of my old house. The paint was chipping and their appeared to be tiles missing.i ah, so this is where the tax payer's money is going my old teacher would have said./i But, there was no more old teacher; there were no more old friends or old family. It was all taken away from me, all gone. a mere memory. I was taken to the head of La Trot's office, where the strict nun showed me exactly where to be for meals and such, and what a disappointment it was to arrive and receive a small bowl of slop for every meal of the day. I was introduced to Sister Crawford. I hated every waking moment of this place, the roof above my bunk bed leaked and lucky me I got to sleep on the top. The mattresses I believe were made of iron, perhaps stone, more likely stone; it was less expensive and sharper. I seriously began to believe that orphanage's sole purpose was to torture the orphans into pure misery.
I had been given a number of foster homes, but my hatred had built so strong I refused to let anyone adopt me, no one, because I hated everyone, and everything. One home, I stumbled across a book, it was worn, like it had been read many times, and the author's name was rubbed out, but I could make out two simple letters, spaced well apart. T..P... but that was it. The family gave me the book, saying they couldn't adopt me anyway. That was just more proof no one liked me and they all wished I never lived, all the more reason for me to hate everyone.
I left that family about a week ago, and that pretty much brings me up to this point I'm at now. Sitting at my desk, tapping my pencil. In front of me, was that mysterious book with T, P written on it. I squinted carefully at the title, which also had been worn away, I could scarcely make out the words "Alanna: The First Adventure". Everyone else was gone, away, on the playground-well grass, dead grass- or in the sleeping room. I had complete and utter tranquility, and so I began my splurge in the book by this mysterious person named TP, or so I had began to call them.
~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~
Some kids now came in the classroom, sweaty and smelly, and most importantly, making a huge fuss. I gave them a glare full of bitter hatred, how dare they disturb me! I thought for a moment, if recess was over. had it really been an hour? I was so totally submerged in the book, it hadn't seemed like that long. The orphans shut up, and the teacher began to give her lecture. I wasn't listening, what did I care? I'd still ace the test, it was always too easy. I was practicing an old skill I learned long ago, to completely block out all noise around me, and focus on the important thing. In this case the important thing was the book. and getting to the end.
~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~
The class was gone, but I didn't notice, I stayed reading that book. and now, I was on the last page. I turned the page slowly, knowing I did not have the next book in the series, so I would not want to finish, for then I would be lost in a world without Alanna. Without her wonderful friends and horrendous temper. A world without Sir Myles and chivalry, and courage. A world that I wished was my own. instead of this sh*t of a life I was living now.
And then, I finished, and I swerved back into reality. I felt dizzy, and realized I hadn't eaten at all today. I glanced up at the wall clock and found that it was 6 o'clock, I'd be late, but that was no big deal compared to the huge migraine that was coming my way. I always got the worst headaches when I didn't eat. I rushed to the mess hall after dropping my book off at my bunk bed, and collected my bowl of crap for dinner. Hey, it was better than nothing.
I finished eating and then headed to my room.. Tomorrow was another day.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~
Sorry that it was really boring, this was mostly an introduction to Brooke, her personality and how she came to the orphanage in the first place. I know it's really boring.. I'm sorry, I wanted to fit some sort of exciting point there, but I just couldn't think of when the timed be right. Please send all the honest reviews you can and I'd greatly appreciate it. thank you soo sooo much! Please don't give up on me, when the climax of the story kicks in you'll be glad you didn't.. thanx.
Hatred, bitter hatred runs through young veins. Hatred against the world, hatred against people, and hatred against the orphanage. Perhaps one day this would come to pass, but for now it shall stay. This is the story of a girl, and girl with an extraordinary gift, that may prevent our worlds from colliding and creating utter chaos. A story of how she finds herself, and her purpose in life, and how much she really is loved. a story of Brooke K'rownd, a girl full of hatred that somehow.hopefully can save life as we know it. (Everyone this is my first fic. bear with me please!)
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
I sit at my desk, alone in the corner of the room that was my classroom. Tapping my pencil up and down repetitively. This was my class, a small cramped room with 32 desks. yes, it was very cramped. But this wasn't just our classroom, it was our school. Pretty pathetic ay? Yeah, well it's true. This was the school for our orphanage, La Trot Talnud Orphanage. All grades were cramped within one classroom, even me, a 7th grader stuck with Kindergarteners. It was annoying sometimes, to wait for the teacher, Sister Crawford, to finish explaining something to the young ones before she taught us something. Well, alright it was more like annoying all the time.
I had come to the orphanage about 4 years ago, I was probably ten. I hated it, and I still do. It is extremely poor, as you may tell from our 'school'. We have little to eat or drink each day and our schedules were completely empty except for the 6 hours of schoolwork each day, so boredom came quickly. I came from an uneducated family. My mother was a high-school drop out turned beauty-stylists, and a drug addict. My father, pah- he was never around I don't even know why I still call him father, he's gone now anyways- also dropped out of high school thinking it was pointless, and was an alcoholic. I, on the other hand, was expected to become a teenage mother, or a juvenile delinquent, but instead I ended up an orphan. It all happened so fast, my father, dying of cardiac arrest and a year later my mother of lung cancer. I couldn't say I was shocked, the amount of booze and drugs they took in a day, but it was all very mortifying. I was taken to the orphanage, which I knew, had to be better than what I was living under, physical abuse -the wounds I had on my back from father's belt- and verbal abuse, hell, anything would be better than that. But perhaps I was wrong.
When I arrived at the orphanage I was shocked to see a small building, maybe the size of my old house. The paint was chipping and their appeared to be tiles missing.i ah, so this is where the tax payer's money is going my old teacher would have said./i But, there was no more old teacher; there were no more old friends or old family. It was all taken away from me, all gone. a mere memory. I was taken to the head of La Trot's office, where the strict nun showed me exactly where to be for meals and such, and what a disappointment it was to arrive and receive a small bowl of slop for every meal of the day. I was introduced to Sister Crawford. I hated every waking moment of this place, the roof above my bunk bed leaked and lucky me I got to sleep on the top. The mattresses I believe were made of iron, perhaps stone, more likely stone; it was less expensive and sharper. I seriously began to believe that orphanage's sole purpose was to torture the orphans into pure misery.
I had been given a number of foster homes, but my hatred had built so strong I refused to let anyone adopt me, no one, because I hated everyone, and everything. One home, I stumbled across a book, it was worn, like it had been read many times, and the author's name was rubbed out, but I could make out two simple letters, spaced well apart. T..P... but that was it. The family gave me the book, saying they couldn't adopt me anyway. That was just more proof no one liked me and they all wished I never lived, all the more reason for me to hate everyone.
I left that family about a week ago, and that pretty much brings me up to this point I'm at now. Sitting at my desk, tapping my pencil. In front of me, was that mysterious book with T, P written on it. I squinted carefully at the title, which also had been worn away, I could scarcely make out the words "Alanna: The First Adventure". Everyone else was gone, away, on the playground-well grass, dead grass- or in the sleeping room. I had complete and utter tranquility, and so I began my splurge in the book by this mysterious person named TP, or so I had began to call them.
~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~
Some kids now came in the classroom, sweaty and smelly, and most importantly, making a huge fuss. I gave them a glare full of bitter hatred, how dare they disturb me! I thought for a moment, if recess was over. had it really been an hour? I was so totally submerged in the book, it hadn't seemed like that long. The orphans shut up, and the teacher began to give her lecture. I wasn't listening, what did I care? I'd still ace the test, it was always too easy. I was practicing an old skill I learned long ago, to completely block out all noise around me, and focus on the important thing. In this case the important thing was the book. and getting to the end.
~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~
The class was gone, but I didn't notice, I stayed reading that book. and now, I was on the last page. I turned the page slowly, knowing I did not have the next book in the series, so I would not want to finish, for then I would be lost in a world without Alanna. Without her wonderful friends and horrendous temper. A world without Sir Myles and chivalry, and courage. A world that I wished was my own. instead of this sh*t of a life I was living now.
And then, I finished, and I swerved back into reality. I felt dizzy, and realized I hadn't eaten at all today. I glanced up at the wall clock and found that it was 6 o'clock, I'd be late, but that was no big deal compared to the huge migraine that was coming my way. I always got the worst headaches when I didn't eat. I rushed to the mess hall after dropping my book off at my bunk bed, and collected my bowl of crap for dinner. Hey, it was better than nothing.
I finished eating and then headed to my room.. Tomorrow was another day.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~
Sorry that it was really boring, this was mostly an introduction to Brooke, her personality and how she came to the orphanage in the first place. I know it's really boring.. I'm sorry, I wanted to fit some sort of exciting point there, but I just couldn't think of when the timed be right. Please send all the honest reviews you can and I'd greatly appreciate it. thank you soo sooo much! Please don't give up on me, when the climax of the story kicks in you'll be glad you didn't.. thanx.