Author's Note: Hello again, long time no see :) Thank you to those who left reviews and favorited and followed my story. It really motivated me to write even more and above all, it just made my day a whole lot brighter. Thank you.

Then with that, I present you the next chapter. Thank you for your patience and I hope you enjoy!

Why?

A month. Brother and I had stayed at the orphanage for a month and no matter how hard I tried to be thankful for being able to have a place to stay in, I did not like it here. I did not like being an orphan.

The lady, our caretaker, was scary. She always wore a tight smile and had a fake twinkle in her eyes. She had ugly wrinkles drawn across her cheeks and forehead from constantly smiling in such a heavy manner (it seems that there was even a limit to smiling too much), and she had a slight twitch in her left eye whenever she grew impatient and irritated.

The other orphans were also not the most welcoming people. News of our arrival spread like wildfire when Brother and I arrived at the orphanage; from the first minute we introduced ourselves to the other children, they looked at us with contempt and disdain. Why? I would never understand, but Brother told me to just ignore them as they were just children. However, I still did not understand. Were we not children too?

But even so, this was our home now. And as long as Brother was here, I would survive this place—the caretaker and the children. I was eight years old now—a big girl.

"Ha ha! Look at her run!"

"She looks so funny! Fat like a pig!"
"Never should have come to this place!"
"Yeah! Go back to where you and your brother belong!"

Rocks were thrown. A leg was stretched out. I tripped and fell. I never knew that the ground could hurt that much. The children laughed. And they laughed with a laughter cruel enough to chase away all the stars dancing in the night sky, leaving it empty and dark.

I did not understand.

They pulled at my hair. And called it ugly. Mother said it was pretty though, but how could I have forgotten, Mother was dead now.

"Haha! Look at her curled up on the floor! She's so weak!"

I did not understand.

Why were they hurting me? Were we not of the same cause? Were we all not orphans? Where was the empathy—the compassion?

I just did not understand.

Why was there so much hatred?

The children kicked me in the stomach and in the ribs and in the legs and in the head.

They kicked me till I no longer had any more tears left to shed—till I no longer made any more sound except for a heavy breathing that sounded through the silence. Never would I have thought that I would gasp for so much air like a bobbling fish stranded on land. I felt trapped.

A shoe kicked up from the ground. Dirt sprayed into my eyes. The shoe landed onto my face.

I squeezed my eyes shut, my ears covered. Block out the pain.

Another kick. A hard one.

Stay strong. I promised Brother.

A cut. It hurts.

Do not let them get you. Do not—

"What is going on here!?"

Walking into the backyard of the orphanage, the caretaker came with hands at her hips. However this time, she came without that hefty smile but a mouth trembling with anger. The caretaker did not like noise, and the children's laughters and taunting cries at me must have been far enough of a noise level for her. Then, she must have seen everything right? She was here to rescue me right? Of course. Otherwise, why was she here? She would keep these children away from me. I was confident (perhaps the caretaker was not as horrible as I thought).

"I said what is going on here!?" she repeated again. Her left eye began twitching.

I swallowed. Then spoke.

" , they were—"

"Aki was bullying us!" One of the children abruptly shouted.

What? No, I did not—

"Yeah! We just wanted to play with her, but then she started hurting us!" The children all nodded their heads in agreement, though I could see that some of them were reluctantly agreeing with what was being said. Why? Why would you just nod your heads!

The caretaker turned towards me and stared at me hard. "Aki."

I turned towards the ground. The twitch in her left eye was very noticeable now.

No. No, everything was wrong. Why did it happen like this?

The caretaker's eyes were filled with disapproval and it hurt. It felt like a thousand cuts. I wished she would smile right now—even if it was her notorious curve of the lip that was plastered so horribly onto her face. It was better than her displeasure.

"No lunch for you today."

Wait...no, no, no! I did nothing!

"Ms. Nile, it wasn't me—"

Slap!

Her palm cracked against my cheek.

"How dare you attack your fellow friends! And then you deny your sins! No lunch and dinner now!" Her eyes were wild.

My fingers gently brushed over my pulsing red cheek. It burned. And friends?

I clenched my fists. How could you not see! I am covered in dirt and the rest are not! I have cuts from the rocks and bruises everywhere and they do not! They are smiling and some are even giggling at me getting reprimanded! Those are not friends! How could you not see!

"Leave. I do not want to see your face until tomorrow morning. Think about what you have done." She pointed her witch-like finger towards the door—the door that was left wide open as if taunting me to come back and lock myself in the prison again. And every time I passed its frames, it would whisper to me, you will never escape.

I clenched my jaw tight. There was no point in fighting here. No one would win. Mother always reminded me that responsible people knew when to stop the fight—and I was a big girl now. And so I walked and walked and walked into that void of darkness. I know now. No one will save me here. Here, the adults were just as heartless as the children. And I would never forget the slight curve of the caretaker's lip, cruel and heartless, as I walked past her. She enjoyed my suffering just as the children did. And yet, I still did not understand. Why? Why would people do such things? What had I ever done to them? I would never understand.