Introduction
It was a dark dreary day when Albert Waise was born, rain pounded on poorly fitted slates often found in the slums on the borders of the empire, anything that was left unbound found itself gone with the wind as a true storm thundered overhead.
There was a bustle of women in dirty robes cleaning and attempting to repair the many leaks the orphanage had sprung seemingly out of nowhere, as I comprehended all of this, I felt a deep sense of unease, as if something was fundamentally wrong.
I was cold, The air felt cold, The arms cradling me were cold, The eyes that watched me from the walls felt cold, but most of all; the face that looked at me in the reflection of a nearby window was simply frigid and fundamentally wrong, so I wailed, the eyes did not leave me, and the face remained.
"Miss, MISS!" I hear a unknown person yell
I felt the cold arms holding me jostle but I did not look away from the reflection.
"SOMEONE HELP!" the voice calls out again
I am moved, I can no longer see the reflection, but the eyes remain, The arms holding me are warm now, the cold does not leave.
"Is she alright?" Spoke the voice, followed by a pause.
"N- no, it appears she died some time ago." Spoke a different voice.
"What are we to do with the boy?" The first asked.
"Put him with the other orphans." Replied the second voice.
"A- and the body? Surely we must give his mother a proper burial." Came the first voice.
"We can't. The ground is sodden. It will be frozen come morning." Said the second voice.
I feel myself being moved again, I hope the eyes don't follow me, or g̴̞̓o̷̔ͅd̵̈́ͅ forbid that face finds me in my next dwelling.
"Don't worry, you'll have a proper bed soon enough".
I hear creaking, this new space is dark, the cold is not in the air, but the eyes are many, I wonder if they too see that face.
"sleep well young one, I hope you survive this storm".
Yes, maybe I will survive, I suppose
Only 316 words for the intro
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