I. Rain was hitting hard against the trembling glass at the Green House. I was perched on the ledge watching the rain pour on the daffodils in the garden. It was a cold rain, I felt sad for the daffodils thinking they must be freezing to death out there, isn’t it an evil endeavor to plant flowers so that one may enjoy their beauty selfishly. They kept trying to raise their head after every drop hit them with, what seemed to me, the weight equivalent of a small refrigerator. A hopeless endeavor but nonetheless they kept doing it. Standing up for the enjoyment of their masters, if they were even aware they had one.
II.
Rain was hitting against the trembling glass at the Green House. I arrived today and was immediately sent to the headmaster’s office. She was busy helping prepare breakfast. I was perched on the ledge watching the rain pour on the cement in front of the orphanage. It was a cold rain, with big drops. The trip those drops took I wondered. Did they know they were ultimately falling to their death? Did they have time to think about what their fate might be when they reach the ground? Maybe some of them hoped to reach a puddle where they can be together with their friends, maybe some of them hoped to land in the garden behind the house so that they may help the daffodils grow big and beautiful. Ultimately, the hopes and dreams of the drops were irrelevant to the outcome, none of the drops that smashed mercilessly into the cold concrete chose that fate. It was randomly assigned to them. I wonder, sometimes, who assigns fate?
III.
The headmaster called us for breakfast. Eight children will sit around a table in what once seemed to be a large, happy orphanage, filled with children running and laughing. IF there is such a thing as a happy orphanage. We were happy too, in our simple ways, I guess. Breakfast was as simple as always and now that I think about it, for every meal we have two choices: take it or leave it. The rain was still pounding on the windows and that made our lukewarm tea seem even colder.
IV.
The headmaster called us for breakfast, it was time to introduce me to the other children. Nine children in what once seemed to be a large, happy orphanage, filled with sounds of laughter and play. I saw happy orphanages, I saw many of them, I was, you see, a problem child.
– Children, I want you to meet your new sister. She was given into our care by the state. Please be nice to her.
I had no place at the table. Three children on one side, three on the other, two at each head of the table. None of them seemed to want to move. The mistress shoved two of them together and place a chair for me next to a boy that seemed much much older than me. He seemed older than the headmaster. At least his eyes did.
This tea is horrible.
V.
The short man came by today. He asked to see the children again. I guess it was time for one of us to go on “vacation” to Yemen or Pakistan. He looked at our hands, and picked the one with the smallest ones. He was nine, maybe?
VI.
A short man came by today. He asked to see all the children so the headmaster lined us all up. He had a round face with pointy eyes, like an opossum. He looked at our hands only, such a weird thing. Ultimately he chose to adopt a little boy that didn’t talk at all. I guess he doesn’t like noisy kids. So it is possible to get adopted from this place, such good news!
VII.
Nothing is happening. Same routine, work in the garden, fix stuff around the house, clean the house. Sewing, tinkering, manual labor was at the order of the day. This huge house was barely being maintained by us nine children and three adults. The headmaster, the cook and the gardener. I wouldn’t exactly call this slavery but we didn’t have any time to read or learn, we heard stories passed from child to child that once the headmaster was the teacher. Once… Now it was work from morning till dawn. The headmaster apologized almost every day saying there were no money to hire more people and we had to help around the house. She taught us how to sow everything basically, from shoes to dress shirts. She said that it is important for us, orphans, to be able to fully care for ourselves. Right, “ourselves”.
VIII.
There is so much going on. We have to work in the garden, clean the house, some of the older children are doing electric work and tinkering with the generator. We learned how to sow shirt collars today and I couldn’t quite grasp it at first. The headmaster said that it was important for us orphans to be able to fully care for ourselves. I guess that makes sense but shirt collars?
IX.
The short man came by today, he was looking for someone muscly I think, over the age of thirteen most likely. Nobody fit the criteria so he left a little bit annoyed. I was standing next to the new girl. She hasn’t spoken a word since she arrived. I heard her singing a little song under her breath while she was cleaning the floors upstairs so I guess she’s not mute?
X.
The short man came by today. He is very generous and very picky. I bet he has a huge family if he adopts so many children. I guess nobody was quiet enough this time. Housework is becoming easier with each time I do it. I miss reading books before bed. Nobody here seems to have any books. The children dispersed back to work but I stayed in the living room waiting for the headmaster to come back after seeing the short man out.
-Excuse me, madam headmaster. Is there a school that we will go to soon?
-School? No child, we don’t have time for reading and poetry here. You learn real life skills at this orphanage. If you’re not adopted, how will school help you? Will school teach you how to cook? Will school teach you how to mend your clothes and shoes? You must know how to care for yourself. I won’t let a single child leave this orphanage unable to stand on his or her own two feet out there.
-Can we have books to read before bed then?
-We sold all the books child, money is really tight. I will see maybe I can find some for you. Go back to work now, it’s almost lunch time and the gardener needs your help.
XI.
The key to surviving this orphanage is not to fit any healthy criteria. I figured that out a long time ago. Be skinny, fake shaky hands, have red eyes, stand with one foot a little crooked. Why? Because the little man is not who we think he is and he definitely doesn’t have a mansion like the children say.
XII.
I hope that if I do well in all the tasks the headmaster assigns me, she will get me books soon. I really miss reading. Maybe if I do really well the short man will adopt me to his big mansion where all the other children are. All the kids here say that he is a powerful rich man who cares for the orphans.
XIII. XIV.
-What were you talking about with the headmaster the other day?
-Excuse me?
-I saw you talking in the living room with the headmaster. What did you ask her?
-I asked her if we can get books to read before bed.
-Did she say that she sold all the books?
-Yes. You knew that?
-All the children know that. There is a legend that she hides the books in her office somewhere.
-Why would she do that?
-Because of the deal with the short man.
-What deal?
-Figure it out for yourself.
XV.
Let’s see what she’s going to do with this new information. I don’t want to be put up for quick adoption. I want to survive this place and run away as far as I can. She’s too innocent to make anything of it. Maybe the headmaster will put her up for quick adoption before she ruins it for those of use who figured out the system.
XVI.
-Headmaster, madam. I wondered. Who cleans your office? Do you do it yourself? None of us ever clean it and I thought it must be getting dirty since you’re so busy teaching us all the time.
-My office is fine, don’t worry about it.
-I don’t mind cleaning an extra room upstairs, it’s not too much work.
-I said don’t worry about it child, now go back to your duties.
I would have to wait for my turn to clean upstairs. I’m getting into that office. I didn’t notice anything weird about it when I was inside but then again, I had just arrived. Now that I think about it, there were no books in the office either. There were shelves though, except they had all kinds of trinkets and gifts and statues on them. No books.
XVII.
She’s up to something. I can see it in the way she watches how everything is around here. I planted the seed, now let’s wait to see what grows.
XVIII.
-Headmaster! Headmaster I’m so sorry!
-What happened child?
-I’m very sorry! I spilled the bucket while washing the floor upstairs and some of the water went under the door into your office! I’m so sorry madam.
We went upstairs, she unlocked the office for me and stood in the door frame watching me clean the floor. I tried to look for anything that seemed to be a hiding spot but there was nothing. I guess it was just a legend after all.
XIX.
It’s been another year. Two more years and I’m old enough to leave this place. Three more children joined us and another three left with the short man. The girl is still here. She hasn’t been adopted yet. Good?
XX.
I wonder, why only the short man came by over the past year? Is he an agency for other families that give him the criteria for adoption? But who would want to adopt someone just because they are quiet? Am I too noisy? Maybe it’s something else?
XXI.
It’s my 16th birthday. I must leave by the end of next week. I was allowed to go into the city for the past two month in order to find a job and an apartment. I’m finally free and won’t be dragged into some god forsaken factory making clothes for those greedy westerners. Child labor should be outlawed like torture. I’m my own man now. We celebrated by having juice and a pie. The headmaster held a speech that for some of us, life has a different plan and god or something planted enough strength inside for us to be able to survive on our own. Right, that crooked bitch. If only I could prove anything she’d be sitting in jail for child abuse.
XXII.
It’s his birthday today. He must leave the orphanage by the end of next week. I think he found a job in town. I’m sort of happy for him that he is moving on to newer things. I hope I’ll be adopted in the next three years so that I don’t have to be on my own, like him. The thought kind of scares me.
XXIII.
I walk into town. Finally free. Finally on my own two feet. That maniac can’t get to me anymore. The Green House fades behind the hill. It’s a few hours walk but it feels like nothing. It’s my life now. A car passes by me and I see the girl in the backseat looking at me.
XXIV.
We’re driving into town, I see the boy walking along the road and I ask the short man if we can pick him up. He says nothing and keeps driving. I wonder who adopted me.
The End.
Part of the writing challenge between me and E.Hastings.
Submitted September 12, 2016 at 10:12PM by windyx http://ift.tt/2cyGFEn shortstories
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