Heavy breathing. Ears ringing. The other kids are laughing at me. The caretakers are furious at me. My hands are tainted red with my blood, small cuts on them from the broken vase.
I've had enough of this...
*SHLICK* I fall, my vision blurry as the blood seeps from my throat. The piece of broken vase falls from my bleeding hand and further shatters on the floor. The other kids stare in shock, some covering their eyes.
The caretakers look down in disgust, I hear one mutter "About time..."
My vision fades to black, my whole miserable life flashing before me as I am dragged into the infinite emptiness of death.
I never knew my parents, all I can remember is this orphanage. The horrors that occurred within these walls. I want to forget them all. All I can remember from all these years, his beatings, her lashings, their putrid touch.
They broke me beyond repair, made me ashamed of who I am and even more ashamed of who I wanted to be. I wanted to be beautiful, I wanted to be loved, I wanted to be happy. But even that is too much to ask. I'm dirty, my mind filled with filth they put in my brain. My minds anger beyond it's boiling point, but the moment those monsters enter the room, the lid is shut tight, held together by fear.
I would ask for help, but it was all for nought. I asked the other orphans, told them I was being harmed beyond repair. They laughed, called me names, called me weak. I know. I know that better than you ever will, yet hearing it from you makes it as painful as a knife.
I needed help, but got hurt. Singled out, denied the clothes I wanted. Was scolded for being who I wanted. I asked the people on the streets. "Please help me out of here, I'll do anything". Yet I was met with the same putrid touch from the orphanage. I'm dirty, in both mind and soul. I didn't want this. Any of it. What did I do to deserve it?
My body is scared from the beatings, from both the caretakers and other kids. Scars climb up my body like an infection. No part of me is free from pain.
I grew up, now 16. It only got worse. More beatings, more bullying, more putrid touch. My mind rewired into feeling pleasure. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it.
Then it happened, another normal day. Another round of bullying. The caretakers knew, but to no surprise, they couldn't care less. I'm pushed, punched and shoved, until eventually...
*shatter*. Mortified, I look down at my feet. The caretakers vase, shattered. Only now do they care. Though not about my well-being of course. About their vase. I hold back the tears as more abuse is hurled my way. My breathing heavy, my ears ringing, the others laugh at my tears I never realised were spilling out. The pent up emotions from the past 16 years all overflow at once.
I pick up the vase piece, and return to the endless nothingness.
Light. Faint light enters my vision, as if awaking from slumber. My eyes slowly open once more. How? I stare up and see a tired, yet ecstatic face. A young woman, maybe around 25. Long red hair tied up in a ponytail and emerald green eyes, along with skin so smooth it would make any fashion model jealous. To her side, a man not much older than her stands with a big dopey grin, he has short brown hair and matching brown eyes that make eye contact with mine. The woman speaks out, seemingly to me. "Awhhh my beautiful baby girl. Welcome to the world, Nyssa." She than gently brought me into an embrace, with the man joining in as well.
Warmth. This feeling is warm. It's an incredible feeling. Then for a reason I don't quite understand. I started to softly cry.