Page 6 of Bad for You

I haven’t shed a single tear in company since.

The moon is full, allowing the shadows to dance across the lawn. This place is like a castle the wicked witch in any Disney movie would live in. But it’s the only home I know.

I’ve not been allowed to watch TV in a little while, but when I did, I was fascinated by the movies with families laughing and smiling, where things were always light and never black, which is what my world is. I live in the shadows because I want to blend into the darkness.

I want to disappear.

Does that world really exist? If He is good, why does nothing but bad happen to me?

Something shiny catches my eye from outside, interrupting my thoughts.

Quickly sitting up, I wipe away my tears so I can get a better look at who is in the gardens in the middle of the night.

It’s a boy I’ve not seen before.

He looks tall, and his hair is brown. But apart from that, I can’t make out much else.

I watch in interest as he crouches low and slowly begins moving toward a large hedge. I don’t know why, but his movements leave me breathless. I feel like I’m watching a predator stalk his prey.

It seems impossible, but the closer he gets, the darkness seems to wrap him further into the shadows, where I almost can’t see him. I want to be like that because he isn’t afraid of the dark; it bends to his will. Even nature seems to be under his spell.

He stops as if measuring the right moment, and when he lunges forward and produces a tiny ball of white fluff in his hand, I realize that he truly is a hunter.

The white fluffball is a kitten. It’s tiny, and I wonder where its mother is. Was it also abandoned?

I get onto my knees and interlock my fingers through the bars, needing to get a closer view of the mystery boy. He pats the kitten before slipping him into the pocket of his sweater. I don’t know why, but the gesture touches me.

To be cared for that way must be nice.

He peers from left to right before walking back toward the orphanage. He isn’t in any hurry, not bothered that he is outside unsupervised. I wonder how he got out. I also wonder why he isn’t running away. But where would he go? Where would any of us go?

We don’t have any family, which is why we’re here.

He is almost out of sight but suddenly stops. A breath catches in my throat when he lifts his chin slowly, and our eyes lock. Even from this distance away, I know he can see me. He caught me spying.

I quickly retreat, embarrassed I’ve been caught.

But then I do something bold. I slowly reemerge, only to see him standing in the same spot, peering up at the window.

Under the starless sky, we simply stare at one another.

His long hair falls over one eye, but there is no question that he is striking. He is also brave.

He lifts a hand, and it’s a gesture that I reciprocate because no one has waved at me before. No one has cared enough about me to say hello.

And then he disappears into the shadows like he never really existed at all.

The only proof that he was real is the thumping of my heart.

I’m allowed to eat breakfast in the dining hall with everyone else today, and I know that means we’ll be lined up and paraded around in hopes of being adopted.

It’s always the same; optimistic parents enter through the doors in hopes of finding their perfect child. It goes without saying that I am no one’s first, second, or even last choice. I’m overlooked because I’m too much work.

No one wants to adopt a scrawny child with eyes too big for her freckled face. The other children wear their best clothes andcomb their hair, while I’m in dresses two sizes too big and shoes with worn-down soles.

The bruises and cuts I constantly sport make me look like a troublemaker. If only they knew how I obtained them. But no one seems to care. The sisters stopped listening a long time ago as they knew my mother and didn’t want anything to do with me, afraid my wickedness would rub off on them somehow.

I am alone.

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