Untitled 3

• Cari Ramadan, Grade 9, Alfred Deakin High School
• Short Story
• 2014

Excellence Award in the 'Write As Rain 2014' competition

I don’t have a name. Never have, probably never will. My mother died while birthing me, so I was given to my mother’s rich cousin, who just left me in a room with some toys. A nurse came twice a day to feed me. I was often told that if I had been a noisy child, I would have been thrown in the river. I don’t doubt it. I was given enough food, second-hand books, clothes and toys. Sometimes I was given an old textbook, so I learnt Maths, Science and History. I was given English textbooks too, but they never taught me anything as I already knew everything in them from reading stories. But I was never given a name. I used to think that having a name was a privilege, and all the story people were privileged, but I learnt better. One day when I was 8, I asked the nurse how people got names. She laughed, and said that everyone got a name unless they were completely useless and unloved. I didn’t like her after that. One day, when I was 9 or 10, someone took me from my room and put me out on the street. I hoped life might be better, but it wasn’t. I had to scavenge about for food and clothing as a dirty thief. Sometimes, some kind person gave me half a sandwich or an apple quarter. I went to the library sometimes and read. There are so many books, and I loved reading them all. But even though I got given this, I was never given a name, because after all, who would want to name a dirty, thieving, orphan girl?
My name was the first untitled. Untitled 1.
Very soon after being abandoned, I found a book on the street. It’s a really, really fantastic book. I can get lost in it and forget my troubles, but I can also think about it and relate it to myself. That’s the great thing about fantasy books – the worlds are so easy to get lost in yet it so closely resembles life in our boring world. And it’s one of those books I can read again and again but it never gets boring. Only, it’s quite old, so it had been battered around a fair bit before I found it. The front cover and the first few introduction pages are missing, as is the back cover, so I don’t know what it’s called. I’ve looked all through the book, but it isn’t there.
The book, which suits me so well, was also untitled. Untitled 2.
I found this bit of paper on the street and decided to write on it and make it special. I now travel to different houses, but at least I get fairly consistent food. I’m 13 or 14 now, and I’ve had my share of good and bad. This paper, which I shall treasure, is my life.
Untitled 3.