A Curious Place

• Ella- Bleau Paterson, Grade 5
• Short Story
• 2017

The world is a curious place that is what I thought as I sat on the roof of the orphanage. The world has a way of making times the most joyous and then also the most horrid. I've never had a name so I cannot tell you what it is, it seems as though I'm invisible to a humans eye. I wish that at any stage of my life I have felt a blast of euphoria but no, not even one fragment if my life have I ever felt that way. I always think I've been cursed it may be inconceivable or may not be.
I sat on my dirty grey bed, slowly picking up my dirty, muddy boots and then put them on. I went and lined up to get some breakfast witch is just repulsive slop they call food, I don't even have to masticate it, it just slips down my throat. I actually don't care anymore I'm used to it now. I sat by myself nobody wants to sit next to me I guess I'm just to preternatural. I finished eating and got myself ready for cleaning.
This week was choosing week, 5 lucky kids would be chosen by family's, couples and just people who are alone. The headmistress of the orphanage made us clean extra hard to make the place glimmer and smell like roses, it doesn't really make a difference to the place it still smells of garbage, dirt, rotten food and other horrible smells, but we still have to clean and scrub from the floor to the ceiling. Someone will come today then tomorrow and so on, I have always wished I would be chosen then just maybe i could feel joy, love and happiness just maybe. I dream of it every night the fun I could have with a family finally have parents and a name.
The first family came they looked lovely they had a little girl and very nice smiles they just looked wonderful. I crossed my fingers as they walked down the corridor looking at all the children who were all begging to be chosen. They walked all way down the halls and up the stairs and stopped and asked a girl what her name was how old she was, this is what she said in a baby like voice, "My name is Lavender and I am 3 years old." That night there was one less sad soul in the orphanage, Lavender had gone home to a lovely family, a sibling to play with and parents to give her warmth and love.
The next day a couple came, this was it I had to be chosen, the headmistress introduced them to us then they took a stroll down the hall then they pointed to me and asked me politely "What is your name sweetheart," there was silence."I don't have a name." "We'll call you Hugo."