Lonely Families

• Zara Wilson, Grade 7
• Short Story
• 2022

Lonely Families

The journey is long when there is no one to talk to. Other families don’t realise how loneliness works. It isn’t like a rock sitting in the bottom of your gut. It’s like a snake, winding its way around your heart, squeezing harder until you break. It isn’t obvious to others, but it’s there. People are too busy with their own lives to notice, let alone help anyone else. No one notices the boy, all alone in the busy cabin. No one notices the single tear slip down his cheek. As the train winds around the cliff, he looks around the cabin. He sees the sleeping baby in the tired mother’s arms. The father, reading a book to the little girl sitting beside him. They all look like a family, with brown eyes and brown hair. Except him. The mother had told him that orphans always stay as orphans. “We only got you for the grant from the government.” He knew all about the government. His father was a politician, renowned for his quick thinking and smooth talking. “He was a real charmer,” his mother had often remarked. And then it happened. It happened so fast. No one knew what to say. Mother, Father, even the doctors, all speechless. It was spread across all the newspapers. Everyone knew. He still didn’t know what to say. It had been 3 years, long enough for everyone to forget. Not him. He would never forget them. They were too important. 3 years would never be enough to take away the pain. Grief was even worse than loneliness. It was even worse after the accident. Well, they said it was an accident, but he knew different. He had seen it. His mother had been like any other mother, caring and strong, but then she just wilted, like all the plants in the house. She was always tired, and the house fell into disarray. When the disease swept through, taking everyone with it, he knew she wouldn’t try to stay. Not even for him. She was so weak. It had changed her. She was so pale, like the snow outside the window. His father was the only thing keeping her alive, but when he disappeared, the house fell silent. She left soon after.
With the owners of the house gone, the staff wouldn’t stay. Couldn’t stay. They had families to go to, lives to live. And yet his had just shriveled and died.
The orphanage picked him up from school. He was so glad to not go to school anymore. He couldn’t deal with the sympathetic glances and smiles. Even the orphanage was better than the big, lonely house with a little child.
And then the family came. This family. They turned up one morning. Before they had even introduced themselves, they wanted him. He should have been grateful, but this family was nothing to be happy about. But he couldn’t just leave. Or could he?