Bad To Worse

The trees bent, the wind howled and the rain bombarded the now pulpy ground. I stared out my bedroom window, into the falling water, expressionless. There was a pounding in my head, as if it was getting hit by a hammer. My music was so loud it hurt my head, but I didn’t want to hear the shouting coming from outside my room, my parents were fighting...again.

Suddenly lights caught my eye from outside, and I saw our four-wheel drive, driving away from the cabin. I instantly turned down my music, but there was nothing. No fighting. I knew what had just happened, and I was afraid that I would never see that four-wheel drive again. The next day I came home. The car was no where in sight, and neither was the cabin.
It had been burnt to the ground. A sickening feeling came over me. Was it possible to lose your father, possibly forever, and your home, all in 24 hours?...yes, yes it was.

I felt extremely sorry for all the times I’ve hurt another living thing’s homes. All the ant hills, webs of the spiders, all of them, I now know how they all felt when I committed such a crime.
I found myself kneeling in the dirt, tears streaming out of my eyes.
“Why must life be so unfair?” I asked myself.
I eventually pulled myself together. I began rummaging through the soot, looking for anything that may have survived the fire. I found some old keys, a tea towel and what must have once been my favorite soft toy, floppy. I grabbed my mobile phone and called my mum. Then I herd the most horrible sound, one I could not have even imagined. It was my mums phone.

I froze, I wished I was mistaken, that it couldn’t have possibly been my mums phone, but there was not doubt about it. I didn’t turn around towards the sound and go looking for it, I knew what it meant, what must have happened. More tears from my eyes fell to the ground. I didn’t bother wiping them away, I just stood their crying silently. I had never cried so much in my life, I think it would have been like in the cartoons, when they are crying so much that the people around them need umbrellas.
Not only was it possible to lose your father and home in 24 hours, it was possible to lose everything. Your father, your home, your favorite soft toy...and your mother.
My mother never took her phone from her pocket. Ever. Unless she’s running around in the woods naked (which would have meant the fire started while she was in the shower), she was definitely in the house when the fire got to its worst, and trapped her in.
I’m not sure how long I stood there, quietly crying, wishing that this was a nightmare, a horrible, horrible nightmare. And that was when I became an orphan.

I was taken away to an old, broken down house. I felt cold and alone while walking down the barley lit hall way. I was taken to a small room, with 8 small beds squished in there, it smelt rather horrible but was pretty clean. There were other girls already in there, they were all looking at me, i must have been quiet a sight, hair everywhere and covered in soot, my eyes would still have been red from the crying. I was put in a room with eight other girls, there wasn’t enough beds in the room, so I was stuck on the floor. I spent that night quietly crying, getting no sleep. The next morning, Stacy introduced herself to me.
“Hi,” She said sounding a little unsure about what to do, I was still in bed crying. I stopped crying at that time and turned towards her.
“I’m Stacy,” She said while sitting down on my mattress, “what’s your name?”
“Jesse,” I half said, half sobbed.
“Hello Jesse. Are you o.k? well, I guess the answer is obviously no. Is there anything i can do to help? do you want to talk about it?” Stacy asked me.
“No,” I simply answered.
“To which one?” She laughed. But I wasn’t in the mood to join in.
“Sorry,”She said,”But it’s not so bad here. I’ve been most of my life.” Her tone got rather sad at the end, which made me sit up.
“You have?” I asked.
“Yes, I was in a car crash when I was very young, three. My parents along with my older brother and sister were all killed. I can’t remember anything about them, only what I’ve been told.”
“I’m so sorry. That’s horrible, and I thought I had it bad,” I muttered.
“What happened? How did you end up here?” Stacy asked me.
“I was an only child, well technically. My mum did have twins, but they died very young, drowned. Just two days ago, my dad walked out on my family. The day after, I came home and my house had burned down, with my mum inside,” I spoke very quietly.
“I wouldn’t say I’ve had worse,” Stacy said after a little while.
“But you lost your family when you were much younger then me,” I contradicted.
“Yes, but I don’t remember them, which means you had more to lose. Besides, I hear my mother was a drunk and my father was an abusive man,” She told me.
“Well, at least I got to know mine. At least I have memories,” I replied.

We both sat in silence for a while. She then introduced me to the other girls in the room, where I would be staying for a long time.
My days there turned into weeks, which turned into months. I have to say though, once you get past the creepy look, disturbing smell and some of the unfriendly adults, its not that bad, it’s like living in a large family. We were all very close, but none like me and Stacy. We had some people come every now and then, to pick someone to adopt, but they always go for the youngest. I was getting used to my new home, when the Winsert’s arrived. There was a young beautiful woman, and a young beautiful man.
Stacy and I were playing outside on an old, broken down swing set. We were laughing and smiling so much, it was surprising at first how much something so little, like a broken swing set, could make us so happy. I could hear the adults talking.

“Do they both always get along so well?” Mrs Winsert asked.
“Stacy and Jesse? Oh yes, Stacy has been here since she was a little older then three, family died in a car accident. Jesse has only been here for a few months, her home and family all taken by a fire,” Mrs Freit, the orphanage owner, explained.
“How horrible,” Mrs Winsert gasped.
“Three?” was all Mr Winsert said.
“How old are they?” Mrs Winsert asked.
“Stacy and Jesse are both eight. Its amusing really. They are both the same age and have the same birthday. It’s almost as if they were really meant to be born as twins,” Mrs Freit said with a little laugh, trying to lighten the mood.
“They are so sweet, what do you think Daniel?” Mrs Winsert asked her husband.
“I think it would be to hard to pick one Jenny, would you like two daughters?” Daniel replied. Mrs Freit was smiling like crazy, and seeing as I was pretending not to listen, I tried very hard not to jump around cheering. I didn’t mind the orphanage, but there was no doubt about it that I would rather be at a home. It was wonderful, a home, parents and I even got to take Stacy with me, as my new sister.

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