My Days As An Orphan"Natasha,...Does it hurt?" Said the boy on the bed next to me. I looked down to my hands, there wasn't really much to see since the lights were out, but I could feel the wounds and the torn skin.It was hard looking him back in the eyes. I don't remember his name really, but I do remember his voice and kind gestures towards me. The orphanage was to small for so many children, everyone knew each other. How couldn't we? We were all we had. That we didn't had toys never bothered me, because I always made new friends and found a way to play. We were kids, imagination of little ones is always bigger than you can remember now that you've grown up. But the food was horrible. I refused to eat. The only thing we got was one meal in the late afternoon and milk with bread in the morning. Those who didn't eat went hungry to bed. Which was me most of the time. If you only dared to stick up for it, or you wanted something else; you had to bring out your hands on the table and the nanny gave you ten hits with her ruler. "No" I answered to him. That's what I always answered."Let's go back to sleep."
Back then I had an impulse to stay strong for everyone. For me, for him, for the other children. But all together, it wasn't that bad. Yes, the food was downright disgusting, the nanny's were mean people and more then 1 outfit of clothes each was all we had, but... I made friends, I smiled with them, laughed with them, cried, ate, played, got sick and more. I wasn't alone. So when some of them desired to run away, I agreed. The stupid thing was, was that we did that at the end of autumn begin winter. And go outside on winters in Russia without proper care: Your done for. I think it took us a week or more to get to Moscow. That's where we roamed around the streets. That boy passed away that winter, and another one was hit by a car. Eventually people seemed to notice our stealing of food and hiding in old buildings, so we were found. Apparently my sister was looking for me, I was brought in her care. OH! stupid me... I didn't tell how I got into the orphanage in the first place. Well, my parents didn't live together. They were both in their 30ties. Already married and divorced ones, they didn't want another child. But somehow it just happened. My father lived in Amsterdam so he never knew my mother was pregnant. She never told anyone and died on my birth. And after being given to strange people back and forth by her family who didn't have a place for me in their life's, I was placed into the orphanage. Where I was met to stay forever.
NatashaBluerain 22-25, F 1 Response 3 Sep 4, 2012