22 years ago

(Aspen is 7 years old, 6 months into living in Orphanage)

They say all humans are born with a clean slate, its everything they do after that form who they are. But not me, not my family line. I was born with a curse, and from what I understand it basically means I'm bad luck.

Being branded as bad luck is never good, especially if you're staying in a gray lifeless orphanage with hundreds of other kids. It's not that all the kids are bad, in fact, most are okay. Most like me are waiting out our time here, distracting ourselves with reading whatever we can find and so on.

But there are few that aren't like us. There usually the kids that have stayed here the longest, and so they pray on us. As if life wasn't rough already...

Buzzzzzz

That sound

I slowly turn my head, eyes void of any emotion as I stare at the mosquito flying about in the abnormally gray room. I suppose it too was fighting to live in the worst of circumstances.

The room could be described by one word: toxic.

The room bred chaos, having been filled with what seemed like hundreds of old mattresses, one too many kids and no adult supervision. Some kids lay on the mattresses, as if in pain while most ran about. Breaking everything they could get there hands on.

I felt a sinking feeling catch in my throat as I looked at all the broken faces of the children around me, did I look like that?

I longed for a mirror, to see what was left of me after that night.

At the thought of the that night, a sudden flash of my family's old car crashing into a tree flew through my mind, the sight...the smell of the blood making its way to me as I clung onto consciousness to reach for my mother's hand.

Just to grab it....just for her to tell me it's okay...mother reassure me...mother hug me...mother I...I'm scared...

Upon reaching her hand the smile of achievement quickly fades away, it's not the same. It doesn't fill me with a feeling of warmth, and she doesn't tell me that it's going to be okay. No, it's cold...shes cold.

My father, he must be different. Father and mother are both strong, but even so, father must have made it. If he doesn't will I be alone...

I shake the thought from my head as I slowly lift my bloodied arm and reach for my father, vision blurring as I do, "f-father"

Is that my voice? Why does it sound that way?

It sounds like death

I reach his arm, but the wave of calmness doesn't last for long as I realize he, like my mother, is cold. I reach for him once more but instead, grasp onto a golden pocket chain that had once laid in his pocket.

Slowly, my frail fingers pull it closer to me to stare at it. The gold of it shimmers due to the small streams of sunlight that finds its way down onto me. It too is cold.

This coldness hasn't left me since that death, and because of what happened I have been placed into an orphanage. I wonder if I will be able to get out if I can just get up...

If I can push myself enough to try

A lone tear slips down my cheek as I slowly push myself up and off the mattress I had been laying on. Pain flashes through my brain as I gasp my arm. It hurts, it hurts it hurts it hurts

I hear someone calling my name, yet the ringing in my ear continues to get louder as I stare at the cracked gray wall.

"Aspen? There's someone here to see you" The voice calls out again, this time I can hear them. I wait a moment for the ringing to stop, one hand holding my head  while the other grasps onto my arm.

Someone to see me?

That cant be true. Mother and father are gone, there's nobody else. Nobody in my family is alive. I'm the last Reynolds left.

A joke, this must be a cruel joke.

Another tear rolls down my cheeks as I lean against the frame of the wall, this is a cruel world. A cruel cruel world.

I feel an arm shake my shoulder, and pull me away from the wall. My minds still blank. I open my mouth in an attempt to ask where I am going, but only a small growl escapes so I shut it quickly.

The woman dragging me doesn't seem to mind however. She's still facing forward, her grip on my arm light as if she were scared of shattering what was left of me.

The woman was a nun and had on the usual attire: black robe and a small silver cross around her neck. The orphanage wasn't a church organization from what I had seen, but even so many nuns volunteered here as an attempt to help us. But there talk about god did nothing but sour my spirits. If there was a god, then why would he let this curse happen, why would he take away my parents?

We came to an abrupt halt outside a large set of wooden double doors, with glass windows on each. Peering into the room I see a woman in a yellow dress speaking to people I had never seen before. But by how they dressed I could tell they meant serious. Confused, I turn back to the nun, watching as she bends down to my eye level, the scent of daffodils swirling throughout the air.

The nun gives me a sad, knowing smile as she fixes my shirt.

Silence fills the air for a moment before she speaks out, "Aspen, your aunt is here to get you okay? She is going to make sure you have a good life. Better than the one you would get here."

I don't say anything as she continues to stare at me. I know well enough that I don't have an aunt. My mother and father were both only children, and none of my blood relatives are living anymore. That I was sure off.

The woman shifts, catching my attention as she pulls out the familiar gold pocket watch that I had grabbed from my father during the accident. Is this where it had been all this time? How had she even gotten it?

"I hope you don't mind, it was a little dirty. But it should be all clean now." The woman places it in my hand, which I quickly shove into my pocket. It had been important to my father, so therefore it will be important to me.

She continues to stare at me, as if almost wanting something. My eyebrows furrow in confusion before I manage to muster up a small smile for her, but quickly stop when I realize how strange it must look. The nun turns, satisfied as she opens the door.

Standing in the room is a few people in business suits along with the women wearing a yellow flower dress. Curly brown strands of hair cup her porcelain face as she walks towards me, a delicate smile forming on her cherry red lips, "My dear nephew. I was so worried."

I stay quiet as she hugs me, almost frozen in place, how am I supposed to hug a stranger?

She turns back to the nuns, "Thank you so much sisters, I was so worried about him after not hearing back from my brother. I'm so glad I have him now though, thank you all."

The woman grabs my hand and a familiar sense of warmth spreads throughout my body. Was it because of her? Or was it just because not many people had touched me since my parent's died?

I shake the thoughts from my mind, whatever it was it didn't matter.

The two of us walk out of the building in silence and continue to walk until we reach an old yellow truck at the end of the street. She stops in front of it and opens the passenger door before going to her own. Flashes of the accident cross my mind, quietly I take a few steps back.

"What? Come on kid, get in. It's a long enough drive to the house." She lets out a sigh at my resistance.

I stand still, eyes wide as I shake my head coughing out a single word, "n-no."

The women stares at me, a frown forming on her face as she lets out a sigh, "Just sit here with me then, in the car. Let's take it slow."

I close my eyes and lift myself up into the passenger seat of the truck, sliding the seatbelt over my fragile frame. I won't die, it will be okay, right?

My mother's voice seems to ring throughout my mind, 'Make us proud Aspen, we love you always'

The two of us sit there in silence, and I'm awfully aware that the women is watching me. It creeps me out, being in the car with someone I just met. But wouldn't anything be better than the orphanage?

"I'm Katie by the way, I guess you can say my job is to save people like you. Not just the ones in the orphanage, but the ones with the curse" she speaks out softly as she starts the car.

The word curse sparks my curiosity. How could she know I had it? How did she even find me? The more I looked at Katie the more of a mystery she was.

"Aspen" my voice is quiet, whisper-like, yet with one glance I'm able to see she has heard me, there's a smile on her face now.

"Let's go Aspen," Katie says, turning on the radio as we drive down the streets and away from the dreary Orphanage, "This place will be your new home. You'll be happy here, I hope."

The word 'home' fills me with a bittersweet feeling, and the need to cry comes over me in that moment. Could it ever be home?