Status: I'm gonna try for two updates a month. We'll see how that goes.

Is It A Crazy House or an Orphanage?

Wood Floors.

I’m a pathological liar. That’s part of the reason they sent me here. I can lie my way out of any situation, no matter the circumstances. It’s a blessing and a curse. The other reason I’m here is Coke. No, that’s not her real name, but for the safety of all of us she’ll be called either Coke or C.

I’m sitting on the floor of my new bedroom. It’s a wood floor. I hate wood floors. They’re always too cold in the winter. I hate being cold. But I don’t really feel like moving, not like there’s much to do yet anyway. The man who brought me here said Coke would be back soon, she just has to take some tests. He’s the first adult that I’ve ever heard actually call her Coke.

When we first got here he told us that we weren’t allowed to use our real names and that we’d either be referred to by a code name or the first letter of our name. I don’t have a code name yet, so for now I’m only H. It kind of sucks.

By now you’re probably wondering where “here” is, and I will tell you, eventually, but first I need to start by explaining something. I’m an orphan, so is Coke. That’s actually how we met, at an orphanage. Neither of us liked it there, so we made a break for it, and later got caught. But we didn’t stop there, oh no, we caused more chaos than you could ever imagine two eleven year old girls causing. So they sent us away to another orphanage, where another series of chaotic events took place, caused by none other than the infamous C and H. That cycle continued for a while, we’d get shipped away, cause trouble, and be shipped away again, until finally they couldn’t take it anymore, and we ended up here.

“I don’t get it,” I’d said when we first arrived, “Is it an orphanage or a crazy house?”

No one bothered answering, instead they just went on explaining what was going to happen to us here.

Wammy’s House is what it’s called, I think. Basically what’s going to happen is they’re going to try and mold us into being the best detectives in the entire world. That suits Coke perfectly, me… well not so much. Coke can figure out puzzles so quickly it’s amazing, I however take an extremely long time, but in the end I get it because of my never ending determination. The main reason they sent me here was because I’d already been through twenty different orphanages in the last 4 years of my life, that and I claimed to be emotionally attached to Coke.

So now here I am, sprawled out across the cold wood floor of my new bedroom. There’s a bed on my right and a bed on my left. Mine is on the right, Coke’s the left.

If Coke were here she’d be encouraging me to go downstairs and play with the other kids, instead of moping.

Sighing loudly, I give in and decide to go downstairs, coming to the conclusion that being social will be good for me, and if anything bad happens I can lie my way out.
By now I’ve realized that most of the kids here are really weird, weirder than me, which brings me back to my original question of whether it’s really and insane asylum or a home for unwanted children.

For instance, there’s a little boy with snow-white hair. He’s what, nine? He should not have snow-white hair. Or maybe he’s not nine, maybe he just looks nine, maybe he’s a midget fifty year old with amazing skin? Then again, if he was, why would he be in a children’s home?

And then there’s the red head kid. He’s playing with a PSP and has on orange goggles, yes you heard me, goggles. What the heck? Does he plan on going swimming in the middle of October, in his clothes? His clothes. Boy are they… different. Well it’s not that they’re different I mean his pants and his shirt are pretty normal; Skinny jeans and a long sleeved, black and white striped shirt. It’s just the jacket, the boots, the goggles, and the gloves that make him look weird. He has on this puffy jacket/vest thing that looks like someone chopped up a pair of ‘Uggs’ and sewed them into what was supposed to be a sleeveless hoodie. And he has on black, rubber rain boots and black leather gloves. Talk about weird.

But there’s a girl over in the corner near the red head. She seems nice, she’s eating a chocolate bar, and even though her outfit choice is kind of odd she still seems like someone I could get to know and maybe even like. She’s blonde and she has on a loose black shirt and loose bell bottom black pants.

I’m sitting on a couch, curled up, away from everyone else, and now I’m debating on whether or not to go talk to the blonde girl, but she beats me to it. And I fidget nervously as she crosses the room towards me.

“Hi,” She smiles.

Only I realize with a pang of horror that she’s actually a he.

“You’re new aren’t you?”

I’m still in shock here so I speak the first lie that comes to mind. “No hablo ingles.” And I get up off the couch and dash back up to the safety of my wood floored room.

“Have you been in here moping the whole time?” Coke sighs when she finally returns about an hour later.

See, told you she’d say it.

“No. I went downstairs.”

“Oh really, and what are the other kids like?” She asks taking a seat on her bed.

“Well one of them dresses like he belongs in a low budget anime, another one of them looks like a fifty year old midget with perfect skin, and then there’s the transvestite. That one scared me.”

“Um… interesting?” Coke says, an odd expression on her face.

“It scared me,” I whisper staring blankly up at the ceiling.

“It?”

“The tranny.”

“Oh come on I’m sure he… she… I’m sure they’re really nice!”

“That doesn’t change the fact that it scares me.”

“Well you can just stay away from… them.”

“It came and talked to me,” I admit.

“Oh really? And what did you do?”

“Said, ‘No hablo ingles’ and ran away,” I shrug.

Coke sighs loudly. “You need to work on your people skills.”

“You’re one to talk,” I mutter.

“Dinner will be ready soon,” Someone says from the doorway.

I scream and spring to my feet, ready to attack.

“Dear Jeebus! Its just Watari!” Coke explains trying to calm me.

“Watari?” I repeat confused. And then I look to the doorway where the old man from before, the one who explained why we were here, was standing.

“Yes, that’s his name,” Coke says abnormally slow. Then she turns her attention to ‘Watari’. “We’ll be ready in a minute.”

As soon as he walks away I turn to coke and whisper, “What if the tranny is there?”

She rolls her eyes and walks away, towards the stair case.

“No! Wait for me!”