Destined
Diary excerpts of orphanage nurse
October 11, 1994
Another girl came in today. She is 5 years old, but as vicious as a bear. Out of the four men entitled to bringing her here to the orphanage, one guard ended up unconscious and another near death from loss of blood. I already fear for her future.
_________________
October 23, 1994
Concerning the girl, she is obviously one of a kind, but I highly doubt that is a good thing. She remains nameless, having not found her records yet. She does not speak and has kept to herself. The only reaction we could obtain was the constant attempts to escape. Between these moments, she is little more than a stone statue.
___________________
November 15, 1994
Ryn has taken an immediate interest in the girl during his monthly visit to the orphanage, and has come to see her on numerous occasions. He would take her to the only gathering of trees on the orphanage, or to one of the private rooms or once, he even took her to see a movie. He seems the only person who can get a reaction out of her that does not fall under the category of hatred. Whereas others have been frightened of and avoided Ryn simply because he looked at them once, the girl seemed to have almost befriended the 16 years old boy. I only wish she has better taste in friends. Everything around Ryn never has a happy ending.
___________________
December 31, 1994
The girl has finally spoken. Unfortunately, it is not to other young girls as I had hoped, but to just Ryn and me. As for Ryn, she might have talked to him since his first arrival, but today, she has finally spoken to me without a face of loathing. It happened during the short meetings that we have with the children, which resemble psychiatric meetings ironically. For the first time, I was the only listener, as the manager and his assistants have given up on interrogating the girl and her past. This, I believe, was what she was waiting for. When I had asked her the routine question of how she is feeling, she had slowly opened her lips and murmured, “My parents were tortured and torn to pieces in front of me. I don’t feel very happy.” After the initial shock, I quickly recovered and asked her more questions, not wanting to push her too much. Some she answered, most she didn’t. I quickly learnt that for such a young girl, she speaks and acts much like an adult. I cannot help wondering what happened to her childhood. And if she ever had one.
__________________________________________________________________
“Happy Birthday, Sunny!”
“What’s this?”
“It’s a diamond! We were looking for stones outside during class today, and I found it under this huge piece of rock. I brushed it up a bit and found this!”
“Thank-you, but isn’t diamonds usually for ladies?”
“Yeah, but it reminded me too much of you; finding a precious friend in the least expected place.”
“You think of me as a friend?”
“Sure. My first actual friend. It’s nice saying that. My firstest friend.”
A pause.
“You’re my first friend too.”
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
January 17, 1995
Today, we talked about Ryn, a subject I have been impatiently waiting for. She seemed fairly fine with this topic, although she became quickly on edge at a few specific questions. My first question was what she thought of Ryn. She said, “Sunny is like me.” She stopped, and then smiled. I was shocked. She never smiled unless she was with Ryn. “Do you know what he said to me the first time we met?” I shook my head, anxiously waiting for the response.
“He said, ‘I can always tell the fighters by the look in their eyes.’ What I hadn’t told him was that I saw that exact look in his own eyes.”
I nodded, thinking of the dense, cold aura of that boy that never fails to freeze all conversation.
Continuing the conversation, I had asked why she had befriended Ryn. She had replied after a pause, “Sunny isn’t scared of me, nor is he sorry for my situation.” I was baffled at this answer. It was strange, hearing that being said by a 5 years old girl. How many children can give a response like that?
I remember, at one point, I had asked why she called him Sunny. Ever since I heard that nickname, I wondered how it came about. If there ever was a person most unsuitable for that name, it was the cold-hearted poker-faced Ryn. The girl had simply blinked at me, as if she couldn’t comprehend why I didn’t know.
“Because his eyes light up like the Sun when he laughs.”
I admit; I do believe I sat there stunned for minutes. None of the staff has ever seen even a semblance of a smile on that boy’s face. They all simply assumed that such a happy innocent gesture was beyond the capabilities of him. It was almost ironic that the cold emotionless teenager only laughs while with the cold emotionless child. The world works in strange ways, and this girl has shown me just how impossible it can be.
At the end of our meeting, I had asked her usual question of whether she wanted to tell me anything. She sat there, like a stone, for seconds, before finally opening her mouth.
“This remains confidential, right?”
“Yes. I will not repeat anything you say to me unless it involves hurting yourself or others.”
She nodded. Seconds went by before she finally began in a low, cautious voice. “When Ryn took me to see a movie…we passed a black car and large men with a boy…”
“Yes,” I asked, urging her on.
“They were trying to shove the boy in.”
I swallowed, knowing exactly what happened and hating that I knew. I opened my mouth to form some sort of answer, maybe a reassurance that it would not happen to her, that the boy is okay, even if they were all lies, just anything…but she continued to talk, not finished yet.
“He looked at me. And…and he had the same eyes as Ryn. As me. He was the same as us.” She broke off, her jaw clenched and her eyes digging into the corner of the wooden desk. “He said…screamed that they would try to break me too, to change me into something worse. That they would kill me over and over again until they are satisfied. And all because my family was killed by them, and I survived.”
I did not breathe, could not breathe. But I still felt my lips move. “Who’s them?”
She leaned closer, her vivid violet eyes staring at me with more intensity than I could stand.
“Vampires.”
Another girl came in today. She is 5 years old, but as vicious as a bear. Out of the four men entitled to bringing her here to the orphanage, one guard ended up unconscious and another near death from loss of blood. I already fear for her future.
_________________
October 23, 1994
Concerning the girl, she is obviously one of a kind, but I highly doubt that is a good thing. She remains nameless, having not found her records yet. She does not speak and has kept to herself. The only reaction we could obtain was the constant attempts to escape. Between these moments, she is little more than a stone statue.
___________________
November 15, 1994
Ryn has taken an immediate interest in the girl during his monthly visit to the orphanage, and has come to see her on numerous occasions. He would take her to the only gathering of trees on the orphanage, or to one of the private rooms or once, he even took her to see a movie. He seems the only person who can get a reaction out of her that does not fall under the category of hatred. Whereas others have been frightened of and avoided Ryn simply because he looked at them once, the girl seemed to have almost befriended the 16 years old boy. I only wish she has better taste in friends. Everything around Ryn never has a happy ending.
___________________
December 31, 1994
The girl has finally spoken. Unfortunately, it is not to other young girls as I had hoped, but to just Ryn and me. As for Ryn, she might have talked to him since his first arrival, but today, she has finally spoken to me without a face of loathing. It happened during the short meetings that we have with the children, which resemble psychiatric meetings ironically. For the first time, I was the only listener, as the manager and his assistants have given up on interrogating the girl and her past. This, I believe, was what she was waiting for. When I had asked her the routine question of how she is feeling, she had slowly opened her lips and murmured, “My parents were tortured and torn to pieces in front of me. I don’t feel very happy.” After the initial shock, I quickly recovered and asked her more questions, not wanting to push her too much. Some she answered, most she didn’t. I quickly learnt that for such a young girl, she speaks and acts much like an adult. I cannot help wondering what happened to her childhood. And if she ever had one.
__________________________________________________________________
“Happy Birthday, Sunny!”
“What’s this?”
“It’s a diamond! We were looking for stones outside during class today, and I found it under this huge piece of rock. I brushed it up a bit and found this!”
“Thank-you, but isn’t diamonds usually for ladies?”
“Yeah, but it reminded me too much of you; finding a precious friend in the least expected place.”
“You think of me as a friend?”
“Sure. My first actual friend. It’s nice saying that. My firstest friend.”
A pause.
“You’re my first friend too.”
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
January 17, 1995
Today, we talked about Ryn, a subject I have been impatiently waiting for. She seemed fairly fine with this topic, although she became quickly on edge at a few specific questions. My first question was what she thought of Ryn. She said, “Sunny is like me.” She stopped, and then smiled. I was shocked. She never smiled unless she was with Ryn. “Do you know what he said to me the first time we met?” I shook my head, anxiously waiting for the response.
“He said, ‘I can always tell the fighters by the look in their eyes.’ What I hadn’t told him was that I saw that exact look in his own eyes.”
I nodded, thinking of the dense, cold aura of that boy that never fails to freeze all conversation.
Continuing the conversation, I had asked why she had befriended Ryn. She had replied after a pause, “Sunny isn’t scared of me, nor is he sorry for my situation.” I was baffled at this answer. It was strange, hearing that being said by a 5 years old girl. How many children can give a response like that?
I remember, at one point, I had asked why she called him Sunny. Ever since I heard that nickname, I wondered how it came about. If there ever was a person most unsuitable for that name, it was the cold-hearted poker-faced Ryn. The girl had simply blinked at me, as if she couldn’t comprehend why I didn’t know.
“Because his eyes light up like the Sun when he laughs.”
I admit; I do believe I sat there stunned for minutes. None of the staff has ever seen even a semblance of a smile on that boy’s face. They all simply assumed that such a happy innocent gesture was beyond the capabilities of him. It was almost ironic that the cold emotionless teenager only laughs while with the cold emotionless child. The world works in strange ways, and this girl has shown me just how impossible it can be.
At the end of our meeting, I had asked her usual question of whether she wanted to tell me anything. She sat there, like a stone, for seconds, before finally opening her mouth.
“This remains confidential, right?”
“Yes. I will not repeat anything you say to me unless it involves hurting yourself or others.”
She nodded. Seconds went by before she finally began in a low, cautious voice. “When Ryn took me to see a movie…we passed a black car and large men with a boy…”
“Yes,” I asked, urging her on.
“They were trying to shove the boy in.”
I swallowed, knowing exactly what happened and hating that I knew. I opened my mouth to form some sort of answer, maybe a reassurance that it would not happen to her, that the boy is okay, even if they were all lies, just anything…but she continued to talk, not finished yet.
“He looked at me. And…and he had the same eyes as Ryn. As me. He was the same as us.” She broke off, her jaw clenched and her eyes digging into the corner of the wooden desk. “He said…screamed that they would try to break me too, to change me into something worse. That they would kill me over and over again until they are satisfied. And all because my family was killed by them, and I survived.”
I did not breathe, could not breathe. But I still felt my lips move. “Who’s them?”
She leaned closer, her vivid violet eyes staring at me with more intensity than I could stand.
“Vampires.”