Already Falling

It was not a building. You could hardly call it a building. It was more like a castle. But this was no fairytale. I peered out of the Volkswagen van window as it carried on up towards the castle. Vines grew over the castle making it look older and eerie. The bricks were wearing out and the grass was as well. A swing set and slide laid on the lawn, welcoming any visitors to play on them.

“This is it.” Mary-Anne, the social worker, said. She sat beside me as an old man drove the van up the driveway. I looked over at her and past her at the forest around us. This did not look like an orphanage. It looked like a juvenile delinquent center or a prison.

“I told Betty to meet us out here. She loves new kids.” the old man murmured. I looked out the window as the van came to a slow stop and the man crawled out, coming over to the door next to me and sliding it open. I tried to warm my hands in my mittens.

“Come on.” he said, grabbing my bag. I obeyed and crawled out into the misty and freezing cold air. I looked up at the castle once more and thought how Mike would’ve said it was haunted. My heart swelled at the thought and I looked away from Mary-Anne and the old man. I didn’t want to think about my family and it was possible I was out of tears from last night. I’d cry some more when I was in my room, if I got my own.

“Ah, there she is.” the old man said, motioning towards a short woman with graying hair and dark, warm brown eyes. She was hurrying towards us a huge smile on her face. Her smile did not falter as she stood in front of us and said,

“Hello, I’m Betty the caretaker. You are?”

She looked at me but I looked away and Mary-Anne said quickly, “This is Abigail. She’s going to be joining you today.”

“Oh! How wonderful!” Betty exclaimed, looking more jubilant than ever. My eyes followed the vines and how the had crawled up upon the castle. My sight caught a window where various children sat looking down at me, eyes wide. They were talking amongst themselves, probably asking who I was, or if I was new. I looked at all the windows and saw more and more children, some teenagers that look as if they were my age or younger.

Betty stared at me, them followed my gaze and looked angry.

“Go, go! Shoo! She’s not an animal! Shoo! Off to dinner, all of you!” she bellowed and all the children retreated quickly. She turned to me.

“I’m sorry, dear, they’re so curious. Those kids.” She shook her head, smiling. I didn’t bother returning the smile, I just glared at her and the scene around us. Mary-Anne was signing some papers and so was the old man. Probably agreeing to sell me over. After a few minutes, the put all the papers in the right place and Mary-Anne turned to me.

“Goodbye, Abigail. I’ll see you soon.” she said, hugging me. I didn’t returned the hug, because I didn’t know the woman nor like her. She pulled away, smiling, then turned and crawled back into the car.

“I’ll go take her back.” the old man said, going around to the back of the van and getting the rest of my bags and luggage. He set them in front of me before getting in the car and driving off with Mary-Anne. I grabbed my brown leather suitcase and my other tote bag. Betty grabbed my other two suitcases, lugging them towards the entrance, two grand wooden doors.

“It’s supper time.” she said as we stepped over the threshold. “All the kids are eating, would you like to join them?” She looked at me.

I shook my head.

“Well, you have to eat something.” she said, exasperated. I shook my head again. She set the luggage down and looked at me sternly.

“Go on down to the dining hall. I’ll take these up to your room and be there in the dining hall in a second.”

I didn’t want to argue so I set down my stuff and started walking down the right corridor.

“Third door on the left, can’t miss it.” she called. The castle was unusually warm. I stepped along down the stone floor towards the room she had directed me to. I didn’t want to be here. Simple as that. Voices stared filling the corridor as I neared the room. Were they singing? No, that’d be way too bizarre. Singing?

‘And she said to me, you old cat! You can’t have my hat!’ A guitar followed the sound of the singing. The voices belong to children, it sounded like a lot. I reached the door and peered inside. There were probably thirty or more round picnic tables where sat abandoned bowls of soup. Long rectangle windows sat upon the walls, showing the forest and the lake I passed by on my commute here. There were a lot children, gathered around one table where a ginger headed boy sat, strumming a guitar. The teenagers were laughing and singing as well. A tall dark boy saw me first and whispered something to a little girl, pointing to me. The little girl looked and gasped, whispering something to her friend.

Soon enough, the singing stopped and the guitar came to an abrupt halt. They were all staring at me.

“Hey.” the ginger said, getting off the table and walking over to me. I stood in front of him and stared at him. He was talking to me.

“You’re the new girl, right? Bets told us all about you. She said not to stare, that it was rude or something. We saw you earlier.” He had his guitar on his back.

“I’m Noah. Noah Evenett.” he held out his hand. My mother would’ve told me to not be rude and shake his dang hand. My mother…My heart swelled again. I felt the tears brimming my eyes. He stared at me. I looked down. He tried to look at my face.

“Hey…are you okay?” he asked, concern in his voice. I shook my head, in the process a tear slipped out.

“Where’s Betty? You need Betty.” he said, looking over my shoulder. He grabbed my hand and lead me out of the dining hall and into the corridor. He looked around and started walking down the hall.

“Betty!” he called.

“Yes? Noah-what did you do?” I heard Betty call.

“I didn’t do anything.” he said. “She doesn’t feel good. I think she may be ill.” he said.

I heard the scurrying of feet then a warm hand touched my shoulder.

“Oh, what’s wrong, honey?” she said, concern etched inside every word.

And for the first time in that day, I spoke. “My mother-” I sobbed. “She’s dead. They all are.”

“Oh, sweetie.” Betty said, bringing me into a hug and rubbing my back in comfort.

“It’s okay. Everything’s going to be alright.” she said. “Noah, you go on back to dinner. I’ll take her upstairs.”

“Is she going to be alright?” he asked. What do you care, I wanted to say but my throat was tight with sorrow.

“I-I can’t be sure.” and in a lower whisper she said, “She lost everybody, Noah, she needs time.”

“I want to stay with her.” Noah said, his voice sure of himself.

“Now, don’t be silly. Go back to dinner. And don’t go gossiping to the rest of the lot.” My tears fell continuously.

“Alright. Make sure she’s okay, though.” Noah said. “What’s her name? I have to know.”

“Abigail. Now shoo!” she said and I heard the retreating footsteps of Noah.

“Come on, honey. Your room’s just up here.” We started down the hall again. She lead me up a grand staircase and down another hall. We stopped in front of a door, which was painted a pale pink, matching the rest of the doors down the hall.

“This is the girls’ floor. Your rooms just in here.” She said opening the door and stepping inside. I walked ahead of her and examined the room. The room had one twin bed, the sheets were a pale pink, matching the door. The walls were painted a light lavender and there was a dresser, a bookcase, and a mirror that sat atop a desk. They were all mahogany wood. There was also a bay window with a perfect view of the lake. My suitcases and belongings sat at the foot of the bed.

“Do you play piano?” Betty asked suddenly. I turned to her.

“How did you know?” I asked quietly, running my hand over the sheets of the bed, taking in the softness and comforting feel of them.

“Your social worker, Mary-Anne, told me.” she explained.

“Yes, I do.” I said, turning my back to her.

“Well, there a music room, just down the hall on the first floor. It has trumpets, guitars, pianos, and even a banjo!” she said excitedly.

“Maybe I’ll look at it later.” I said. “But right now, I need rest.”

“Oh, yes, of course!” Betty said, turning and starting out of the room.

“Betty,” I called. She turned to me with a look that said, ‘yes?’. “Thank you.”

She smiled and nodded, leaving the room, the door closing with a click behind her.