Status: Being Written (:
She Was Just a Little Girl
Chapter 3
She went back to the home, thinking about what exactly she needed to do. She walked through the front doors. This place had some bad memories. Bad memories that kept her awake at night. Not the bad memory, but too close for comfort. People here. They weren’t the people they always seemed to be. Mr. Hesner for example. The janitor or whatever you want to call him. She learned when to tell if he was in one of his moods. Once, she had picked up a few things, trying to help him out, and he had exploded, saying he didn’t need “ no good for nothing orphan” to help him do his job and then he slapped her. He slapped her right across the face. Then made her promise not to tell. That was no problem for her. She was already carrying too many secrets.
Ms. Pam, the lady in charge of Ella’s section of the home, liked to pretend she was a nice lady. She liked to put on a good show for everyone, but Ella never was quite fooled. She never trusted her. Ms. Pam had a friend she visited every night, while the others were asleep. He was locked away in a cabinet where no one else could find him. He went by the name of Jim Beam. And when Ms. Pam was with her friend, she was never quite right. Ella unfortunately caught her one night. She gained another secret and a few more bruises.
Ella’s life was hard, but she would never admit that. She would never let anyone see her struggle. She would learn later that she got that from her father. She was always a fighter and maybe that’s why she was the last one. Her mother, her father, her brother. All dead. Her aunt, her uncle. Dead. She was the last one. The one to figure it out. The one to save them all.
She didn’t know how or even where to start. She didn’t even see the men’s faces. She didn’t hear their voices. All she saw were their shoes and some footprints. She had nothing left from that place. She had nothing to go on. She was lost and confused, but mostly, she missed her brother. He would know what to do. He always did. But he was gone now. And somehow, she felt that she owed this to him. Figuring this out. She no longer hated her brother, or resented him. She understood. He wasn’t as strong as she was, no matter what he pretended to be. He got their mother’s genes.
Her parents. Well, Ella figured that was as good a place as any to start. In all honesty, she didn’t even really know who her parents were. She was six years old on that dreadful night. Plus, her parents had always been the closed in types, rarely saying “I love you” or showing affection. Not to say they were bad parents, because they definitely weren’t. Ella loved her parents. She just sometimes had no idea who they were.
Ms. Pam, the lady in charge of Ella’s section of the home, liked to pretend she was a nice lady. She liked to put on a good show for everyone, but Ella never was quite fooled. She never trusted her. Ms. Pam had a friend she visited every night, while the others were asleep. He was locked away in a cabinet where no one else could find him. He went by the name of Jim Beam. And when Ms. Pam was with her friend, she was never quite right. Ella unfortunately caught her one night. She gained another secret and a few more bruises.
Ella’s life was hard, but she would never admit that. She would never let anyone see her struggle. She would learn later that she got that from her father. She was always a fighter and maybe that’s why she was the last one. Her mother, her father, her brother. All dead. Her aunt, her uncle. Dead. She was the last one. The one to figure it out. The one to save them all.
She didn’t know how or even where to start. She didn’t even see the men’s faces. She didn’t hear their voices. All she saw were their shoes and some footprints. She had nothing left from that place. She had nothing to go on. She was lost and confused, but mostly, she missed her brother. He would know what to do. He always did. But he was gone now. And somehow, she felt that she owed this to him. Figuring this out. She no longer hated her brother, or resented him. She understood. He wasn’t as strong as she was, no matter what he pretended to be. He got their mother’s genes.
Her parents. Well, Ella figured that was as good a place as any to start. In all honesty, she didn’t even really know who her parents were. She was six years old on that dreadful night. Plus, her parents had always been the closed in types, rarely saying “I love you” or showing affection. Not to say they were bad parents, because they definitely weren’t. Ella loved her parents. She just sometimes had no idea who they were.
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