Always hide things.

That was a personal and unsaid rule among orphans. If you ever found anything worth saving, you hid it so you are the only one who knows about it.

I remember giving in and letting another little boy have some really good crackers I found. The boy later threatened to tell on me if I didn't hand them all over.

So I preemptively hid the photo in my pants as I snuck back into the old building, unnoticed. I quickly went up the stairs to one of the bedrooms that I shared with five other girls. I placed the photo behind a moveable wood panel in the wall behind my bed. I had other necessities hid there too, including a knife I found a few months ago. I thought it was best to be prepared for anything.

I could hear voices downstairs and figured there must have been something going on that I didn't know about it. It was still hours until dinner.

I quietly made my way down the old steps, mindful of the boards that creaked. I had to act as a mouse to stay undetected from them all so I didn't attract attention. That was something I didn't seek out.

". . . with this new policy in place, all of the children here will have a chance at being accepted into the program."

I only caught the tail-end of the conversation. When I walked into the room, I saw two men standing in the living space. They were unlike the other adults here; these two wore nice and pristine suits of darker colors, and they seemed well-kept. Almost too perfect. Were they from the city that I had heard about and seen pictures of?

There was an awed silence, with kids around my age draped around the place listening, and then there were the stunned faces of the three caretakers. What had they been talking about? What 'program?'

"This . . . this is a lot to take in," Miss Camila spoke, tears pooling in her glistening eyes. I was confused by this; why was she crying? Was she sad about whatever the fancy men were talking about?

I had a feeling that this program was bad.

"We understand," the man with red hair nodded, talking properly. I couldn't help but find his voice really nice to listen to. "You've all been living so cramped together, and with little help. I'm sure this will be a huge change to your lives - a good change."

I blinked rapidly at that, realizing that what he said made everyone feel happier; it was in their expressions. I wasn't convinced, but that could be because I missed out on hearing what it was about.

"Yes, thank you so much for coming here!" Miss Camila spoke once again before Ms. Betty could say anything, but I could tell the dark-haired woman was thinking heavily about it. Her dark eyebrows were always drawn into her hooded eyes when she was thinking that something wasn't right.

The same man smiled and nodded, seeming genuine. "Do we have your permission to take a look around the establishment?"

"Yes, of course! Please make yourselves at home." This time it was Mrs. Hamel that spoke, seeming delighted, but not ecstatic like the younger lady. She left for the kitchen, probably to give the newcomers some space.

I watched as many of the younger kids went up to the two instantly, much to Ms. Betty's displeasure. I could tell by the frown on her face. I looked around and saw the two other older kids staying back a bit and talking; I wished I was closer so I could overhear what they were saying . . .

I felt a poke in my shoulder and turned around to see Jadenal's smiling face. His olive-toned skin seemed to shine under the artificial lighting and his dark brown hair was in wild curls - looks like Miss Camila missed combing through it. "Hey, you missed the big entry." His voice was foreign-sounding, but he was really good at speaking the same language as us.

"What entry was that?" I asked, unable to help from smiling back at his happy expression. I knew he was happy because his dimples always showed when he smiled wide like that.

He shook his head, and I watched in fascination as his curls bounced around on top of his head. "Those two men came in, apparently Mrs. Hamel had been expecting them, and called all of us in here. They gave everyone good news of new homes for us all and started talking about a government-funded project."

I raised a brow at this, feeling even more suspicious about all this.

He shrugged at my look and kept going. "Apparently we all have a chance at being adopted out into foster homes, or by a larger group home that will help raise us," he make quotation marks with his fingers, "'into proud, respectable adults of society.' Reigi's idea, not mine."

"Reigi?"

"The guy who did all the talking before, the one with red hair." I looked back at the two men, noticing how the "Reigi" guy had a smile as he talked with the kids while the other one - the burly, darker one - stood stoic. It was slightly intimidating.

Jadenal continued before I turned back to look at him, "He also said that their group would be partnering with us and helping to fund us for now, while we still live here."

"But why?" I found myself asking before I could think about it more.

"Huh?" Jadenal blinked dark brown eyes at me.

"Why are they just now helping us? What's in it for them?" I questioned more, feeling the way Ms. Betty looked.

"Eh . . . I'm not really sure, just to help us is what he kept saying." He scratched his head as if he didn't give it as much thought as me. That was okay; Jadenal was sweet and ignorant to most harsh things in life. It's why I envied him.

I patted his head to soothe him, and he grinned - showing how young he was. He still had a chance; he was only six. "You should go talk to him then."

"What about you?" His voice was small, and I smiled to soothe him.

"I'm just going to wait here for now."

"Okay, but you should talk to them too. They could help you, ya know?" He studied me when I didn't say anything, and sighed. "I know you don't want to be adopted, but everyone wants a family."

I grimaced at that, my hand tightening around my wrist as if feeling the stinging pain all over again. The only 'family' I'd had wasn't the kind I would want to wish on anyone.

He offered a smile, and patted my head in return before leaving to join the other kids. I watched as he easily mingled and gained the attention of the Reigi guy, and I couldn't help but smile for him. He was good at learning new things, usually kept his nose in books more than me. He was smart and unique; he would make a family happy.

I walked over to one of the book cases leading to the dining area in the hallway and leaned against it. This was one of my spots in the house where I came to think. Most kids besides Jaeenal didn't read a lot in their free time, so I normally had this spot to myself.

At the worse times I was reminded of where I came from. It wasn't a happy place. I still remember it well. I just tried to put it behind me. I still felt the physical lashes as much as the inside ones. If I thought too hard, it would become unbearable. I remember when I first met Mrs. Hamel and how damaged she found me. The only thing I couldn't remember was how I ended up at her orphanage. As far as I knew, there was no escaping where I came from. They bound me so deeply that I believed I belonged there.

I scratched at my wrists as I felt my mind spiraling back into the past. I felt lightheaded because I didn't want to breathe right, and my skin pricked like hundreds of barb wires were caressing my skin. I felt sick, and wanted to run away from the memories I still had. Of being told I was a demon, that I shouldn't have been born, that I was worthless . . .

"Hello?"

I gasped at the sudden voice, and my body jerked violently as my head swiveled up to the voice. My heart pounded in my chest when I saw the redheaded man before me. He looked concerned, but I stayed still.

"Are you all right?" His rich voice drawled, "I'm sorry if I surprised you, I just noticed you and wanted to say hi."

He noticed me? My brows pulled together at that.

When I didn't say anything, he continued. "So what's your name?" he asked as he squatted down to my level. "I noticed you weren't hanging around the other kids."

I studied him, debating whether or not to even answer him, but I knew I would hear it from Ms. Betty later for not being polite. "My name is Cecelia." I answered, and his lips tilted up.

"Cecelia . . ." He took extra time to carefully pronounce it, and it sounded somehow beautiful when he said it. "That's a pretty name. How old are you?"

"Eight."

"Why aren't you hanging out with the other kids?"

He seemed determined to get more out of me. I'd never encountered such persistence. Most people didn't bother with me.

I shrugged, looking away. "I prefer to be by myself."

"Now that's not true." His words made me look at him again. "No one really likes to be all alone." His amber eyes glinted knowingly and a smirk marred his smooth face. "Now tell me the real reason why."

I didn't know why, but I felt cornered, like he already knew how I was. I didn't like it. "I don't fit in."

"Ah-hah! There it is," he pointed and seemed giddy as if he won something. "You feel like the outcast, right? Is it because you're one of the oldest ones here?"

I felt uncomfortable and fidgeted, but he caught on to it with a flash of his unnerving amber eyes.

"Or is there another reason why? C'mon, you can talk to me Cecelia."

I swallowed, feeling my throat run dry and my stomach started to twist with rumblings of something bad. I clutched the ripped fabric at the end of my shirt as a way to try and distract myself. My hair fell around me as a curtain - I just wanted to be closed-off.

He also seemed to notice this, and immediately his demeanor changed to one of apology. "I'm sorry, I'm making you uncomfortable, aren't I? I just feel so strongly because I want to help you the most."

His confession made my eyes widen in disbelief, and I stared at him as if he were an entirely different person. "I don't need help." I spoke this, feeling wary once more.

He looked downcast by this, but he still spoke strongly. "That's okay, I still want to try, though. I don't know what you've been through, but I can help you. Whatever you would like, I can get it for you."

Was he actually speaking the truth? Why would he say such a thing? "I don't understand."

He smiled, revealing straight white teeth, and he stood back up to his full height, towering above me. "Like I said, I just want to help you. You'll come to know soon that I'm a pretty nice guy."

"Reigi!"

We both turned to the burly sound of the other man at the doorway in the other room.

"Just a minute!" Reigi yelled back to him, but looked down at me. "I hope you can open up to me someday, but until then," He tipped the hat he wore, staring kindly at me. "See you later, Cecelia."

I watched him go, his boots clanking against the wooden floorboards. It was silent then. I was left alone in the dusty hallway filled with books.

What a strange man, I thought as I stared across the hall. His persistence was odd. Why did he go out of his way to find me and talk with me?

* * *

I woke up to the sound of rain and had that sinking feeling that today was going to be no good.

"Cecelia!" I heard a harsh whisper, and I poked my head up from my pillow to see Miss Camila standing in the doorframe. Her form was a curvy silhouette cast by the light behind her.

"Leaks?" I whispered back. When she nodded I had to hold back a groan. Great.

There were sleepy groans as I got out of bed and moved around the sleeping bodies of the girls in the room; I had to be careful not to wake them. When I reached the doorway, Miss Camila grabbed my hand and guided me to the spots needing fixed.

The building really needed repairs because when it rains the roof leaks in different places each time. I usually have to help the caretakers, and the two eldest kids, plug them up before morning starts for the rest of the house.

Miss Camila's pretty blonde hair was put up in a messy bun - she must have been up for a while without first having her coffee. She and Ms. Betty always drank that stuff, though Mrs. Hamel always preferred tea.

I saw Marcus, the second eldest boy, helping Ms. Betty plug up the leaks in the living room area. Miss Camila stopped in the kitchen where some were, and I went around putting extra buckets under them.

"I woke up to a water bed," Miss Camila laughed as she climbed the step stool to plug one leak up. "It was a rude awakening, haha."

I smiled at that, it was always fun to listen to Miss Camila.

After getting the kitchen leaks taken care of, I was instructed to go with Marcus to find Mrs. Hamel in the attic.

The walk with the taller eight-year-old was silent as we trekked up the stairs to where the attic space was. Marcus was pretty quiet, usually following directly under Elias, the oldest at nine.

"You know . . . we'll probably be shipped into the new program." Came his quiet murmur, and I looked at him. His black hair was shaggy - he liked to keep it longer than most boys.

"What?" I asked, not sure what he was getting at. Could he be talking about what Reigi was discussing?

A dark green eye looked at me before looking away again. "We won't be adopted out by families like he said."

For some reason that struck at me like cold ice hitting my bare chest. I shivered as if I really had been, and my mind was more awake. If we are not adopted by families, then who or what will be adopting us?

My thoughts were on the subject as we found Mrs. Hamel and Elias fixing the leaks in the highest ceiling.

"Oh!" The elderly Mrs. Hamel spoke when seeing us. "Cecelia, dear, do you think you could fit through here to plug up where the water is coming from?"

When she asked, I nodded and went to her, taking the firm plug that she handed me.

"It's just through here, where that ol' dusty air conditioner used to be."

I nodded again, and peered at the tight space as she helped me up into it. I was able to squeeze in because of my smaller size, and squinted to see where the hole could be. I was getting soaked from the water pouring in and in the distance I could hear thunder quaking. I shivered again, and searched where to put the plug to stop the leak.

It was at times like these that I wondered why I was so compliant. Why did I obey the orders given to me? Was it out of respect for what the caretakers have done to help me?

Through a small crack I was able to see the outside. I saw dark clouds all around and how they lit up in the distance from lightning. It was so devastatingly beautiful that the questioning thoughts grew worse. Why was I born? What purpose do I have? Is it really to be stuck here at this orphanage?

"Cecelia?" At her call, I moved swiftly to plug up the leak and then wormed my way backwards to get out of the tight space.

Elias threw a towel at me and I barely managed to catch it as Mrs. Hamel patted me down.

"Good work, thank you for doing that for me." She said, and I smiled.

"You're welcome," I spoke, using my manners, and I heard Elias snicker.

I ignored him and started wiping my face clean - trying my best to dry off as we exited the cold, damp attic space. I felt bad. Mrs. Hamel's personal belongings were kept up here.

I didn't have to worry about my wet clothes because Miss Camila caught me and helped change me into new ones. They must have gotten lucky with the donation drive last week.

I had to help sort through food with Ms. Betty as the others cooked the small portion for breakfast. It looked like we would be skipping meals again this week . . .

"What is the count?" Ms. Betty asked me, clipboard in hand.

"Ten beans, six corn, and eleven carrot." I counted off the cans.

I didn't have to look to know she was grimacing. "Any fruit?"

I looked, only finding one beat-up can. "Only one."

I heard her annoyed sigh and glanced at her to see the older woman pulling at her long black braid. "Looks like only the toddlers and babies will be getting fruit this week."

I looked down at that, all of us - me included - really liked fruit. It was such a rarity to get it.

"Let's check the oats," she said, and I hopped up to get the tall cans to check.

It would be a short inventory this week.

* * *

I stared out at the rain from the window seat at the back of the house. I wouldn't be able to go out today - and I really hoped the shipyard didn't flood.

Since I was alone, I took out the picture I had brought home. I glanced at it from time to time when I wasn't gazing out into the storm. I hoped the music box and camera were okay . . .

Right now the younger kids would be taking a nap, and I didn't keep up with what Marcus and Elias did in their free time.

What plagued me this morning was plaguing me again. What was life? Why was I born when the ones who were suppose to be my family condemned me? Just like the others here, they didn't want me.

But it was more than that. They wanted me dead; they said I was a curse.

I have no purpose. I don't even know what there is to life.

From books, I know that once you become an adult you're supposed to work for society. You build your status up and become recognized, that way you can live comfortably. That way of living seemed so pointless though; why are we here?

The more I questioned my existence, the more my head hurt. Sometimes tears would escape, and then I would feel a calmness as if something was telling me to stop thinking that way.

I felt empty, and I wanted a change.

I stared back at the photo, trying to hold on to the strange calmness that came over me. I really wanted to be at the ship, away from these thoughts.

Something flickered in the photo and I blinked a little at it. Was I just seeing things now? My eyes felt too tight, and I rubbed at them when I saw white lights swimming in my vision. I gazed at the photo again, and it seemed to grow bigger.

My heart beat faster, and chest felt heavy. As I leaned closer to the photo, the white lights blinded me and I saw nothing more.

.....................................

Hope to hear from you in the comments! This is a slow-build story where I want to aim at really fleshing out these characters.