Chapter 1: Broken

Broken – having been fractured or damaged and no longer in one-piece or in working order. Rejected, defeated, or despairing.

I suppose that I was very much broken. Other people considered me to be broken, too.

I live with a heavy handful of regrets, and time and time again I have wanted to turn back the hours, the days, the months, the years, just so I could go back and do something to rectify those regrets. I had just simply stood there, as the man with the hidden face stole away the lives of the only people I had ever known. After my parents had taken their last breaths, there was nothing left for me, and I wondered so many times why that man hadn’t taken my life, too.

“You know, Taeyeon-shi, if you don’t tell us, we can’t help you.”

I stared at him blankly. My eyes mirroring back the image of him. He was trying to make it look as if he cared, like all of the rest of them did.

I knew that if I let anyone in, I’d just end up losing him or her, because nothing lasted forever. Not possessions, not people, not feelings. I blocked people out, built a wall around myself and allowed no one get in the slightest fraction close.

I am seventeen years old, no friends, no family, no home and no security.

“Okay, fine. Have it your way.” My so-called Therapist said, when I didn’t respond, his voice seething with frustration. He stood, gathering up his papers and left, not forgetting to slam the door shut behind him. The sound echoed.

I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest, noting how the paint was peeling off of the walls, and how the dimming light bulb made everything about this room so much more depressing. The clock ticked impatiently.

The door opened once more, and in entered the owner of the orphanage, a disappointed look on her pretty face.

She sighed, sitting down in the chair opposite and rubbed her face in frustration. “Taeyeon, you can’t keep doing this.”

“Doing what?”

Choi Sooyoung and I have had many conversations over the years, many of them following a similar pattern to this one and most of them occurring in this very room.

“You know what I’m talking about, Taeyeon. He’s quit. When are you going to understand that I’m doing this to help you?”

I huffed a little, averting my eyes away and looking at the metal table between us. Sooyoung had been the only person that I had trusted since my parents had died. She had tried and wanted to take care of me, but I wouldn’t let her. I was a failure. Sooyoung had done so much for me, and all I did was disappoint her.

“Taeyeon,” She said gently, placing her hands on the steel top of the table, spreading her fingers apart, considering her approach. “All I’m saying is that if you keep going the way you’re going, you’re never going to get adopted.”

Adopted - a word that you didn’t hear often when living in an orphanage, surprisingly.  The whole purpose of being in an orphanage was to get adopted, and yet not many people talked about it in fear that it would never happen. I had been here for nine years, and I’d be here until I was old enough to leave by myself.

I had been a troubled child since my parents were dragged out of my life, angry and confused, guilty of my own parents’ death. Sooyoung reckoned that what had happened to me was so traumatic that I needed a therapist to talk to, share my feelings with, but that was nine years ago and it still hadn’t worked because I didn’t allow it to. No therapist that I’ve had has lasted more than a month.

“A new therapist will be coming tomorrow. Please try and co-operate with them, because I’m afraid that I’m running out of options.”

I rolled my eyes as she stood. I wished that she could comprehend the fact that these therapists were never going to work.

“It’s getting late, Taeyeon. You should get some rest.” She said finally before leaving.

The door click