It was the year 1942 the streets were lit up as if Christmas was here the atmosphere was full of joy. That was the last time I felt joy, happiness, something that makes you feel warm. Before that life was a pit of darkness, no fire to lighten it up. I was alone in this world; no one talked to me, played with me. You could say no one did anything with me. Well that was until I met that person, meeting that person was the greatest gift anyone could ask for, but losing that person, the one who opened your eyes to the world, helped you in so many ways, is the greatest loss anyone could have had.

June 6th 1924

I was born, nothing really special. Baby born, nurses congratulate. You get the point. Five years later parents die, car crash, on the day of their daughters birthday. That day I didn’t shed any tears. Not because I was a child, no not because of that. My reason is quite understandable; to get straight to the point my parents didn’t care for me. They only gave me the life necessities. They were an empty shell. No emotion in them, no love.

Behind the loving façade they show in front of people is an ugly truth. Shouting and screaming rang through my closed door and into my ears everyday. I had cried to sleep almost everyday whispering ‘stop’ into my blankets pleading for them to stop. It was useless, I didn’t have a say in anything in the world, I was only five. I was only five but I understood my ‘parents’ love for me is equal for their love for each other. I was a burden to them. And dying was the only way out of having to take care of me.

The heavy burden was finally released off their shoulders.

After their death I was put into an orphanage, a pretty big one with 300 orphans, it was also a school. From the first glance you would think it was a prison from the peeling gray walls to the moss growing around the edges of the building. It was ugly. It loomed over the cracked pavements and abandoned shops on the other side of the prison house. It had rails on every window keeping in the poor unfortunate souls, which I was going to be part of soon.  I entered this sad building, and boy was I right it did look like a prison. Sad gloomy faces were walking down the stairs clutching books. Their stony faces almost gave them away as robots if it wasn’t for their chests going in and out and their eyes blinking. I sighed dreading the future. As well as my new life.