Michelle rose at the crack of dawn, as always. It had been already three months since she'd been living in Green Meadows Orphanage, but she was still used to all the things she used to do- after all, the daily routine had been exactly the same for eight years.
Michelle sat quietly in bed. The other girls in her room, nine others, were still asleep. They never awoke as early as Michelle, and nobody knew about Michelle's habit. In fact, they had not really tried to get to know her. Michelle, to them, had always been quite peculiar. They thought of her as a queer little girl, and since the first few days she'd been reluctant to answer their questions and very shy and distant, they'd given up. They were always polite, but they just weren't interested in her personality.
Not that Michelle blamed them. She was more used to people not liking her than to people wanting to know her, the real her. To her, this was normal. Her parents hadn't really cared about her, she knew that. They'd always said that when she got punished and hit, it was for her own good, but she knew better. She hadn't ever been sure whether to believe it. It just didn't seem right to her, and when she saw other families, they seemed different, and not as unhappy.
Michelle softly laid one foot on the ground, watching the other girls intently for a reaction, but no one stirred. She was safe. She tip-toed her way into the bathroom and stared at her reflection.
She thought she was an average looking girl. Her eyes were a mossy green, and probably her best feature, but she was used to them, and didn't regard them as anything special. Her hair had always been cut short, for "no need to waste shampoo on Michelle", her mother had always said. It boyishly hung around her face, the brown locks suiting her well, but it was not her best look. The bruises on her face had faded, and Michelle got a look at how she looked without them. Her eyelashes were long and dark, giving her a very feminine look- which contrasted with her hair.
She was not ugly, although she thought so.
She was unusually short for being an eight-year-old, and quite underfed, although that had improved since she'd arrived to Green Meadows Orphanage, but they DID have to feed sixty children with barely any income to speak of. She was already feeling stronger, but not happier. She knew the days without beatings would not last. How could they? In her mind, all parents beat their children. After all, this was the only truth she'd ever known, and she didn't know any other way.
Little did she know that her life would turn around within days.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Here's a new story... got inspired just today, this is different from what I'm used to writing, so I hope I can pull it off and I hope you like it, too. Enjoy!
Note: Violence is mostly just talked about, except in flashbacks.
Note: Violence is mostly just talked about, except in flashbacks.
