:Edge-2

But Ms.Handerson persisted. "Serenity is your name, you should be called that. Its such a pretty name." I looked out at the city, the huge buildings, the litted concrete streets where people walked like the dead by. Melancholy seemed to wash over the whole city. Except for me. I was happy. I wasnt free yet. But I was soon to be. The city was dead. It was no longer home. "Listen I don’t call you Lilly, so don’t call me Serenity. I don’t like it." I snapped. "Fine." We were silent as we drove to the orphanage under clouded skies.

Roxbury orphanage sat in the middle of no where. On a peice of land that had a border of trees sitting behind it. The whole orphanage looked like a boarding school. Except it wasnt run by Nuns. Thank Blog. If it was I’d be deemed spawn of Satan and they’d slap crosses on me and drown me in Holy Water. I stood outside on the first step evaulating my new tomb. The whole thing evaulated to shit. I climbed the concrete steps up to the blue metal door it had one wide window. How welcoming. I yanked the heavy door open not bothering to hold it for Ms.Handerson. A few kids roamed the hallways. There were lockers. Holy shit. Each kid had a locker for they’re stuff. Luckily they were wide. They looked at me. Me, with my crazy red and black hair, with my ripped jeans that hugged my legs like spandex, my studded belt, and my misfits shirt. My black hoodie hanging loose on my body. I put on my mask of no emotion which I had perfected over the years of my beatings.

"Don’t you fucking cry I swear I’ll beat your ass so hard you won’t know what fucking hit you!" My moms hand came down across my back. I was lying on my bed the sun was shinning through my blinds making a patten on my floor which I focused on. Silent tears streaming down my face. I wiped them away biting my bottom lip. She was off again. Her hand came down harder now, and I felt that numbing sensation in my head again. "You worthless peice of dirt!" She roared before I slipped into unconsciousness. Oh how I welcomed that peaceful sensation of not being there.

I felt Ms.Handerson hand on my shoulder, I hated how she tried to touch me as if she couldn’t us words, ushering me from my memory to the admissions office. A strict looking lady sat at her desk her hands folded on her lap. She sat in a large brown chair. Her grey hair was tied into a tight bun. She wore minimal make-up. She, like Ms.Handerson was dressed in a suit. On her desk was office things, including a small cactus. Before looking at her I examined her office. The wall paper was a striped blue, the floor was plastic tiles. And honest to blog there was pictures of Jesus sitting behind her. I seethed as I looked at her as Ms.Handerson pushed me into one of the black plastic chairs that sat infront of her desk. A brass plaque had her name;Mrs.Sanborne, embossed in black shiny letters. I studied Sanborne. She had (honest to blog) a hawk nose. Her eyes which were narrow examined me. Her pale thin lips were pursed. She cleared her throat, and I swear I almost thought she was going to have an adam apples that jiggled. Ew.