Chapter 8

[Cecilia]

I was right. I had a very long night. They all were. It's been a week and still, I don't sleep well.

I am sitting at the gargantuan table pushing my food around and thinking. Of course, it's not too bad, my thoughts are about how tired I am this time. I didn't get much sleep last night and what I did get was full of memories. All I want is some peace of mind, away from pain and memories.

"Cecilia?" Robert says. He sounds impatient, which means he has probably called my name a few times. "Are you alright? You aren't eating." I plaster a smile on my face.

"I'm quite well, just a little tired." I know I'm lying, but I'm not ready to tell them what's happened to me. It's too painful. "If you'll excuse me." I say getting up from my chair.

"Wait," He calls after me. "Would you like to walk?" A flash of pain rips through me. I shake my head weakly.

"I think I will just go read." I remember how shocked they were to hear I could read. I had been taught by a man who had adopted me two years before...

I shake my head again, fighting the tears. Oh, when will I find peace? I just want to live! No more pain, just peace. Is it too much to ask for? Just happiness, hope? It's not very much. I don't need to be rich, or pretty. Just happy. It's all I want.

I leave for the library. Such a large, lonely room. A place of peace and escape. The only place I can. My thoughts just fade away there, as I read and write.

I sit down at my desk. Sighing, I pull out my quill and ink. I'm not sure what to write. I am not much of a poet, nor am I a story teller. I just want to write. I don't want to write my personal thoughts, they are too personal, I don't wish any to see or hear them. I don't want to write all of my life down, it would bore me.

Memories. The memories that plague me every night. The memories that don't let me sleep. As soon as the thought passes through my mind, a memory washes over me. I begin to write.

I have spent my life in an orphanage. All fourteen years of my life have been spent here. I have stood in this line what seems like thousands of times before. I have seen other girls come and go, but never me. I don't understand what's wrong with me. I'm a little girl just like all the rest. Except for the fact that that they are all hopeful, but I have lost my hope of ever finding a family. All the girls I have ever seen adopted have been under 10.

"This is all of them, sir." Ms. Berle says. The man glances over us. His eyes stop on me for a moment. I don't hesitate to look him in the eye. I may be of low position, but I don't care. Ms. Berle is going to kill me later for this. But once again I don't care. His lips curl into a small smile, and he shakes his head at me. This isn't something I'm used to. Normally people look horrified at my lack of manners, and my stubbornness. He looks over the other girls, but he doesn't stop to look at any of the others as he did me.

"How many are above the age of twelve?" He asks, looking at me again.

"Just her." Ms. Berle said, pointing to me. The man smiles.

"I'll take her then." My eyes pop open wide. I am shocked. He... He just... He's taking me? "What is your name child?" He asks me.

"Ce-Cecilia, sir." I want to beat myself in the head for stuttering, but I'm just so shocked. Nobody had paid a second glance at me. Ever. I can't believe this is happening! "What is your name, sir?" I ask in return, figuring that calling him 'you' wouldn't be the politest thing. But then, when have I ever cared about being polite. The man chuckles.

"You may call me Nicholas." He tells me. I smile. "Go pack your things." I skip away, smiling, to do as I was told.

The memory fades, leaving me sitting here, stunned. I am amazed by how the memory is so clear, how it just flowed from my pen onto the paper. The clock chimes, it startles me. As does the time. It's already six. I look out the window. It's sunset. I put the papers in a drawer, and leave for dinner.