Welcome Home

My name is Charlene, though my grandma always called me Char, and I was born with a social anxiety disorder. When I was growing up, I simply thought that I didn’t fit in, so I changed myself and tried to join the various groups within my elementary school.

First was the straight-A students – they were intelligent, hardworking, and above all, they followed the rules to a T. I tried hard, but I wasn’t very smart and my grades remained average. After a while, they stopped talking to me.

Next were the skaters – they always carried a skateboard around with them and wore vans shoes. They didn’t really care about school, but they weren’t against it, either. They were just kinda there, existing through life. I tried hard again, but I couldn’t even stand on a skateboard without busting my ass. Eventually, they stopped letting me on their boards.

Finally, I started hanging out with the troublemakers – these kids hated school and all authority figures. They lived for chaos, stole from the teacher’s desk, and got into fights just because they could. I tried hard once more, but even after getting suspended for fighting and stealing pens from the teacher, they dropped me like a used up McDonald’s cup.

After that, I just gave up trying.

That was when my anxiety really started to bloom. Thinking back on it now, I wonder why I chose to use such a beautiful word like bloom to describe something so ugly.

I started to panic whenever someone tried to talk to me and I begged my grandmother to homeschool me instead. It took months of begging, but she finally agreed. This would come to be the biggest regret of my life. It nourished my anxiety, encouraged it to grow and grow until, eventually, it completed encompassed my entire existence.

I started to get super anxious whenever I would leave the house, and my mind would always betray me when someone tried speaking to me. When I was in middle school, I got a job at the local supermarket bagging groceries and returning carts. I wanted to help my grandma who was struggling financially and yet… most of my time there was spent in the bathroom where I sobbed and tried to pull myself off the edge of a mental break.

I was fired just a few months after being hired.

My grandma had been battling cancer off and on for years, a consequence of so many years spent smoking in her youth. She fought hard, struggling to pay the bills with what little bit of retirement money she had. Honestly, I think the only reason she held on as long as she did is because of me.

When she finally passed on, none of my extended family wanted me or the problems that came along with my mental illness. I was only fifteen so I became a ward of the state, sent to live at an orphanage because no foster families were willing or available.

As one of the oldest kids there, potential parents never even spared me a glance. They only wanted a child past the terrible twos but before the angsty teen years, someone they could mold into their perfect little version of how their child should be.

I had resigned to spend the rest of my young life in the orphanage only to be coldly dropped into the real world the second I turned eighteen. This scared me to no end. I could barely function even with help, how was I supposed to survive on my own?

Just thinking about it brought tears to my eyes, but I was no stranger to holding back tears and pretending my fears don’t exist.

And then, one day… my life changed forever.

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“Children! Listen up,” Miss Maria clapped her hands to get our attention.

She’s one of the high ranking matrons of the orphanage, specializing in the education of the older students, myself included. She was an older woman, just reaching the cusp of sixty, with gray hair kept in a tight bun and warm blue eyes the shade of the ocean. She was pretty strict when it came to rules, manners, and respect, but she was by no means abusive or cruel.

“We have some important clients visiting us this afternoon,” she continued. “Their company will be providing aide to Oakpine Orphanage, so you all must be on your best behavior.” Her eyes narrowed, sweeping across the assembled children. “Anyone caught misbehaving during this visit will be cleaning the orphanage from top to bottom with Miss Juliana! Dismissed.”

There was a flood of hushed whispers as the kids left the room. I was one of the last to leave the room, listening to the gossip and conspiracy theories the other kids offered. The most prominent one was that the orphanage would close if they didn’t get this funding. The runner up theory was that the orphanage was being sold to some rich guy from overseas.

Either way, all of the kids that were able to comprehend what either of those theories meant were on edge, bringing a tense aura across the building.

Around five o’clock that afternoon, five men dressed in suits arrived. I peaked around the corner into the entryway, watching curiously as they stepped into the small entrance hall where the reception desk was.

The round man at the front of the pack introduced himself to Miss Maria and Miss Sarah as director Anthony Jones. He was balding, with only a small patch of white hair atop his head and beady black eyes.

The tall, thin man that resembled a skittish mouse was called Andrew Jamison. His brown hair was parted down the middle, bangs falling just above matching brown eyes.

The short, stubby man with a bushy beard was Sean McNeil. His dark brown hair was long, tied up in a tight bun atop his head and his eyes were blue.

The thin Asian man with thick glasses was Kiku Yamada. The sides of his head were buzzed, a patch of thick brown hair atop his head. His eyes were also brown.

Finally, the broad-shouldered Asian man was Genjou Sanada. His long black hair hung in a loose braid, his hazel eyes speckled with green.

Miss Maria led the men toward her office at the back of the orphanage and I debated on whether or not I should further press my luck by following them. Genjou was the last in line and he paused, turning to look over his shoulder.

His gaze met mine and my body immediately tensed up, realizing I had been caught. He didn’t say anything, though, he just smiled at me before entering the office, the door shutting behind him. I really didn’t want to get stuck on cleaning duty for getting in the way, so I chose not to eavesdrop on them further. As I turned around, though, two of the younger boys were sneaking past me toward the office.

Clearly, the threat of cleaning didn’t bother them.

With a shrug, I grabbed one of the old books from the shelf inside the classroom and headed outside. Despite being the last leg of winter, it was quite nice outside. The breeze was a bit chilly, but the sun was shining from a bright ocean of blue above. I settled myself against the base of my favorite tree, an old weeping willow that was probably older than Miss Maria herself, and focused on the book.

It was an old murder mystery that had probably been with the orphanage since its conception in the 1970s. The cover had faded and was peeling, the title on the spine barely visible. The pages were bent, torn, and stained a sickly yellow, and several of them had been scribbled on with crayon.

I quickly scanned the book to see if it was worth taking the effort to try and read through the mess. The entirety of chapters five, six, and half of seven had been torn crudely from the spine, most likely used as an art project.

“Damn,” I muttered under my breath, dropping the book onto the grass beside me and letting my head fall back against the bark. I could see the sunlight peeking through the thick leaves, but then it was gone, hiding behind a fluffy white cloud.

Feet crunched on the grass and I turned my head, finding Genjou approaching me. Is he going to scold me for eavesdropping on the adults? He didn’t seem angry as he squatted down in front of me. In fact, he was smiling softly.

“Hello. Your name is Charlene, correct?” His voice was deep and made me think of gravel, but it wasn’t painful to listen to. Actually, it was quite peaceful, calming even. I could detect an accent, but I wasn’t sure where from.

“Y-Yes, but most people call me Char…” I swallowed hard at the attention as my nerves started up like a factory machine. Why did he know my name? Miss Maria had drilled in us since the day we arrived that we should always be respectful to guests, so I tried to keep my panic in check as I cleared my throat, sitting up straight. “Can I… help you with something?”

“My name is Genjou Sanada. It’s nice to meet you.” His smile remained warm as he extended his hand toward me. I hesitantly shook it, noticing how large and calloused it was. “Miss Maria says you’re one of the oldest kids here. How old are you?”

“I just turned sixteen, sir.”

“May I ask how you came to live here?”

I chewed on my bottom lip nervously. It was so hard to maintain eye contact, but I was sure he would find it rude or offensive if I refused to look at him. “When my grandma passed away… I had nowhere else to go.”

His smile dropped a bit, head tilting to the side. “You have no other family?”

“I do, but… none of them really wanted me.” I couldn’t hold his gaze any longer, moving to stare at my jeans as I picked at a piece of blue thread, increasing the size of the small hole on the side of my leg. I should have just left it at that, but the words spilled from my mouth before I could stop them. “My mom left me with grandma when I was really young and she never came back. I never met my dad.”

“I see. I’m sorry to hear that.” The man’s brown eyes shimmered with sadness as he regarded me and I cursed, my panic rising.

“A-Ah, no, i-it’s okay, really! I accepted it a long time ago. I… I’ve never really been the easiest kid to deal with, so I don’t blame them at all for not wanting me. Besides… there are plenty of other kids here with real tragic backstories, you know? Some of them haven’t even come to accept the reality, so it’s kind of sad.” I realized I was rambling but I just couldn’t seem to apply the brakes.

His eyes had widened in surprise and I felt like crying for my stupidity.

I scrambled to my feet, brushing off the seat of my jeans. “A-Ah, I’m so-sorry, please excuse me!”

And then I did what I do best, the only skill I possessed – I ran like my life depended on it because, in my brain, it did. I ran into the orphanage and to the second-floor bathroom, closing and locking the door behind me. I slid down the wooden door as panic wrapped its filthy claws around my body.

I felt ice-cold, my heart hammering painfully against my ribs. Tears stung at my eyes, rolling down my chubby cheeks even though I did my best to stop them from doing so. It felt like the world was closing in around me, the room getting smaller with every tick of the clock in the hallway.

I knew it was all in my head. I knew that and yet it still felt like death’s boney hand was on my shoulder as he laughed in my ear, his breath the coldest chill I had ever felt in my life. I tucked my knees to my chest, burying my face within them as I silently pleaded for everything to just stop.

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A week had passed since the five men visited Oakpine Orphanage. The first couple of days, the mother matrons were clearly anxious about what the men had thought of their visit and if they believed we were fit to receive more funding.

They were clearly distracted, allowing the troublemakers among us to get away with stuff they usually never would. After the sixth day passed, they were acting relieved and happy, having returned to keeping a close eye on all of us. We assumed they had gotten the okay for the funding, but no one would comment on such, simply telling us that we were too young to worry about such matters.

On the seventh day, Miss Maria stopped me from leaving the room after class ended. The kids whispered and stared at me as they left, spinning their own theories as to why I was being kept behind, and she waited until the room was empty before addressing me.

Had she found out about my breakdown? Was she angry that I had so rudely run away from Genjou? I could only try to swallow my nerves as she began speaking.

She sat behind her wooden desk, hands folded in front of her as she sat with her back as straight as a pole. “Charlene, when Miss Garcia calls everyone down to supper, I would like you to stay behind.”

My body tensed up, hands gripping at my torn jeans. “Am I… being punished for something?”

Her usually sharp expression softened. “No, dear, you’re not in trouble. I can’t say much right now, I just need to speak with you later about something important.”

I wasn’t convinced, but I nodded anyway. “Yes, ma’am…”

“Good. You’re dismissed.”

I stepped out of the room, my mind running wild. She hadn’t seemed angry with me… but then why did she want to see me? And on taco night of all nights… I doubted it would be a simple five-minute meeting and by the time we were done, I was sure the more pig-headed of the children would have eaten all of the tacos.

It certainly wasn’t the first time it had happened. When I get super anxious, I’m unable to eat no matter how hungry I am. Even the tacos I love can’t persuade me so I’ve oftentimes had to wait until the other kids finished eating. By the that time, however, most of the food is gone and I’m usually left with scraps.

One of the women who cooks our food usually takes pity on me and tries to put food back for me. The thing is, if she gets caught doing this, she can get into trouble. She’s tried to convince me to tell Miss Maria about this issue, but I don’t want to be a bigger burden on them. They already try hard to make changes to accommodate my illness and with so many other children to think about, I don’t want to make it worse on them.

With a sigh, I headed to my room, one which I shared with nine other kids. There were five single beds on either side of the room, with a narrow space between them to walk down the middle of the room. My bed was at the back on the left.

Against the very back wall, under a large stained glass window, was a wooden box full of broken and dirty toys. Beside that were a row of dressers, one drawer for each child, and a small bookshelf that was standing on its very last life.

I fell onto my bed, the mattress hard and lumpy, as I stared up at the popcorn ceiling, a shade of faded white that more resembled coffee with a lot of milk. How many times had I just laid here counting the patterns that jutted out from the ceiling? I had probably counted every single mark at least three times by now.

The clock on the wall softly ticked.

Tick, tock.

Tick tock.

Tick tock.

The repetitive sound in the silence was driving me up a wall. Any other time, the kids would be screaming and playing so loud that the clock couldn’t even dream of being heard, but now it seemed as if the orphanage had been abandoned.

I rolled over onto my side and closed my eyes, willing everything away. At least in my dreams I can be a normal person without anxiety. Someone who is worthy of being loved and who has a family that loves them.

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A light, airy chiming echoed throughout the orphanage, followed by Miss Garcia’s soft voice, “Dinner time!”

Like a stampede of buffalo, the kids dropped what they were doing and rushed toward the dining hall, nearly knocking the poor woman over in the process. I stood in the doorway, watching them as they excitedly talked about what toppings they wanted on their tacos.

There were even debates over which was better – hard shell or soft. It seemed to be pretty evenly divided and then there was one kid that tried to placate both sides by wrapping a soft shell around a hard shell, which only fueled the debate more. Personally, I’m quite partial to a soft shell taco, though I can occasionally enjoy a hard taco, as well.

Knowing that Miss Maria wanted to see me, I chose to go left toward her office instead of right toward the dining hall.

Her door was opened before I even got close and Miss Maria stepped out of her office. “Charlene, you saved me the trouble of having to come and get you. Come now, let’s not keep our guest waiting.”

My brow furrowed. There was a guest? I hadn’t heard anyone arrive, but I did manage to fall asleep for about ten minutes until one of the boys threw a soccer ball at the back of my head. Without a word, I followed her into the office, eyes widening when Genjou stood up from the chair in front of her desk.

He smiled warmly. “Hello, Char. It’s nice to see you again.”

“Hello,” I mumbled softly, turning my gaze to the brown carpet.

“Charlene, what have I told you about mumbling?” Miss Maria scolded lightly, tapping my shoulder.

“Sorry, Miss Maria.”

“Go sit down, dear.”

“Yes, Miss Maria.” I slowly approached the desk, taking the seat on the left. The man reclaimed his seat, crossing one leg over the other. Miss Maria claimed her seat behind the desk, glancing at him before settling her attention on me.

“Now, Charlene, I’m sure you’re wondering why I’ve asked you here and why Mr. Sanada is here. Would you like to explain?” She wondered, quirking her brow at him.

He shifted in his chair so he could see me better. “I came here with a team of government officials to gather information on the current state of orphanages within the United States. It’s a joint effort between the Japanese government and the U.S. government to improve the well being of young children left in orphanages.”

I scratched my cheek, glancing at Miss Maria nervously. “I’m sorry… I don’t really understand what this has to do with me…”

“Patience,” she scolded.

“Sorry, Miss Maria…”

“I didn’t plan on coming here to adopt anyone. In fact, I already have two children of my own, but…” He paused as if searching for the right words to express what he wanted to say. “After meeting you, I feel as if I would regret it if I didn’t adopt you.”

Wait, what? He… He wants to adopt me? I was left speechless, but one word passed through my lips before I could stop it, wide eyes resting on the man. “Why?”

“I’m not sure, to be honest, but I feel as if you would be a wonderful addition to my family.”

I frowned at Miss Maria. “Did you tell me him about my… issues?”

She nodded. “I’m required by law to disclose any medical information to potential adopters.”

“Then… why?” My eyes snapped to his and I tried to get across how desperate I felt at that moment, tears stinging at my eyes. “I don’t think you understand how bad I am. There’s a reason none of my relatives want me, my problems are too much to handle. I don’t interact with other human beings, I-I can’t even work! I’d be completely useless to you! There are… are so many wonderful children here that aren’t… broken like me. Surely they would be a better fit for -“

His large hand rested atop my head, gently ruffling my hair. I expected a look of pity or regret, but his gaze was full of warmth and understanding. “I’m well aware of how bad your condition is, but I would still like to bring you into my family. If you’re not comfortable, I certainly won’t force you, but the option is on the table. If you need time to think about it, that’s okay. It’s a big decision to make.”

The tears finally broke free, sliding down my cheeks and I cursed at how sensitive I was being. This man, this stranger that I had met only once, was willing to put up with my mental illness and give me a home, a family. But…

What if I end up being more than he bargained for and sends me back? What if I make him hate me? What if –

Warm arms encircled my body, bringing me into a warm chest. I clung to his suit, unable to hold back my sobs. This man, who I had met only once before, felt so warm and comforting.

He felt like home.