LITTLE ORPHANS

Chapter one “Rewrite”

"It's time to wake up, Now!"A well-known female voice screams at the top of her lungs. That familiar female voice that I have heard for 11 damn years —since I got here.

All the others and I woke up. Why do these people never let us sleep at least for five more minutes? They always wake us up at 5:00 am, and the sun is not even out, yet.

Getting off my small bed, I began to fix it up neatly like this as people instructed us to do every morning. For them, it was a way to discipline us "Orphans".We were taught to be respectful, obedient and educated.

You probably thinking... that it is a good thing, right ? will your wrong if you think that.

Because the way these people teach us is through pain, Physically and Mentally. They only want to break you down....just to rebuild you.

We're their little robots, being fabricated to satisfy our future adoptive parent expectations. They teach us no matter what your future parent wants from you— you must comply.

It's stupid really, you guys have no damn idea, how many times I have tried to escape this damn prison.

Every time that I try to escape from this hell hole, it's a failure. And every time they catch me— they punished me with painful whips, punches, and starvation.

Nobody cares in this place. How the adults treated us here.

Last week, there was a new young blonde that was trying to escape this place. She failed like everyone who ever tried before her...even me. When they caught her, these people did not show any mercy to the poor blonde.

They publicly embarrassed her by whipping her completely naked in the middle of the enormous dining room that was filled with young children, teenagers from both sexes and the staff members. And they whipped her until she lost consciousness. It was a horrendous sight to watch....poor Blondie.

These people wanted to show, what happens. When you try to escape from this place. Literally, this place was in the middle of freaking nowhere.

The orphanage is in the middle of a forest... creepy right? It looks more like a prison than an orphanage.

Sometimes, I think that these people are doing an experiment project on us.

Like a government project that is being tested with children and teenagers, who just don't have anybody to claim them or worry about them.

"Finish up, we don't have all fucking day" the middle-age women screamed again.

I internally rolled my eyes to this woman. This bitch constantly wants everything finished fast. Everyone quickly fixes their small twin beds as neatly as possible because every time we finished— the same bitch always had to check if we did it right.

And if you don't exceed her expectations. She'll whip your back with a thick wooden stick twenty-five times, while you count it out loud for everyone to hear without missing a number. And if you do miss a number, she adds five more.

When everyone finished, they stand straight like military soldiers with an expressionless face, next to their small beds, waiting for the middle-aged bitch to check.

This woman always takes her sweet ass time, too check a damn bed. She walks as slow as possible to make everyone more impatient and nervous as the second and minutes go by. Some were even saying a silent prayer.

On the other hand, I didn't care, honestly.

Why? Will, it doesn't matter, how neatly you make your bed— because that has nothing to do with why we were getting punished.

At the end of the day, SHE (aka the bitch) chooses who she wants to punish. It's a psychological trick, to make you doubt yourself —every single morning.

It's to make you rethink what you did wrong for the whole day, even though you made your bed exactly like yesterday.

My mind noticed this the second week, that these monsters brought me here. Ever since then, I have tried to escape from this place.

If you think, this is bad, wait until you see the rest of the day. You wouldn't want to be in my place either.

The bitch is now in front of me, staring me down, trying to see if my expressionless face changes into one of complete fear. Like if I'm weak like these other teens in the room.

She moves on to the next one. When she sees that I just don't give a flying fuck if she looks at me with her ugly face.

I know that it makes me sound...bitchy.But if you had gone through, what I have in this damn place. You would have become bitchy like me too.

Out of nowhere, a scream is heard throughout the room. A young redhead was picked today to be punished. You should have seen the redhead's face. Her eyes were watery, while her whole body shook in complete fear.

She gazes around the room, looking for anybody to help her out. But everyone stayed like statues in their place— trying to not be seen by the woman with the stick. Nobody helped her because if you do help the one that is getting "Punished" you get the punishment 10 folds.

Basically, when you do help someone. She uses a whiplash with all her force, hitting you all over your body, including your face. And let me tell you from experience, it's extremely painful.

"Take off, your shirt and your bra!" the bitch ordered the redhead. When these people punish the disobedient child. They want you to feel the object of pain against your sensitive skin— so your brain will register that feeling of pain.

And they want you to experience humiliation as well, because it was not only, females in this room, but also males.

The redhead hesitates for a split second before she eventually complied with the order. The young redhead neatly places her shirt and bra on the bed. She takes a deep breath preparing herself for the pain— she is going to receive. She stands up straight and turns her back to the woman with the stick.

The first blow was so hard that the sound of the stick hitting her skin, echo throughout the large room.

"One" The redhead breath out loudly, clenching her fists.

This second one was much louder than the first one. Damn, that had to hurt like a bitch.

"Two " some of the teenagers were flinching to the sound of it.

I, on the other hand, distracted myself by counting from one thousand to one —backward in my head. While I look at the redhead being hit by the stick.

In no time, the redhead got to twenty-four. Her back had these deep long dark-red marks decorating her pale skin. It looked like it was going to split open.

When she got to twenty-five, all the teenagers in the room felt mortified, you can see it in their eyes. Some of them throw the redhead sympathetic looks. The bitch that hurt the redhead— had a smile on her face...Admiring, her ART like she likes to call them.

All I wanted to do was wipe that stupid smile off that bitch face. But one day...one day will be her last day. She'll be crying for mercy. I promise you that. Her time will come, that she won't smile anymore.

How was chapter one?

If you see any grammatical errors, sorry about that.

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