PrefaceA Chapter by Elliott Zettel
Who expects that at the age of seven your family, your life, everything that you are is suddenly ripped out of your grasp. What pain could you even try to imagine, equal to this? My life was ruined; I was destroyed cut off from the world that is my story. You think that was it? Was that all the pain you could give someone even after that happened? No, I was not wanted, there were rumors that the same people who came after my parents would come after me, so no one wanted me. They didn’t want to endanger themselves. Why was this done? Hah. I don’t even know; no one ever told, me not even the police; they said I was too young to need to know just yet. I was then put in an orphanage 20 miles from the town I had grown up in. Not only was I neglected like a lot of the other children, but I was bullied. We would only get dressed up if someone was coming to pick one of us.
It was September 12, and winter was coming. Everyone wanted to get out of there by winter, the nights were brutal some children even died during the winter. That day a man came in we were all dressed in our “picking dresses”, that is what we all called them, bows in our hair, and good shoes on our feet and a nice bruise on right my cheek. It was now two years since I had been put in that wretched place. No family would probably ever pick me I thought. I always had some sort of bruise on my face and scars on my arms. I was scolded often for getting dirty even though I wasn’t the one who pushed me in the mud. I looked like a trouble maker the nuns had always told me. “You’ll never get picked if you look like this, or if you act like this.” I wondered why they even showed me to the people, probably to make their point I thought sarcastically.
The man that had come was a tall young man. He had brunette hair that was cut so as not to touch the collar of his pressed white dress shirt. The gentleman’s shirt was then tucked perfectly into his also pressed pants. The shoes he wore were also expensive looking. I also noticed his tie which seemed to be quietly choking him. His cuff links and tie clasp were a set. They were clocks; they seemed to match his expression “time is money”. He wore a straight mouth with no expression to be seen. But through the expressionless cloud that was draped over him there was no dark air to him. He didn’t give off a formidable feel. It was more of a welcoming feel.
While I had stood there I realized that the girls that had once stood beside me had quietly stepped back. Little Mary then, even started to cry. They were scared. I took a step back to even myself with the others, and then resumed my silent questioning. At that moment I caught his eye. His eyes were magnificent. They were a beautiful deep milk chocolate brown. Then he looked away and turned to the nun.
“I have chosen” he spoke, with a deep hypnotizing voice.
He walked over to me, and then kneeled on one knee.
“What is your name child?”
“Sara. I am Sara. And might I inquire your name Sir? ” I replied.
“Very nice to meet you sir” I took a short courtesy.
“Yes,” the man stood up, “She’s the one.”
“But there are so many other fine girls here! Why do you choose her she’s our troublemaker?” the nun tried to persuade him otherwise.
“No,” he kindly interrupted her, “she is perfect.” He turned around, and patted my head. “You should go grab your things” he said to me.
“But I don’t "“ I started to say I didn’t own anything else, but the nun interrupted.
“You heard the man! Go! Grab your things!” she gave me a warning glance. She wouldn’t want her job taken away for not giving the children their things.
In the back room some of the other nuns mumbled under their breaths about how I could have been chosen. Then I noticed that they were packing a suitcase. They put a doll in, some nice clothes, I even saw them put in a little necklace. Wow, we were given things so we would keep our mouths shut. The head nurse came over to me with the suitcase and dropped it on my lap. So I gave her a nice big grin, just to aggravate her. With that she spun on her heel to cover up her look of disgust.
“Follow me” she said. The man had been waiting for me outside. Now in the light I could clearly see his hair color. While in the dismal orphanage it had looked brunet, outside it was more pretty caramel blonde color than brown. He opened up the door for me with a smile. That was when I saw the scar. His right hand had a scar on it. The skin was wrinkled and a bit deformed, like it had been burned. I realized that I had just done something very rude. I had been staring. Immediately I looked down. It surprised me when he patted my head again, and I looked up. His eyes were happy and they smiled more than even his mouth did.
“Do you have everything.” He asked.
“And more,” I replied as I looked back at the nuns. The head nun scowled. I returned that with a smile again. Then I hopped into the vehicle, desperately hoping I would never have to see that wretched orphanage building ever again.
© 2012 Elliott Zettel