I had spent a serious amount of time to achieve that specific shade of purple. Standing out from the crowd with that vibrant color sometimes felt awkward, but I had never been afraid of being in the spotlight. On the contrary. I’d rather be a beacon of light in a vast sea of anonymous people rather than a wallflower. I had come to realize early on that wallflowers did not get to dance. That was the first thing that I learned in the orphanage.
Orphanage life had never been easy for me. I was in a good one, however, life there had its struggles. Caregivers would come and go, adults would come and go, children would come and go. I had to learn early on that people would leave, never to be seen again.
I had never had a person to call family but in my imagination, being a family member meant that there would be continued contact, even from a distance. That was missing in the orphanage relationships.
Life in the Vulgate orphanage was regulated; life happened on a schedule. We would have to get up at a certain time, dress up at a certain time, have lunch at a certain time, go to bed each evening at the same time. I had learned a great set of survival skills to make life work for me. I had learned how to be successful. I knew how to be superficially charming, stronger and sneakier than the other children in my effort to draw the so much needed attention to myself. When love was missing, constant attention was a nice substitute.
For as long as I remembered my life, I was aware that I could only depend on myself. I could only count on myself. I had to compete with dozens of other children to attract my favorite caregiver’s attention, convince the cook to save me the larger portion of chicken breast for dinner, be the first to get into the shared bathroom and have a shower with hot water.
I was one of the most popular girls in Vulgate. I never felt lonely or unimportant. I had always been a significant member of the orphanage population. However, for some inexplicable reason, I never managed to attract the interest of any of the families who visited our place. It was always some other girl, or boy, who was ultimately adopted. I was always the one who was left behind. I had not even been asked for an interview with any of the couples that were looking for their family’s next member at Vulgate. I had never been given the opportunity to show off how adorable I was and steal their hearts, convincing them to take me back home with them.
Me, the most popular girl in the Vulgate orphanage, had never been optioned for an adoption. How could that be possible?
I had so much love to give but I was never given the chance to share this love with anyone.
I never felt neglected. However, I felt abandoned so many times. Every time one of my friends was adopted and left to join their new family, my heart ached so hard I thought I would die. Each departure felt like a death to me. I suffered more deaths I thought my young heart could cope with. Subsequently, all of my besties found homes and there I was, the oldest girl in the orphanage, reaching teenagerhood, waiting for the moment I would leave Vulgate behind and start my awesome new adult life, alone, without guidance.
It was then when Lynette joined us. A tall, skinny teen with large almond eyes and a permanent broad smile painted on her round face. Lacking other options, we instantly became best friends. We were the oldest girls in Vulgate and consequently, we shared the same interests, fears, and desire to start our independent adult lives away from the boundaries of the orphanage.
The world was ours to conquer and we could not wait for the time when we would spread our wings and fly away, free and full of life, to seize our dreams and find true love to fill our empty hearts.
When the time came, the cage door opened, and the little birds flew away. It was terrifying and frustrating and less adventurous than I expected it to be. Sometimes I felt hopeless and insecure. I missed the security Vulgate provided. I missed our caretakers’ guidance and counseling. I was all alone in a crazy world where I had to work hard to earn my living, with no one to rely on and no one to comfort me. Lynette was my only family and I was the only one she had, too, even though we had known each other for less than a year.
But I could still count on the moments of joy and wonder and gratitude that were about to come in my life, hoping that those moments would bring healing and hope to my loveless soul.
No surprise I fell so madly in love with Own Hart.
I sneaked a glance at him as I passed by their table. His face looked so familiar that I started to believe that it was a case of déjà vu, that I had lived through that situation before. I had read once that people who traveled more or watched more movies were more likely to experience déjà vu than others. The backyard of Vulgate was the farthest place I had ever been and given the fact that we had only one movie night per week, I had not watched that many movies either. Suzanna, my most favorite tutor, had once told me than a déjà vu experience could be triggered under high pressure and it could even be an indicator of psychiatric illness.
Well, I was crazy. Crazy for him. And I could tell he was falling for me too.
“Are you sneaking behind my back to see me?” he said and winked at me.
“Oh, no, I was just checking if everything is okay with your food.” I blushed
