Chapter One

There were only two ways I knew to escape the miseries of reality: listening to Mick Jagger and writing in my journal. But since I was out of words today head-banging to The Rolling Stones was my idea of an ideal getaway.

Only the caregiver in charge of me, Suzan, didn't think so. Apparently rock music is what gives me my "edgy" attitude and that I should listen to something much calmer for my psychological health. That coming from a lady who listens to Enya for fun- throw me a paper bag cause I'm about to barf. I've burdened her for a little over fifteen years now; the remaining three years seemed like they were going to drag on forever.

My name is Abagail Garcia, or so they call me. I don't really know who I am or where I come from. I've lived in this orphanage- St. James Orphanage, Omaha, Nebraska – since I was only a couple of weeks old. The only details I know about my parents was that they left me at the doorstep of this orphanage with a note saying quote:

Dear Owner: Mrs. Mathew,

I leave you our most prized possession, my daughter Abagail. Her clothes and other belongings will be arriving shortly after our departure. Please tell her that her mother and I are very sorry that we had to abandon her and that we love her tenderly. She's one of a kind. I sincerely hope that one day she will find her way.

M. L. Garcia

PS: Show her this letter when she is able to read.

I don't even know if the guy is dead or alive. He left no clue indicating his whereabouts or how I could contact him if I ever wanted to. Throughout my years, I always imagined my father as a guy with many secrets; a man who did terrible things for personal reasons; maybe like a mafia man or something. Whenever I try to picture my father I am instantly reminded of Marlon Brando from The Godfather.

I look at myself in the mirror and try to imagine my features as a man, but as much as I am known for my rock-solid personality and kick-ass right hook, my features were way too feminine. So I concluded that I inherited my mother's looks and my dad's strength.

But who was I to talk? I knew nothing of them.

I lay in bed, amidst this boring and sometimes ghastly room and I wonder sometimes how my life would be like if my parents hadn't abandoned me. Would I have any friends other than my mp3 player and Garfield (my adopted cat who looks like a real-life Garfield, hence the name)? Do I have siblings? Would I have had a different personality other than my always so gloomy, get out of my face or I will jab punch you bitchy attitude? Living in an orphanage with no roommates for a little over five years now – because it's not "safe" for me to have one - can really chill a person's heart. Or as my shrink says: You convert your pain and loss into anger, and you take it out on your surroundings in a negative way.

I hate that redneck.

Three more years then I'm out of this place. I keep reminding myself. I made it through fifteen years. There's no reason why you can't wait for three more years.

Who was I kidding?

Patience wasn't really my strongest virtue. I lost count of the number of times I tried to stage a "prison break" from this hell hole, but I always got caught. The security in this place was impenetrable. According to Mrs. Mathews, or how I like to call her: Lady Lucifer, the owner and manager of this orphanage, this type of security measures were designed for people just like me; people who cannot be adopted because they scare potential parents away, people who do not show appreciation or gratitude towards this fine orphanage which has catered to them since birth.

Three more years Abagail, you can do it girl!

Suzan barged into the room, her face as plum as could possibly be.

'Didn't you hear me call for dinner?' she groaned.

'Can't you see that I'm wearing my earphones?', I said matter-of-factly as I took them off and jumped out of bed.

She glared at me and without another word ushered me to dinner. Why that woman put up with me, I can never seem to tell.

'Finally some real food', I said as soon as I entered the elaborate dining room.

The entire orphanage was a fusion of vintage and modern décor, suitable for orphans of every age. It had countless dorms for each age group, a playroom filled with video games and toys, a library that satisfied some of my continuous boredom, a small chapel for the religious, a large kitchen suitable to fill one hundred people – maybe even two.

The dorms for the boys and the girls were at opposite wings of the orphanage; specially designed for us teenagers with raging hormones, although we are allowed to intermingle once outside the dorms. Both wings had enormous bathrooms with a hallway of stalls – for obvious reasons – and baby changing booths. The feel of the orphanage was very similar to that of a boarding school.

But the dining room was the one I fancied the most. There was something about the ornate design of the whole room that gave it a prestigious and royal feel. Despite my natural air of glumness, this room always made me feel like a princess. It got me to get in touch with my feminine side which was dominated by my tom-boyish nature. But I never let the young woman in me show.

'Spaghetti and meatballs? Did Mrs. Hess finally get sick of cooking beef stew all week? Or were we finally out of canned beef stew?', I mused aloud, not sure who I was talking to, but the remark got me a few giggles from my fellow orphans.

The rest gave me dirty looks. One in particular couldn't wait for me to fall into trouble.

'Be quiet and eat your food before it gets cold', Suzan chastised.

I did so obediently and gobbled on my spaghetti. For someone so petite and slim, and who does nothing but lurk in her room all day unless she is cooking up a recipe for disaster – no pun intended – I surely do work up an appetite.

'Where are your table manners?' Suzan chipped in for more chastising.

It's like that woman's primary focus in this twenty-four-foot table which housed a little over a hundred orphans was moi.

'Don't you mean to say where all her manners are?' added my one and only true enemy, Jeannine Lockhart.

The girl was very beautiful on the outside; her jade eyes, blonde hair and fair complexion made her look divine. Her insides, on the other hand, were the nastiest shade of black you could possibly imagine. With her background, it was a shock she wasn't completely mental. She only moved into the orphanage around three months ago. She was a year older than me and, despite her witty comebacks and sarcastic comments, was a total bubble-brain.

My mouth was too full to speak so instead I flicked her the finger. That earned me a few more giggles and gasps, and I heard someone choke but I didn't care to look around to see who it was. My eyes were fixated on Jeannine and her now cherry-red face.

'Is that the best you got you little pest?', she challenged me.

By then I swallowed my food and was ready for a verbal combat.

'If you have any better comebacks, please, humor me', I told her while I fluttered my eyelashes in a sense of mockery.

'Both of you behave, or you will be dismissed from dinner', Suzan warned.

Suzan hadn't noticed that I gave Jeanine the finger, so I wasn't in any real trouble with her just yet. But she was in no way, shape or form suitable for being an authoritative figure, let alone try to control a war between two anger fueled teenagers.

'It's no wonder nobody likes you. Once a misfit, always a misfit', Jeannine pressed on.

'That coming from the girl whose mother killed herself. At least now we know why she had to do it. If I had a kid like you, I wouldn't have waited sixteen years to kill myself.'

Bullseye.

I definitely hit a nerve with that one.

'How dare you? My mother was mentally ill you little bit...'

'That is it! Both of you to Mrs. Mathews' office! Now!'

And with that ended my appetite. Bubble Brain and I made our way to the owner's office, both glaring at each other grudgingly.

I darted into the room first before Jeannine could start rambling about how hurt and humiliated I made her feel. But my plan was cut short.

'You didn't knock', Lady Lucifer said in her shrilled and chilling voice.

I turned back around, went outside, closed the door, knocked, and waited for her to give me permission to enter. The moment I received it I went inside and started rambling about how that bubble brain always got on my nerves and pushed my buttons. And, as usual, Mrs. Mathews paid no attention to what I was saying and was busy finishing her paper work and sipping on her Turkish coffee. Jeannine tried to cut me off several times to explain her part of the story but there was only so much cutting-off she can do with my non-stop rambling.

Mrs. Mathews, on the other hand, only had to lift her index finger to silence me. She lifted her head and stared at both of us with her dark, cunning eyes; probably thinking of the best way to punish us.

'Miss Lockhart, I'd like you to head straight to your room and don't leave until you've been told otherwise. Consider yourself dismissed from any future activities.'

'But Mrs. Mathews I…'

'Not another word. Go to your room', and with that she left, slamming the door behind her.

'Alright Rebecca, that's the way you teach a brat how to behave', I said with a crooked smile.

My happiness was momentary, however. There was a reason why I called Mrs. Mathews Lady Lucifer; her stare gave me the creeps.

'You will not, under any circumstances, address me by my first name. I am, and always will be Mrs. Mathews to you. Am I clear?'

'As a crystal', I said without hesitation. I had a feeling that my punishment will be a million times worse than Jeannine's. Lady Lucifer never believed she could go easy on me.

'Starting tomorrow morning, and for the next three days, you will be raking the leaves outside.'

'In this weather? It's getting really cold outside. The heating system is barely working inside; you want to throw me into the cold!' I protested.

But I knew I had a long shot at getting myself out of this one.

'It's either that or scrubbing the toilets', she said with a cynical twist in her voice.

I swallowed hard before I said my next words. 'I'll rake the leaves.'

'That will be all. You may leave.'

I stomped my foot hard against the wooden stairs as I made my way back to my room. As much as I enjoyed seeing Jeannine suffer, fighting with her always ended both of us in trouble. We rarely fought as we make it a point to completely ignore each other, but that girl really got on my nerves sometimes and it was the same vice versa.

Nonetheless, I took on my punishment like a true sport and went on racking the leaves the next morning. My mp3 player made it a whole lot bearable. Despite my earlier protests about the cold weather, I was sweating under the layers of sweaters I drowned myself into. The feeble afternoon heat from the sun made its contribution as well.

By the end of the third day my shoulders, arms and wrists were aching from all the racking. I pitied whoever was in charge of racking the leaves every autumn, but I was glad I was done with my punishment and I dragged myself to my room to take a nap before lunch. My trip was cut short when Suzan met up with me in the hallway and told me to go straight to Mrs. Mathews' office. I wondered what sort of trouble I got myself into this time without even realizing it. Sometimes, I feel its trouble that always seemed to find me, and not the other way around. It seemed to bump into me when I least expected it.

And speaking of bumping into things, I collided with Ethan. He was one of the cutest guys in the orphanage and, like me, had no clue who his parents were and whether they were dead or alive. Ethan was brought into the orphanage when he was about three years old. And since then he has regarded me as his best pal. I, on the other hand, could not stand the way he always lurked behind me. He was nicknamed "The Shadow" because he followed me around just like one. Whisper on the street was that he had a crush on me. At first I was totally oblivious to his crush, but now I could definitely see the signs; the stuttering, the way he always lustfully stares me down, the way he tries to help me when I'm in trouble.

Yup. He totally has a crush on me.

'Sorry', he said, out of politeness.

As much as I tried, I could never bring myself to be mean to this guy. With his auburn hair and green eyes, he always seemed to find my weak spot. And that made him a whole more annoying than he already was.

'It's okay Ethan. Catch you later', I said and jogged my way to the owner's office. The only reason I jogged was because I could feel his eyes on my back like a hawk. As soon as I exited the dormitory I slowed my pace; my aching body could not bear any more physical activities.

As soon as I reached the door to Lady Lucifer's office, I stood there for a minute, mentally going through all the things I did last week. I came up with nothing sordid enough that could land me into trouble. I took in a few deep breaths to calm myself before I knocked the door.

Stay calm; don't show her that you're nervous. You didn't do anything wrong. Not this time.

It took her longer than it should have to invite me inside. For a moment I thought I was lucky enough and she wasn't in her study, but that idea went away as fast as it came when her chilling voice said, 'Come in, Abagail.'

I barged into the room and the words at the tip of my tongue escaped before I could stop them. 'Whatever it is you think I did, I didn't do it!'

So much for staying calm, stupid Abagail!

'Have a seat Abagail', she said.

There wasn't disapproval nor anger in her voice. I only rarely ever heard her speak so calmly, and I stress on the world rarely. She only uses that tone with me when there was potential 'adopters' she wanted to talk to me about.

I don't know why she tries to get me adopted. I have made it more than obvious on several occasions that I will not be living with strangers. And if she knew any better, she wouldn't send me to live with people she knew were going to be potential victims to my irrational teenage behavior.

'I don't want to be adopted', I firmly told her.

'I do not control who sees your profile.'

'Then take my details off that stupid website', I said desperately. 'Who knows what pedophiles are out there staring at my profile?'

She definitely sensed my desperation and for a brief moment I could see hesitation in her eyes. But she immediately got back her composure, and if it weren't for my strict attention to detail, I would have never seen her hesitate in the first place.

'I am only doing my job. The couple will be arriving in two days' time, and they are actually quite lovely. They are just going to meet you and if all goes well, we proceed for adoption.'

Damn you Rebecca Mathews!

I stared at her dark eyes and everything around me was a haze. All I wanted to do was wait for another moment of hesitation to occur so I can press my case further.

All I wanted from life was freedom; to find a job that will pay me high enough for me to go around the world and see what the walls of this orphanage couldn't ever provide. I wanted to build a home and fill it with all sorts of ornate furniture and vintage décor. I'll have a room for all the souvenirs that I've collected from across the world.

Every time a couple views my profile and thinks I was worth discovering breaks my heart a little. I fear that if they actually do decide to adopt me, despite me giving them hell, that they were going to force me into public school and then send me to college, beg to get married and have many children, and I'll feel obliged to do all those things because they are my "parents" and they gave me so much, so I have to fulfill their wishes.

I believe that blood is thicker than water. My parents gave me up for a reason, and I will not have them replaced no matter what the situation was. I have taken care of myself pretty darn well for the past fifteen years and I will not have my independency taken away from me no matter what… even if it's only for three years.

'You may leave', she said firmly, although I think there was a shudder in her voice.

I managed to break my stare and stood up. Anger consumed my chest and I really felt like punching someone. My fingers were tingling with rage and I balled my fists too tightly that my knuckles went pale. I considered punching her, but I decided it wasn't worth the trouble. For once in my life, I didn't act upon impulse.

'Just so you know, I'm going to give those people hell', I told her with such might in my voice that I scared myself.

But I didn't let it show. And with that I left her office and made my way back to my room. My anger sizzled down, and my hands grew out of their numbness.

I passed Suzan along the way and she told me to go to the kitchen and have lunch. I totally ignored her as I passed by her. And for once, she decided not to bother with me.

I slammed the door shut behind me and that scared Garfield. I went to pat the cat to make him feel okay. I couldn't believe the feelings churning in my chest. I envied the cat. At least he had someone to console him when he felt overwhelmed.

I didn't mind leading a solo life, but in times like these I really wished I had a person to talk to, other than the orphanage's shrink.

I poured the cat a couple of fish sticks in his bowl and went to do a little pouring of my own into my journal.

Dear Diary,

Lady Lucifer's got nerve. And balls way too large for my safety. How dare she put me under the spotlight again? Doesn't anybody get it in this god-damned place?! I DO NOT WANT TO BE ADOPTED. What sort of shitheads would want to adopt a fifteen-year-old anyway?! I'm too old for them to tune me into anything they want me to be. Having my profile on that stupid website sucks! I bet Lady Lucifer is just dying to get me out of her little sanctuary that she calls an orphanage. I bet she badgered those people into meeting me. Well, she should know better than to mess with me. GAME ON!