My New Home

I had spent nearly fourteen years in this sprawling orphanage, and at seventeen, I found myself on the precipice of liberation—just one more year before I could escape this place. Overall, it wasn't so terrible; the nuns could be harsh, occasionally resorting to sharp kicks, but I had endured far worse in my life. The vastness of the building was imposing, its cold corridors echoing with the whispers of children long forgotten. I still recalled my first day here, vivid and surreal, when I feared I would be conscripted into the church's fold. It was an orphanage, to be sure, merely linked to the church by proximity.

I never was a devotee even at times of hardship i'd endure it all thinking of myself as unfortunate and my awfully lonely life the cause of my parent's incorrigible and violent personalities. The thought of devoting myself to a being who had never reached out to me never crossed my mind. As i fell further into the depths of despair the only thing that had interrupted my vigilant mind was that i alone would suffice for myself and i did. I wasn't desperate for a savior nor a group of vigilantes. The only thing i needed was a friend who i wished would pull me out of this nightmare of a life. The only time i had felt the mighty being's presence had been the day of my parent's demise and i can see unfalteringly that the presence wasn't holy or warm. Work of the devil i believed at the time but the doubt that still stands in my mind is..what if the devil is the only superior being there is?

Adjusting to my new reality took time, yet eventually, I found my people—the only reason I hadn't leapt from my room window in despair. My family was a cacophony of violence, a tragedy that unfolded while I was at school. They had fought bitterly; my father's rage culminated in a single, lethal blow that ended my mother's life as she fell against the cutting board. The slicer, gleaming in the kitchen light, had claimed her life with a cruel finality. My father, consumed by his own terror of facing the family debts alone, followed her into the abyss soon after—not out of love or regret, but sheer fear.

Isn't it laughable? My family.

I had not shed a tear for their absurd deaths. The truth was, I did not love them. They say love for one's parents is instinctive, but I would contend that such a notion is sheer folly. I gazed upon their faces every day, each glance marred by a suffocating pain. I wished for their absence, yet they always returned. My grandmother eventually allowed me to stay with her after I had spent two rain-soaked days outside her door. She was no paragon of kindness, feeding me only once a day, yet I felt a semblance of gratitude. I found peace in her cold home, even as hunger gnawed at me; eventually, my stomach learned to quiet itself in resignation.

In the empty chapel, she clutched her rosary tightly, kneeling before the statue of Christ, fury simmering beneath the surface. The nun's gown swirled around her like a ghost, her aura of purity a stark contrast to the darkness she felt inside.

"Akena!" The sharp call jolted her from her thoughts. Sister Maria stood behind her, her presence as unwelcome as a storm cloud on a sunny day.

"Yes, Sister Maria!" She responded, the smile on her lips a mere veneer.

"Such a devoted girl you are," she said, her voice dripping with condescension. "Your beauty outshines every vile rat in this place, haha."

"Haha…" Akena forced the laughter, a hollow sound in the stillness.

"Have I offended you?" Her eyes gleamed with something she couldn't quite decipher.

"Oh, not at all," she replied, her tone deceptively calm.

"Ah! How forgetful of me," she continued, feigning innocence. "The priest requests your presence."

her heart quickened. Adoption? The very thought sent a thrill through her, yet she could see the flicker of displeasure in Sister Maria's expression as her smile faded into a grimace.

"Now, now, don't get too excited. High expectations make your fall all the more painful," she cautioned.

"When should I be there?" she asked, barely able to contain my eagerness.

"Two thirty this afternoon."

"Very well, Sister."

As she hurried away, Akena felt a wave of conflicting emotions crash over her. Turning back to the statue, she whispered fervently, "Dear Christ, I pray this is my chance to escape. If I stray from your path, know that you are forever carved into my heart. Amen."

She knelt again, a smile blooming despite the apprehension swelling within her. Thank you, she murmured, repeating the words as tears began to spill down her cheeks. Was this truly her time? Was she, at long last, on the brink of adoption after fourteen long years in this shadowed sanctuary?