• I felt it again. That edge in the back of my throat. I’m here it’s too stubborn to go away. Tears threaten to leak from my eyes. Once that happens, there was no stopping it until my body shuddered and flickered out like a burnt out light on my bed. I would stay curled up, on my bed until sunrise and wait for the tenant to bustle in and wake me and get me ready for the people looking to adopt a useless brown haired average girl like me but I had been here for my entire life. The edge never leaves; the pain of a loner never leaves that empty space in my heart as long as I’m here. I’ve been to many foster homes and nobody wants a dark quiet girl with unusual grey eyes with blue here and there. I don’t talk much. What do I have to say? “My name is Hazel and I live in an orphanage! How exciting!” No, I keep to myself. Always have. Always will.


    I don’t need friends. Why do people have friends? Why do they want friends? I prefer to be alone so I can think. I don’t leave my room unless I have to. It has all I need; a bathroom, a bed and food. I don’t need company. I don’t need to be looked after. I don’t need anything. Nothing. Why would I? I am an orphan. Orphans are alone. We are loners. Okay, maybe I am exaggerating a bit; I have friends well, a friend. She lived next door to a foster home I went we exchanged e-mail before I left. That was 4 years ago, I haven’t seen her since then but we still talk sometimes through e-mail. But I haven’t spoken to her in a few months. Oh well I guess I don’t need friends after all.