Splinters: Part One

Part One | 1

Chapter 1

A Visitor

I played with the food at the end of my fork, flipping it over from one side to the other. My left hand cupped my cheek, holding my head, my elbow propped up against the hardwood table as I sat and stared at the meal before me.

"Eat your food, Brayden," Mrs. Armstrong scolded.

"No."

"Eat your food," she repeated. If I hadn't known her all my life, maybe I'd be intimidated.

"I'm not hungry."

"Then you can starve until dinner after you meet Melissa."

I didn't pay attention to her. Mrs. Armstrong was a woman who'd been working at the orphanage for nearly thirty-two years now. She'd been here all my life and I doubt she had any plans to leave, which is shocking. I don't think she even likes her job, much less any of us. 

I was one of the very few fifteen, going on sixteen, year olds here. I was one of the few oldest ones. One of the others was J, but she was sent to a rehab facility last year after an "accident". I never knew her real name, but we always called her J. That's what she called herself. I haven't heard from her since the day before her attempt. And considering you can leave the orphanage at 16, I don't anticipate every seeing her again. If I knew the last time I'd see her was really the last time, I at least would have said goodbye. 

The oldest of us all was Jake. He was basically my best friend. He turned eighteen just five months ago and was able to stay for a year longer because he was terrified of living in a group home. Like J, I haven't seen him since the very day he packed his bag and left. There were days I really missed him. Today was one of them. 

The orphanage won't actually kick you out, persay, but they encourage "independence" once you're turned eighteen. Unless a miracle happens, I have three more years left.

Suddenly, the entrance door of St. Anne's Orphanage opened. I turned my head to see who the person was. A thin woman with dark brown hair pulled back into a ponytail stood with long black pants and a purple shirt. She was very business-like.

She was possibly my new mom.

The thought almost made me laugh. I've met so many of them, these kinds of women, all of whom wanted to adopt me, but none of them worked out. I didn't expect this one to be any different.

Mrs. Armstrong lifted herself from the table and advanced towards the woman. Speaking quietly, the two conversed for a moment before the woman came to me.

"Brayden, let's go speak with Melissa, okay?" she suggested sweetly.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Both of us knew that Mrs. Armstrong was praying that I leave this place. I couldn't help but pray with her, even though the action was almost pointless. We both knew what the outcome would be.

I stood up from my chair, finally taking in the proper appearance of Melissa Pierson. She had bright brown eyes, prominent cheek bones and an oval shaped head. She had an awkward but elegant look to herself.

She smiled at me, sighed, and then extended her hand out to me. It was almost like she'd been... waiting for me in a way. "Hi, Brayden."

I stared at her hand for a moment, slowly lifting mine, and then finally shaking hers.

"Hi."

There was a moment where only silence was heard in the room. I felt awkward until Mrs. Armstrong suggested we go to the Quiet Room. Usually, this was where we came to pray, or more blatantly, fake praying. When we entered the Quiet Room, I took a seat across from Melissa. She looked around the room, taking note of the Bible and the crucifix above the fireplace.