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Introductions, introductions. They always seem so pointless unless you’re a ‘somebody’.
To keep it short my name is Crystal. For as long as I can remember my brother and I have been stuck inside of an orphanage. Pete is my last remaining family member that the authorities and we know of. I should have attempted to make a point of that in the previosu chapter but you probably would have just thought that I was being a stupid angsty teenager. Our closest taste of escape was two months after we arrived here and I was two and Pete was four. Grandma was coming to adopt us so we could be brought up in the countryside. We were told that the plane that she was flying in had crashed on the way, killing of the passengers aboard. We may as well have the Series of Unfortunate Events written after us.
I’ve never really had the opportunity to hate my parents like a lot of lucky people get to do. I imagine that would have been really weird, and I would not have done it.
Besides, I’m sure it should be impossible to hate somebody that you’ve never met in living memory.
Over the years we had spent at the orphanage we had seen hundreds of people get adopted and there was not ever one glance sideways in Pete and I’s direction. I don’t blame them, even the people looking after us don’t like us.
I won’t hold back my hand at all. Living in an orphanage makes you a little tough. Whether you choose to go around smashing everybody is your own choice really. It’s obvious that I’m not a big fighter. Pete is.
The other kids in the orphanage would always fight over who got the bed with the lumpy mattress or there would be stupid pointless trials where they would try and find the bedwetter. P.S I was not the bedwetter.
I often feel like there is no reason to fight back. The person is still going to hate me. And where am I supposed to get in the future anyhow? Blowing on a brown jug, busking in the gutter for just a few pennies. I know it sounds stupid but I’m only alive to make sure Pete’s alive. He makes it clear it’s the same that it’s the same around the other way also.
We’re just the two rejected kids in the orphanage, looking overgrown in the clothes that are still too big. The weak links who can never make it up the dinner line to get seconds on meatloaf fast enough. The misfits who try and collect toothpaste caps for something to do. The sad kids who watch as people are adopted too many times.

So the next day that all ended.
The next day Pete and I left the orphanage, leaving to school like usual but then taking the path into the center of town.
We were planning to head East, as close to Los Angeles as possible. In stupid hope that maybe some big time Hollywood producer would think that we had some sort of potential and then give us a warm home with no mouldy blankets. We both knew that the chances were stupidly slim for that ever happening to anybody but anything had to be better than continually being accused of being a bedwetter and being beaten up by the head cheerleader. Right?
In reality, Pete and I were more likely to catch a flu that would eventually kill both of us or get hit hit by a car.
I justy try and live by Pete’s life mantra, “Get busy living or get busy dying”
It makes sense anyway and when I say that he smiles. So it’s worth remembering.






Next chapter will get better. Keep reading, it's here for you.