“What!?” I said weakly. I looked up. Mrs. Glavini was standing right there in front of me!
“Her name is Mrs. Annabelle Chay”
“What!?”I said again.
“She’ll be coming any moment.”
Just then there was a knock on the door. Everyone scampered to pick up clothes and toys off the floor and put them in their trunks. Then they ran to their or their friends beds and talked or read.
In came a skinny woman with long strawberry blond hair and clear, crystal blue eyes. She was wearing black flats and designer jeans. On the top she had an old paint shirt and a cute black jean jacket over it. Her brand new, red designer handbag glittered in the damp, dark lights. She walked over to my bed, shook hands with Mrs. Glavini, gave her a nod, and Mrs. Glavini walked away. I felt dazed. She looked at my clipboard for 3 or so minutes, frowned, and threw it back on my trunk. Then she smiled at me, sat down on my bed, and held out her hand.
“Hi,” she said, “I’m Mrs. Annabelle Chay.”
I took her hand, shook it, and said, “I’m-”
“You must be Laura Jacobson. I’m glad I finally get to meet you.”
I smiled. That was the first time I had in weeks. “Hi Mrs. Ch-”
“Please, call me Annabelle.”
I liked that. “Yes, Annabelle”
“I’m here because I want to adopt a child. Will and-”
“Will?” I asked.
“My husband. Will and I don’t have any children. We’ve been thinking about adopting for a while now. I looked up meadowpondorphanage.org, and searched girl, 12 years old, and found you and another girl named Josie Marie Allen.”
“That’s my best friend! Her, over there!” I squealed excitedly.
“Oh,” said Annabelle interestedly.
“Mrs. Ch– Annabelle,”
“Yes, dear?”
“Why me?”
“Pardon me?”
“Why me? Girl, 12 years old, Meadow Pond Orphanage?”
“Well, I’ve always wanted 2 gir-”
“Pardon me, but 2, ma’am”
“Yes, I have to talk to that Josie girl, too”
I screamed, all heads turned to me, and Mrs. Glavini stormed into the room.
“Get off me.”, “I can’t play tic-tac-toe right now.” Laura. Laura Swan Jacobson. My name is Laura Swan Jacobson, brown haired, glasses wearing, girl. I live in Meadow Pond Orphanage in the UK. My bedroom is girls room C. It is so annoying.
We sleep on cold, gray, army-like cots. The mattresses are hard, and the sheets are unappealing, and have lost their original pink color. We have flimsy grey pillows and too-thick quilts. We get extra blankets in the winter, though. Every person gets a medium sized trunk at the end of their beds, and a wooden night table and a rubbish pail. Each table has a lamp on it, but there aren’t any other lights in the whole entire place.
I am literally stuck with a bunch of babies in the room. Everyone is, like, 5. I’m 12!! The only other person in room C that is my age is my best friend Josie. She isn’t the brightest, but I try to help her out as much as I can.
Our school here is fine, but it’s, like, 1890’s. I swear, it’s, like, 2 person desks with inkwells (not that we use them).
We have a strict teacher for our level, too. Her name is Mrs. Glavini. She totally yells at us when we raise our hands to sharpen our pencils.
Oh, how I want to get out of this place. People come and have conversations with me all the time, but I never see them again. They sometimes read my clipboard. I hate the clipboards. Every person has one on their trunk. It’s like a hospital. It has info about the person on it. What they like to do, etc. Here’s part of mine:
Laura Swan Jacobson
Birthday:November 9th, 1997
Grade Level:6thGrade
Grade Average:Straight A Student
What She likes to do for fun:Read, talk with Josie, school, be alone
What she wants to be:an author
… and more. Having clipboards at the end of our beds just reminds me of a hospital. I hate hospitals more than I hate clipboards.
People normally go into the nursery. Babies. People love babies. Everyone wants a baby. No one wants an almost teen age girl. I’m almost 13, 12 and 10/12 years old. People sometimes consider adopting me, but I never hear from them again.
“Hi”, she said. “Hi”, I said, not looking up from my book. “Someone is here to see you.”
…To be continued
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