Being alone in this world sucks, and don’t let anyone tell you different. It’s horrible as a little kid, and even worse as a teenager.
As I sat and stared at the small picture in my hand, one I’d kept in my jacket pocket for almost nine years now, my mind raced to California. I wished for maybe the thousandth time that I could just make my dad instantly appear by my bed and stand beside me like he was in the photograph.
But that was the way of fairy tales, and not the nightmare I lived on a daily basis.
“Meal time, ladies,” one of the older boys, Abe, called out. He always acted as if we were in the military rather than the orphanage we all lived in, The New York Charitable Orphanage for Wayward Boys and Girls. I wouldn’t say we called this place home, because I still had far better memories of a home, two homes in fact.
Unfortunately, fate had dealt me an ugly hand of cards, twice in a row, even worse than the ones Abe dealt us during our illegal poker games after lights were out for the night.
Not to worry, I do plan on coming back to post another snippet from this one next week. But why wait? Pick up a copy of Escape using the links above!
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