Chapter 1

Annelyn Martin

Fifteen years ago...

"Stay quiet!" My mother said as she dragged me by the arm into a chilling building. I didn't want to go. Even though I had never been in that place before, I knew it. I knew what it was about, even though back then I was only six years old.

"Mom, please... Don't leave me here," I whimpered, scared. Selfishly, she ignored me, continuing to pull me. I could barely keep up with her strides; she walked quickly with her long legs, as if she were running from something. And indeed, she was running from the responsibility of being a mother.

"I can't stay with you. I wasn't made for this!" With brutality, she released my red and sore arm. "You'll get a new family. Real parents. And if you're lucky, you'll have a better mother than me."

The woman with long black hair, a well-sculpted body, and a downcast expression opened the designer bag she carried on her left shoulder, taking out some documents from inside.

"Take these. Give them to whoever comes to pick you up. I have to go now."

"Mom, no..." I wiped away the tears that were flowing persistently.

"Take them!" she ordered, forcing me to take the papers. Hesitantly, I accepted. "Take care, little girl. Maybe one day, I'll come back to see you."

With her final words, she left the building, walking to her new boyfriend's blue car.

"Mom!"

Terrified, I ran towards her, leaving the orphanage, but she didn't even look back and abandoned me. The blue car quickly disappeared.

Alone, left on a cold night in London, I sat on the steps of the building and buried my face in my knees. I didn't understand why I was being abandoned. I always knew my mother was not like the others. While the mothers of the children at my school devoted themselves entirely to their children, mine spent most of her time high, forcing me to learn to fend for myself.

Sometimes, I wondered what Jacob, her ex-boyfriend, had seen in her. While she was chaos, he was the opposite. Thanks to him, I learned how to make instant noodles and how to boss around the convenience store clerk. I know that maybe it's not something to be proud of; a six-year-old shouldn't act as if they were already independent due to their parents' irresponsibility. But at least I learned that just because someone shares your blood, it doesn't mean they'll care about you.

Despite all this, something made me glad; knowing that Jacob was smart enough to leave my mother before she drove him crazy. Because that's how she was. She drained people until there was nothing left of them. That's how it was with my father, my uncle, the neighbor, and the dozens of boyfriends she had. And, thinking about it, maybe living in this orphanage is a better option than continuing to live with her.

"Annelyn?"

A soft voice approached. I remained with my face buried in my knees.

"My name is Agatha," she said, but I didn't pay attention. "It's cold out here. Come inside. I can make you some hot chocolate."

Instantly, my stomach rumbles upon hearing her. I hadn't eaten since morning. I was surviving on just a bowl of milk and cereal. But I still felt content to have had at least one meal.

"Look, I understand that you're scared right now. But the shelter is a very comfortable place. And there are other children here for you to play with."

Seeing that I remained quiet, the stranger thought of a new tactic.

"What do you like to do?"

"Drawing."

"Hmm, so we have an artist here?" she teased. "Did you know we have a little drawing room?"

I raise my head, curious, and soon the tears stop flowing. The young woman, with short curly hair, looked at me with a radiant smile. It was the first time an adult had smiled at me like that.

"If you want, I can show you."

Without questioning, I nod my head. She gets up and extends her hand to me. Without hesitation, I take it.

And there, the construction of my future self began...

***

One week later...

Adapting to the orphanage was a tough start. It felt like I was a piece out of place on the board. I was used to spending most of the day alone at home and having a room all to myself. But now I had to share everything with the other children, who were too young to understand that I didn't want to play all the time. I preferred to be alone because that way, I could read and let my imagination soar through the drawings I created. Since I had to mature before my time, drawing became a refuge for me. With a few colored pencils, I created the perfect family, where there was love, joy, and honesty.

All my drawings were kept in a little notebook with pink flowers on the cover, which I hid under the mattress so that no one would find it, because I didn't want them to think I was desperate to be adopted. Although I liked the idea of finding a family that loved me deeply, I was afraid. Afraid that one day they would get tired of me, just like my mother did. That's why I didn't feel sad when the couples who came to the orphanage left me behind. On the contrary, I was happy because I knew I would have more time with Aunt Agatha. She was the nicest and most fun person I had ever met.

I step down from the stool by the sink after brushing my teeth, after breakfast, and walk back to my room. All the children were playing in the garden, so that meant I had a moment to be alone. Something I loved.

Upon entering the room, I startle to see a boy.

A boy? He shouldn't be here... that was the first thing I thought.

"Hey! Who are you? What are you doing here? In case you didn't notice, this is the girls' room!" I cross my arms, looking at him seriously.

The boy, sitting on one of the ten beds, raised his gaze to me. He had something in his hands. Curious, I stood on tiptoe to try to see what it was, and when I noticed the pink flowers, it was almost impossible not to scream and rush to the middle bed.

That boy had my drawing notebook.

"Give it back!" I pull the notebook from his hands, managing to retrieve it. "Where did you find it?" I say a little loudly, hugging the object to my chest.

"Relax, I won't tell anyone."

"And how can I be sure?" I say suspiciously.

"Do you think anyone will care about your drawings of the perfect family?" he arched his eyebrows. "You're in an orphanage!"

"What do you mean by that?" I narrowed my eyes.

"That the people who work here will hand you over to the first family that shows interest in you, regardless of what you think is a 'perfect family' or not!"

"You're arrogant!"

A smile appeared at the corner of his lips as he got up from the bed and approached me. He was a little taller than me, but I didn't think about stepping back, continuing to stare at him seriously.

"Am I arrogant just because I told the truth?" he arched his eyebrows, still with a smile on his lips.

And before I could retort, a woman appeared in the doorway of my room.

"I found you," she entered and walked quickly to the boy. "Let's go." Without looking at me, she grabbed the boy's arm, pulling him hastily out of the room.

That scene made me relive the worst moment of my life, when my mother brought me here...

***

"You again?" I rolled my eyes upon seeing the same little boy from before, sitting on the same bed a week after we had first met. "I thought I told you that this room is for girls." I crossed my arms, looking at him seriously.

The boy didn't respond, keeping his gaze fixed on the item in his hands. I lowered my gaze, looking curiously at what he had in his hands, and when I recognized what it was, I was immediately surprised.

"Wait..." I approached him. "Do you also have a drawing notebook?" My eyes were wide open, not believing that this arrogant boy had something in common with me.

"You're not the only one wishing for a perfect family," he looked at me. His eyes were a bit shiny, as if he was about to cry but was trying to hold it back.

I took a deep breath before deciding to sit beside him.

"That woman... Is she your mother?" I glanced at him sideways, seeing him shake his head.

"She died."

"Oh! I'm sorry," I looked at him. "At least she didn't abandon you. Like mine did."

"I'm sorry," he returned my gaze.

I nodded and stared at the bed in front of us.

"I didn't get to know my mother. She died when I was very young. Since then, my grandma takes care of me. But when she can't, she hires a babysitter."

"And your father?"

"I don't know. My grandma says he left shortly after my mother died. He couldn't bear to know she was gone."

"That's as sad as being abandoned in an orphanage," I pursed my lips to the side, a little sad. "Speaking of which, what are you doing here? It's the second time I've seen you."

"My babysitter works here. So she brings me with her. My grandma doesn't mind because of the other kids. She says I should make friends."

"Well... If you stay in this room, you won't make any."

"And neither will you."

I look at him curiously, and soon an idea crosses my mind.

"You looked at my notebook, so I think it's fair that I see yours."

"You can look," he hands it to me, "but my drawings aren't as good as yours."

"Do you think my drawings are good?" I feel my cheeks blush.

"Yes. You could be an artist when you grow up."

I couldn't hide my smile upon receiving a compliment.

And on that day, for the first time, I had a friend. A friend I would take with me for a lifetime... if he had come back again.