I looked down at the baby. She looked a lot like her mom with piercing green eyes. Her hair was just a bit darker and more red. I walked to the baby room of the orphanage. She, the baby, stayed perfectly quite the whole time, I was surprised. I placed her in one of the cribs in the baby room. I took the crumpled piece of paper from her hand. I opened the note and read what it said.
The little girl you've been holding is my baby, Leenor. Right now, I just can't take care of her and before I can I need to get my life back on track. I hope that when I am in the place that I want to be, I will find her or she will find me, just we will find each other. I just love her so much. Treat her well, please.
-Mariah
I folded the letter up. When I looked back down into the crib, Leenor was fast asleep. The letter interested me, saddened me, and left with a lot of questions. Should I ever give this letter to Leenor? Obviously her mother wants her to find her someday. Oh, I just didn't know.
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
Thursday, January 3, 2008
Runaway Part III
My name is Julie. I am a headmistress at Dwindley's orphanage. And I'm not sure if what I have just done was the complete right thing to do. You see, I just gave Leenor, an orphan, a letter, from her real mother, that I received when she was a baby. All this rambling probably doesn't make any sense to you, though. Here, let me start from the beginning about 11 years ago.
The doorbell rang, just once, the sound of it rang through the orphanage.
"Coming!" I yelled just in case the person thought no one was home.
When I opened the white door, a woman in between 20 and 23 years old, was standing there. She wasn't an amazing beauty but in a way she was, if that makes sense. Her eyes were bright, bright green! Auburn hair framed her face and her skin had a light golden tan. In her eyes, though, you could almost see a sadness, I did not know why, yet.
In her arms, there was a baby girl, or maybe I should call her an infant, I'd say she was about 2. In the infant's hand was a crumpled piece of paper. The woman, whose name I still did not know, handed me the child. She then turned and started to walk down the steps.
"Wait!" I shouted at her. "Wait, please, wait, what is your name?!" She did not turn around and she did not answer, she just kept walking away.
The doorbell rang, just once, the sound of it rang through the orphanage.
"Coming!" I yelled just in case the person thought no one was home.
When I opened the white door, a woman in between 20 and 23 years old, was standing there. She wasn't an amazing beauty but in a way she was, if that makes sense. Her eyes were bright, bright green! Auburn hair framed her face and her skin had a light golden tan. In her eyes, though, you could almost see a sadness, I did not know why, yet.
In her arms, there was a baby girl, or maybe I should call her an infant, I'd say she was about 2. In the infant's hand was a crumpled piece of paper. The woman, whose name I still did not know, handed me the child. She then turned and started to walk down the steps.
"Wait!" I shouted at her. "Wait, please, wait, what is your name?!" She did not turn around and she did not answer, she just kept walking away.
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