Oh, it was just another hustle-bustle day at Dwindley's. With all the toddlers playing their games of tag, out in the sun. A few teenage boys playing on the old video game console, in the living room. Their eyes stuck to the screen of the small 17" T.V. Then, there was me, alone in my room listening to my radio, and in a way spacing out. I had started to think about what type of people my parents were. I was hoping they were not people who dropped me off years ago, and had forgotten about me by now. I hoped that they were nice people, that would come to Dwindley's tomorrow and take me "home." Whatever that really is.
Suddenly, my thinking was disrupted, by the sound of the creaking hinges on my door, someone was opening it. I looked towards it. Julie, one of the headmistresses at Dwindley's, was standing in the doorway, holding a piece of paper. She had a slight smile on her face, but a nervous look in her eyes. She walked over to me and handed me the piece of paper.
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