Pain of the Innocent

Over the next few weeks since my escape I stayed at the bakery and made friends with the employees. They often gave me free samples and let me stay when it rained. They taught me and helped me when I didn’t understand things. They talked to me about their problems and I helped them. They also hid me from my aunt as this was her favorite bakery and came often when in need of bread and such.

I was ten when a social worker finally saw me. It was like any other day in the bakery. I and my friend Lucy, who was twenty-four, were chatting in French. A strict looking woman came in and I immediately felt her eyes upon me. Looking up I saw her bespectacled eyes narrowed at me. I narrowed mine back and went back to talking to Lucy.

Not five minutes later she came up to me and started to ask me questions.

“Is this your son miss?” the woman asked Lucy.

“Heavens no! He visits here often is all. Such a sweet little boy he is,” Lucy said in her natural French accent.

“Well then boy, where is your family?” the woman asked.

I flinched visibly at the word boy. “Dead,” was all I said.

“Then you should come with me. You should be in an orphanage young man, not bothering these poor people with your idiotic, childish shenanigans,” she said before grabbing my wrist and dragging me out despite both mine and the employees’ protests.

“They should know how to take care of you at the London Orphanage,” the woman, a social worker I now realized, said briskly.

She dragged me into her car and sped away, taking me to the orphanage. There was nothing I could do. She asked me question after question but I refused to answer. It was ten minutes later when we finally arrived at the orphanage. I hadn’t spoken a word since my previous protests against going.

The social worker dragged me out of the car. Then it hit me. My book-bag was still at the bakery! I started to struggle but the woman would have none of it. She abruptly slapped me to stop the struggling and she pulled a shocked and frightened me into the run down looking orphanage.

We were greeted by a large woman with shoulder length curly blonde hair and a fake smile plastered on her face. With disgust I noticed that she wore an dress made for women with a figure. She looked like a large grey ball.

I sneered at the woman and she slapped me as well. I schooled my face but my eyes betrayed my fear. The women sneered down at me.

“Here, mister, you don’t disrespect your superiors. Got it? Now what is your name boy?” the large woman snapped.

Thinking quickly, I thought of a new name. The name Harry just wouldn’t cut it if you wanted respect; it was far too common a name. I had wanted a new name for a while now but only then did I need it.

“Vince,” was all I said.

The both women nodded and the large one led me into the orphanage. All around there were other kids talking amongst themselves and playing. I was led to a room at the end of a long hallway. In the room there were two bunk beds pushed up against opposite walls, each had a threadbare gray blanket and a worn out pillow. A dresser was next to the door. There were three other boys already there.

One boy with dirty blonde hair and large blue eyes looked up at me from the floor and smiled. He looked to be about three or four. There was something about him…

“My name is Ms. Keen and you will treat me with respect young man. You will do as you are told. Here is your room. Introduce yourselves. I’ve got work to do,” Ms. Keen said.

She walked out and I walked in. I walked over and sat on my bottom bunk. The others watched me as though checking to see if I was a threat. I inwardly smirked at this; of course I was a threat, I killed a man for god’s sake!

A tall black boy with black hair and brown eyes, who looked to be about sixteen, walked over and held out his hand, “My name is Jalen. And yours is…?” the boy, Jalen, said arrogantly.

I sneered up at him. “None of your business now is it?”

Jalen looked taken back. Apparently nobody had ever spoken to him like that, none the less a nine year old.

“Now you see here, I’m in charge of this place. You’d do well to respect me before you get hurt!” Jalen growled.

I yawned. “Wow, ‘bout as impressive as that Keen woman’s speech. Keep it up and you might just match it,” I drawled.

His face turned red with anger as the rest watched with amusement. This probably didn’t happen every day if it even happened at all.

“You watch yourself or you could get in some serious trouble boy!”

I smirked. “And just what are you going to do? Nothing, that’s what. There’s more to me then meets the eye boy, so stay out of my way and you won’t get hurt.”

He looked as though he was going to say something but instead he just stomped out of the room. I knew he would get me back, or at least he would try to get me back. Now’s the time to show them who’s really in charge of this place.

“That was awesome!” said some kid.

I scowled up at them. “Now I’m sure you’re just dying to introduce yourself to me so go right ahead.”

He grinned and held out his hand. “Nathanial Greene.”

Nathanial had black hair and green eyes. He wore clothes that were too small for him and his teeth were yellow from neglect. He was short and appeared to be eleven.

“And this,” he said pointing to the youngest in the room “is Timmy. He’s only four years old. His parents died a few months ago.”

Nathanial’s hand was still outstretched. I guess I did need friends. I shook his hand. He beamed at me.

“Can he talk,” I said, gesturing to Timmy.

“Not that any of us know of.”

Timmy had blonde hair and blue eyes. He beamed up at me with those big, shining eyes of his that could make the hardest of men go soft. Timmy walked over to me and sat down next to me on the bed.

“Hello Timmy, my name is Vince,” I said.

Timmy giggled. I bent down with a mischievous glint in my eye and then I attacked. I tickled Timmy and sent the young boy into gales of laughter. Soon Nathanial joined in.

Nathanial and I stayed up half the night talking about random things. As it turns out we both love to read. The only difference was that he loved to read fiction while I limited my reading to more useful subjects. Jalen ignored us as he came in for bed. It was after three o’clock before we went to sleep. For the first time I slept a peaceful sleep. It felt so good.

So this was what it was like to have friends other then older women and men at a bakery.

A/N: Yay! Forth chapter up! Hope you liked it. There was a tie in the poll for names so I just picked one I’d never seen used before which would be Vince, which means ‘conquering’. Like it, love it, hate it? Plz review!