Liz's life went well until a bomb exploded beneath her and her family's house. The explosion left Liz as a orphan, and the charming little yellow cottage that her family lived in to thousands of pieces. Liz was shipped off to a orphanage in America, where she finds a new home, but it was never the same as a previous one.
I never expected it. Never knew it was going to happen. But it just happened on a very, very normal spring day. So normal that someone could say that that spring day was suspicious. I had the right to say it aloud, but it would be weird. So I just sat there on the porch, watching the spring buds grow and the birds chirp by. But it wasn't a happy chirp. It was an alarming chirp. And right then, a boom rang out. Under me. The world went flying. The ground went flying. Our house went flying. I hit the ground hard enough to split my head apart in four equal pieces, but instead, I got knocked out.
I woke up in a white room. It was blurry at first, but then my vision came to focus. I cried out, as the pain in my flesh was so sharp I felt that a thousand sharp teeth were piercing my skin. I heard murmurs,
"She's awake!''
"And alive!"
"Get her water!"
These voices were unfamiliar, and so was the room I was in. It wasn't my bedroom that had yellow walls and a yellow bed with an orange lamp and a desk, it was a white room with a white bed and a- wait... I was in the hospital!
"Hey girl, are you okay?"
My drooping eyes looked up to see a doctor.
"What happened?" I asked.
"There was a bomb explosion-"
"What happened to my parents?"
There was silence. I was ready to knock the guts out of him.
"What happened to my parents?" I repeated.
"I'm sorry, dear girl, they perished."
There was an awful silence
"Perish," The doctor cleared his throat, "means died."
"I know it means 'died'." I sputtered out.
"I'm sorry, girl."
"My name is Liz," I snapped.
The doctor looked troubled.
Now, I'm not usually that rude, well, I'm not rude at all, but there was anger, a new kind of anger I have never felt before... it was a feeling, a mixed-up feeling. Sadness. Anger. Fear. I tried to move, though my flesh cried out in protest. I felt like my body had been on fire.
"You broke your arm, and you had some stitches on your legs," The doctor explained.
I looked down. My arm was in a cast. I looked up at the ceiling, tears blinding my sight.
"I'm sorry, girl, I'm sorry." I heard the doctor mutter again.
"My name is Liz," I said, well, at least I said it in my head. Mom and dad were gone now. Our house was gone. I was an orphan. Parentless. I buried my head in the blankets - which didn't feel familiar nor warm- and cried.
