My Sanctuary by Sarah-Jane Lehoux

I guess I’m naming a lot of names. Sorry for that. I got a lot to say so I’m rushing. That’s my biggest problem, I think. I get ahead of myself.

But don’t worry yourself keeping track of who’s who and what’s what.

There’re lots of us in the orphanage, and even more at the public school we go to—kids who have parents and live in houses, and make fun of us who don’t have either. I don’t know all their names, and I don’t suppose they know mine. So they ain’t important.

The only names I want you to remember are mine and little Kenneth Booker’s. Kenny is my baby, you see.

Well, not really. He’s too grown to be mine for real. And besides that, if you ask him, he’d tell you he’s my boyfriend. But to me, he’s my baby and he’s my reason for everything.