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Cold. Why is it so cold? I huddle deeper into the blanket, wrapping it around myself and exhaling shakily into the cool surface of the pillow. It’s so cold. There’s no warmth in this damn orphanage. Just scrawny little kids in scrawny little clothes with scrawny little personalities in this scrawny little building. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to remember the dream I had just been having. I had a family, with an older brother, younger sister, a mother and a father, and even a cheerful ol’ grandpa and a mellow, kind grandma. It was summer. My siblings and I were in the pool, playing tag with Mom and Dad, frantically dodging their outstretched hands and shouting happy shouts of “YOU CAN’T GET ME!” Grandma and Grandpa were lounging blissfully on the pool chairs nearby. Grandma had a new knitting project in her lap. It was a “swarf,” a combination of a sweater and a scarf. Grandpa was busy working on a crossword puzzle, muttering quiet profanities and shaking his head now and then. It was so warm in the pool. So warm, so nice... And then it’s cold. I can feel the dream slowly slipping away, trickling out of my hands like water, falling drop by drop into a never-ending abyss. I hear my family calling, “See you next time, Alix!” as I drift away, further and further and further…
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