CASSIE'S POV
Life in the orphanage was all I knew. Eight years had passed since I arrived here, since my mother left with the promise of returning in a hundred nights.
Now, at ten twelve old, those hundred nights had beco almost three thousand. But I was strong, I wouldn't break down just because I couldn't see her again.
Why am I thinking about this right now?
I wondered as the familiar sound of the six o'clock bell resonated through the hallways, marking the start of another day.
With a vigorous movent, I threw off my bed sheets while my gaze slid across the long hallways, flanked by twin beds. Since I arrived, the view was too familiar.
—Wake up, kids! Breakfast is ready!
I shouted with joy, raising my arms in the air and watching as my companions began to wake up slowly.
I watched as so children unconsciously lifted their heads, others yawned trying to chase away sleep, and the last ones stretched their arms forcefully to shake off drowsiness.
It was like a disorderly symphony of movents that repeated every morning.
My eyes landed on little Lulu, who was struggling with the buttons of her blouse while sleep still clouded her gaze.
I approached Lulu. She was seven years old, and her two beautiful pigtails fell over her chest while her clumsy little fingers tried unsuccessfully to complete her task.
It's like seeing myself from a few years ago, I reflected as I knelt in front of her.
From the corner of my eye, I caught a blonde flash: it was another of our little demons running as if his life depended on it, with a mischievous smile on his face. Behind him, a black-haired boy raised his arms like a ghost, making strange gestures.
I watched Thomas chasing him with raised hands, making his usual ghost gestures.
—Catch !
Thomas shouted, his voice mixing with the morning's laughs and yawns.
—No!
Jake responded between laughs, skillfully dodging the beds.
—Stop playing and get ready.
I heard one of the older girls, around eight or nine years old who was in the bed in front of mine, say.
Her serious voice contrasted with the general chaos, while she adjusted her black glasses on her nose.
—Cassie, I don't know how to put on my shoes.
Lulu's trembling voice pulled from my thoughts.
Before I could respond, two more pairs of tearful eyes joined her plea, small hands holding shoes as if they were incomprehensible treasures.
—A mont, don't cry.
I told them softly, the scene was quite familiar.
And before I knew it, I was now the oldest here. It wasn't just a matter of age; it was a responsibility that had grown naturally over the years.
Later, when we finally went out into the hallway, I found myself carrying one of the smallest, a brown-skinned boy with black hair who seed ecstatic to be in my arms.
The hallway bustled with activity with children of all ages.
The building we called ho was a labyrinth of spaces I knew like the palm of my hand: the cafeteria where we shared our als, the pantry that stored our culinary treasures, the classroom where we faced exams, the attic that guarded secrets from previous generations, the bathrooms and showers where I organized endless shifts, the infirmary I had visited more tis than I could count, the library where I took refuge on sad days, the playroom full of laughter, the music room where so found their voice, the storage rooms that held forgotten stories, and mama's... no, the mother superior's office, along with the caretakers' rooms.
In the hallway, I ran into Vinnie and little Lyra. Vinnie, with his dark skin and eight years of wisdom, guided Lyra with the sa gentleness I had learned to show.
Lyra, with her oval face and blonde pigtails, hugged her white teddy bear as if it were her anchor in this world.
—Good morning, Vinnie, and little Lyra.
I greeted them, noticing how behind them, in the bathroom, Leo, with his peculiar light blue hair, waited his turn next to Sofia, who showed the patience of her seven years.
—Good morning.
Vinnie responded, raising his right hand with a soft smile.
Lyra, for her part, gave one of those smiles that illuminated the entire room.
—Good morning, Cassie!
Arriving at the dining room, I felt the familiar relief of having achieved another successful morning.
—We made it in ti.
I declared with a bright smile.
Suddenly, I felt as if the world tilted beneath my feet. Soone had pushed hard, and my center of gravity threatened to send to the floor along with my small load.
I'm not going to fall, I'm not going to fall, I repeated to myself while juggling to maintain my balance.
Miraculously, I managed to stabilize myself while the little one skillfully jumped from my arms, landing with the grace of a cat.
Turning around, I found myself face to face with the two morning troublemakers, the black-haired and blonde ones, who looked at with angelic smiles that fooled no one.
Jake and Thomas, the two morning tornadoes, had decided it was the perfect ti for a surprise attack.
—Guys...
I narrowed my eyes, feigning an annoyance I had never really felt about their mischief.
—I'll eat you up!
I declared, opening my mouth threateningly and raising my arms while running after them. Their screams of fake terror mixed with laughter filled the hallway as they fled.
After our little chase, I returned to the dining room with Marcus stuck to my back, his small hand playing to cover my mouth in a ga that only we understood.
The dining room, with its three long tables, was the heart of our peculiar family. Reinhardt, my age-mate with reddish-brown hair, pushed the cart with the food pots, while Arceus, a year younger but taller than everyone, carried the milk jar.
—Good morning, Reinhardt, Arceus.
I greeted, maintaining my smile, they were my best friends.
—Good morning, Cassie.
Reinhardt responded with his usual kindness.
—Good morning.
Arceus's greeting ca accompanied by a contemptuous look.
Arceus has always been different, I thought while observing him. Taller and more robust than Reinhardt, he was the only one who dedicated himself to exercising regularly, for reasons known only to him.
—You have a lot of energy for not having eaten yet.
Reinhardt observed, his soft smile showing he understood my way of being perfectly.
—Are you five years old?
Arceus's comnt was accompanied by a cheeky smile.
I frowned and pouted, knowing I was only confirming his point but unable to avoid it.
—I'm older than you, Arceus.
I protested, though I knew it was useless as I watched him walk away through the dining room.
A lodious laugh beside made turn my head.
—You too, mama?
I asked with exasperation, finding Emilia's smile, her blonde hair framing her face while her black uniform blended with the orphanage's darkness.
Mom.
The word ca out of my lips naturally, as it always did when I addressed her.
She wasn't my biological mother, the one who had asked to wait a hundred nights and never returned, but she was the one who had filled that imasurable void in my heart.
Emilia, who never complained when we were noisy, shaless, botherso, annoying; who spoke animatedly with us without a single wrinkle of disgust on her face.
If a mother is the one who takes care of you, who feeds you, who worries about you, who gives you love, who warms your little heart without abandoning you... then Emilia is my mother.
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