After generations of men in the Giordano family, the idea of a baby girl was a mere dream.
So when their first and only princess was born, they believed they had found peace.
Finally, the world was extending an olive branch.
She doesn't remember a...
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I don't remember my life before the orphanage.
As a matter of fact, I didn't even know I had one until a couple of weeks ago.
I grew up there. The staff were supposed to be my parents, and the two hundred kids to be my brothers and sisters. We were joined together by cruel fate, but that didn't mean we liked each other.
I was lucky enough to have Ares, Theo and Jace, because I don't know how I would've survived there alone.
Everyone there was troubled, every single one. The quiet and shy got adopted, while the rest of us got sent back after no family wanted to keep us.
I was adopted sixteen times before I turned ten, a record I used to brag about. It hurt, of course, but pissing off Ms. Myra was just too much fun.
Ms. Myra was an old, religious lady who believed her destiny is to make us, the unfortunate souls, decent human beings.
Every time we did something wrong, she'd fire her wooden cane at us, hitting until she felt like we learned our lesson.
We got so used to it, that eventually we didn't care. Getting caned became a part of our day, and she seemed to realize that.
Shortly after I turned ten, the punishments took a turn. It was no longer a lecture, a hit, and washing the dishes until we pass out.
No, she knew those things didn't stop us.
The education staff were not good people. Have you ever seen the movie Matilda? Well, let's just say we had more of Ms. Trunchball's rather than Ms. Honey's.
I'm sure the only reason they worked there was because they knew they could hurt us and get away with it.
And that's just what they did. After they received the green light, every time Ms. Myra decided we shamed her and ourselves, it was their turn to teach us a lesson.
Not doing your chores? A sprained ankle. Getting caught sneaking out of your room at night? A broken shoulder. You get the idea.
My main nightmare didn't have a name. Not one that I knew, at least. Some kids called him the Bogeyman, so it was only a matter of time before everyone decided to call him Bo, for short.
As a child, I always thought he was a nurse, someone who looked at me and the others just to make sure we didn't hurt ourselves.
Man, was I wrong.
Bo was the one who enjoyed hurting us the most, and wherever I went, his eyes were on me.
I told myself that I'm only imagining it, but apparently Jace noticed that too. Back then I didn't understand why he began to take the fault for things I did, but now I know.
He didn't want Bo anywhere near me.
When I was twelve and Jace finally turned eighteen and was forced,or blessed with the opportunity, to leave, I understood why too well.
