|The Orphan Boy
Author: WallflowerNerdGirl PM
I was at orchestra practice tonight (February 13 2013) and we were playing a song called Rosamunde Overture and in the beginning there is a part where it sounds like a haunted ballroom in an old hotel were a violinist and dancers continue to live there life at er death. This is where I began formulating this story.Rated: Fiction T - English - Tragedy/Friendship - Chapters: 2 - Words: 901 - Updated: 02-26-13 - Published: 02-13-13 - id: 3100759
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
The Orphan Boy
Hello. I am ten years old. My name is Lorne. Which is perfect because it means alone. And I am an orphan. My parents never wanted me. I was born in their home and immediately after I was born, my father took me and left me in an alley. I was taken in by a homeless man named Aniket. I called him Uncle A. One day I went to explore, I returned when I heard the sound of police sirens. Uncle A was being arrested. I never found out the reason. From then on, I've been on my own. That was three years ago.
I no longer live in the alley. I live in an old hotel in the dirty part of town. No one ever comes here. I live on the third floor, traveling in and out of the building by the fire escape. I'm too scared to walk in the front door, through the first floor windows, I can see things. People may say I have an active imagination and it's all just child nonsense, but I know that it's so much darker than that. I'm very mature for my age and with everything I've been through in my short life, I would say I'm pretty wise too.
A few days ago, I threw my wisdom and judgement out the window. I had an urge to explore and I was going to satisfy it. I climbed down the fire escape and walked to the right side of the building. The frame was sturdy, but it was missing a few bricks here and there and some of the windows were shattered.
I went over to a dusty window low enough to the ground that I wouldn't have to stretch to see in. I wiped my hand across the ancient glass and was glad to be able to see so clearly into the building. But my happiness faltered. I was looking into and old ballroom. I saw the violinist before I heard the eerily sweet music.
The violinist was a tall, skinny figure. I could just distinguish it as a man. The figure was a black wispy shadow, gracefully taking steps around the ballroom in time with his music. He made a round and stopped in front of my window. I was a little frightened but I held my ground. He used his hand to beckon me forward. I couldn't resist, I climbed through a paneless window into the haunted ballroom.
Thinking back on this I have to chastise myself. Haven't I learned that exploring can only lead to no good?