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My name...? It used to be Samantha, back before. At least, I think it was. It doesn't matter now, anyway. All that matters is that I was saved from my old life, that world of misery and despair, of pain and troubles. That was the time in my years before I had a true home, and before I knew happiness. But let's back up a little, before I was rescued, when I was still living at that place of gloom. Sunny Side Orphanage. It was ironic how far from sunny it was.

I slammed my fist down into the bucket of suds and came up with a dripping sponge. I slapped it down on the hard wood floor and began scrubbing with a will.

"Hey," said Bethie with a worn smile. She was beside me, also on her hands and knees, wiping up the floor. She was six, just like me, and my closest friend here. I didn't know what I'd do without her.

Bethie sat back on her haunches and sighed, pushing a strand of hair from her tiny, gentle face, dusted with freckles and smudged with dirt. Her wavy brown hair was yanked into a neat knot at the back of her head. I bet Mary Ann had done that for her.

I plopped my sponge back into the bucket and stood, feeling the soreness in my legs. Mary Ann was the eldest among us, at twelve years old. She was the motherly figure all of us had yearned for. Mary Ann would look after us, comfort us when we were hurt or sick, and make sure we were all happy and clean.

But sometimes she worried me. Lately she'd been getting sick a lot, and getting tired easily. Her smooth, pretty face was nearly always exhausted and creased with sadness and worry now. It must be tough looking after eleven kids, I would think, noticing her stress. She always put us before herself, no matter how tired she was.

However, noticing Nancy scurry bravely across the floor with a duster in hand, I had to smile.
She was only four years old, the youngest at Sunny Side. Every night, it seemed, she cried herself to sleep, miserable and devastated, thinking about her parents. The rest of us had gotten over it. Our parents were either dead or missing or just didn't care about us. Nancy couldn't accept it yet. Mary Ann would hold Nancy gently in her lap, rocking her at night, when she really couldn't sleep, and cry for her, sometimes.

"Samantha? Do you need help?" said Judy concernedly, crouching beside me on the dusty wooden floorboards. She was only seven, and always more worried about other people than she was about herself. I wondered how anyone could give up a sweet little daughter like Judy.

Leah and Ruthie, the two sisters, worked side by side at the windows. They were the only blood siblings currently at Sunny Side. Leah, the elder sister, at nine, wet down the windows, as Ruthie, seven, swabbed the panes with a thin rag. Ruthie was quiet, obedient, and solemn, while Leah was friendly, giggly, and rebellious. Opposites though they were, they stuck together. Leah always looked after Ruthie.

Jane was smart; we looked up to her. She'd been at Sunny Side since she was three, and in the following eight years, she'd learned all the tricks of the orphanage. Jane could tell you where the floorboards creaked if you wanted to sneak around at night, she could explain to you what to say to Matron to get out of trouble, and she knew all the secret hiding places, like the out-of-the-way broom cupboards and the old dumb waiter down the hall.

Felicity was ten, a year younger, and just as headstrong and cunning. It was common to find her and Jane hanging around plotting something.

Alice was six, like me and Bethie. She was soft and lighthearted, and liked to daydream. On the day she'd been brought here by a governess, I tiptoed to the doorway and peeked through the keyhole. I watched as the governess told Alice to wait in the room. I saw the governess take the Matron's arm and steer her into the hall. "Her parents abandoned her here," I heard the snake-like hiss. and I saw something I would never speak of to Alice: the heartbroken, crushed look in her eyes, the crumpling of her face, as she also heard those dreaded words. I think Alice would've been of a different person if she knew she had parents who cared about her.

Eleanor was five and Polly was eight. They were both relatively new to Sunny Side and were adapting as well as anyone would have, in their situation.

It had become common for Nancy to run and snuggle up with Eleanor if she had a nightmare, that is, if she hadn't gone running to Mary Ann. Eleanor was no less tearful about her parents than Nancy was, but she was better at keeping her mind off it and focusing on other things. She was developing a close friendship with Nancy.

Polly was sweet, caring, and innocent. She gathered all of us together to cheer Mary Ann when she was in "one of her moods." At least that's what Jane called them. Polly helped with the chores when we were struggling and had a gift for empathy. She got along very well with Judy.

We became sisters, all of us. We had to, in order to survive.
(C) 2008