Orphanage

Snap!

That was the sound I heard after the wicked old man slammed the branch against my bare back. The snap of the stick breaking echoed through the empty halls of the deserted building. I was relieved it broke, because it meant that my beating was over.

"Darn you, you bloody child!" The caretaker raged, veiny eyes staring at the one half of the stick in his hand, which he had he used to beat me up with, "You broke my stick!"

Ironic, I thought as I recalled what had happened that day in the so-called abandoned orphanage. I only understood the meaning of irony now that I thought about it, because back then I only had the little knowledge of an illiterate cleaner, who had spent her entire life, cleaning the filthy floors of the prison-like building.

The Caretaker threw the one-half of the broken stick to the ground, and swung his hand with great force onto my cheek. As I tumbled to the ground, a trickle of blood dripped from my nose. That was the tenth slap I got that day. No, fifteenth? I didn't know how to count, so it didn't matter. All I knew was that my cheeks had gotten used to the painful impact of his hand. And he enjoyed every single second of it.

"You better clean that blood off my floor, you whore!" He threw a stained cloth, which he had taken out from his underwear, onto my bruised face "And you better hurry up. We've got some business to take care of tonight, you hear me?"

I shuddered at his words as he walked away from me, a smile loaded with pride on his face. He was finally done with me. For now, I mean.

This has been going on, day in and day out since I was 5, and I had just turned 16. Not that I kept track, but the Caretaker was pleased to tell me that I had finally turned 16. Not that he was proud of me, but because I had become a matured teenager with a body shaped by puberty, and full boobs that made him hungry for me. He didn't get me anything for my birthday. Instead, he took something from me that any women in this world valued: my virginity. I had lost my virginity to a lousy old man who knew nothing but to think about women every second he got in his limited life span.

I hoped he dies soon.

I had no say in anything. The orphanage is my only home. The caretaker provided me with, at least, the leftovers of his lunch. It wasn't much, but it got me to live for the next day. I was told that my real parents had abandoned me in an expensively-branded handbag on the side of a road, hoping that someone would steal the handbag with me in it. I had no clear memory of my childhood, which was why I didn't hesitate to believe that story.

I still couldn't believe that the Caretaker was the one, out of all living beings in Korea, who managed to get hold of the handbag. The question though, is did he steal it, or did he take it because he had a thought that he might coincidentally find a random baby in a Gucci handbag at the side of the road? I don't think anyone needs to answer that one.

Ever since the day I entered the orphanage, life was like death itself. The more the Caretaker beat me up, the more I feared not waking up the next morning. My pale skin was painted with more blue and purple bruises each day. Some healed, but some remained fresh, since the Caretaker often hit me in the same places. I had always wondered if not waking up the next day would be such a bad thing. Would not waking up in the orphanage on the frosty, damp floor with a blanket, thinner than a layer of one ply tissue, be so bad?

I wouldn't have to clean the dented walls, the faeces-stained toilets, and the floors anymore. I wouldn't have to get beaten up nor get raped ever again in my life. I wouldn't have to be tied up to a pillar like a dog and---

"Hey!" The Caretaker had returned, holding a brand new stick he had probably picked up from outside. I imagined how excited he might've gotten when he found it. "What are you still doing on the floor?"

"I-i cleaned up the blood as told," I stuttered, not daring to look him in the eye.

"That's not what I asked!" He snapped, swirling his stick onto my back and earning a scream from me.

"Mhm... oh how I adore the sound of your scream. Come here."

He knelt on the ground, dug his fingers into my hair, and started smooching me roughly. His breath tasted as if he hadn't brushed his teeth for days. I doubt he ever brushed his teeth, because all he did was stare at me like the pervert he was while I cleaned every day.

He breaks the kiss between us and scans my body.

"Is that a bra I see?" He asked, standing up and grabbing his stick, "Are you wearing a bra?!"

Oh no.

Ever since I became a teenager with medium-sized boobs, no bras allowed became a new rule. That moment I knew I was going to get it bad.

"In my office, now!"

I was filled with fear that very moment. No one wanted to go to the Caretaker's office, ever! Something no one like me would ever want to deal with was behind that door.

All his equipment to beat me was in that room. There were bats, ropes, belts, you named it. There were so many of them, only a few got the opportunity to bruise my body. I had been there several times before, but each time was a different experience. My first experience in that room was horrific, terrible, scary, and many more words to describe anything as bad as it.

I sat there on the ground, not moving an inch due to fear. Fear has always been the owner of my body and mind. There was no way of firing fear. Instead, fear fires me and hires many more negative emotions like my depression and grudges for life.

I wished I was never born.

"Kim Hyun Gi." Him saying my name made me feel more uncomfortable than I already was. "I don't like repeating myself. I said, get into my office, NOW!"

His voice echoed through the empty corridors again. I should've killed myself ages ago when I had the chance.

I got up from the ground, strands of my hair sticking to my sweaty face. What could I say? I was a mess physically, mentally and emotionally.

"That's a good girl." He whispered up close to me and smacked my bottom as I walked ahead of him. That pervert!

I couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't live like that anymore. If I lived another day in that orphanage, I might just jump through a window from the top building and sell myself to death.I needed a plan, and fast. But I couldn't think straight that moment as the Caretaker's strength overpowered mine.

I needed to end all of that once and for all. It was now or never.