Chapter 1: Bizarre condition

[Fifteen years ago]

As the oldest kid in the orphanage, Eliz was the role model to most kids. She lived and served as everyone's ideal sister and daughter. She was perfect, except for one thing.

She had a little secret–a bizarre condition.

Eliz knew that her condition was the reason she was stuck at the orphanage. Whenever she felt it was finally the moment, her prospective foster families would find out and would back out of it.

Young Eliz bit her lip nervously as she followed the children led by one of the nuns. There was a commotion in the convent, and the nuns gathered all the kids in the hall.

Carry, a six-year-old girl with curly hair cried loudly. She was bawling so much, her tears appeared as large as droplets of heavy rain.

The nuns were cajoling the girl to stop crying and tell them the problem. All the kids were confused about why Carry acted that way, but only Eliz knew.

"S-Sister… S-sister…" Carry choked as she cried. She couldn't talk properly.

"Shh, Carry, calm down and tell us what is happening," Sister Marigold, the head nun, said gently.

Carry wiped the tears on her face and forced herself to calm down. She drew three large breaths before speaking.

"My barbie doll… the one I got last Christmas… my favorite… she's gone!" Carry cried out in horror.

Instantly, Sister Marigold's eyes roamed around the hall to look for a pair of eyes she wanted to see. When her eyes met Eliz's, they locked and concentrated on them.

Eliz trembled at where she was standing. The head nun's all-knowing eyes were terrifying.

She wished the floor would open up and swallow her to escape the mortifying situation. The guilt was slowly consuming her, so she turned around and bolted out of there.

She found herself inside the prayer room in the convent. Tears brimmed in her eyes, slowly trickling down her chin as she knelt down in desperation. She reached out both her hands to the altar.

"Lord, please, take my hands. I don't want them anymore. Take them away!"

Her wails reverberated around the room. She visited the prayer room too often to ask the Lord to take her sinful hands away, but her prayers were never answered.

Eliz felt a hand caressing her shoulder. She quickly turned her head and saw Sister Marigold with a worried face.

"It's not your fault, Eliz."

Eliz shook her head many times as if in denial. Tears streamed down as she closed her eyes to clear her vision.

"Sister, I'm a bad person. Can you please ask God to chop my hands off? I'd rather live with no hands." Eliz said bitterly through gritted teeth.

Sister Marigold cupped Eliz's face.

"Do you think you'd stop if you lost your hands?" she asked, expressionless.

Eliz couldn't answer. As she didn't know if it was her hands or her heart that was so sinful.

"Probably not," Sister Marigold said bluntly. "As I said, it's not your fault. So don't blame yourself."

"I'm a thief, Sister. I don't deserve to be here."

People loved Eliz for her kind character, but she hated herself more than anyone else.

"Shh!" the nun shushed the girl. "You're not a thief. Do you understand?"

The nuns had told her the same thing over and over again. However, at times like this, it was hard for her to believe.

Sister Marigold squeezed her hand.

"A thief steals with a purpose. You don't. It's your body's urge. And thieves don't return what they steal, but you do." Sister Marigold said with conviction, trying to make her point come across.

She flashed her convincing eyes at the weeping girl.

"As you have always done, when your symptoms are gone, return Carry's doll, okay?"

Eliz nodded and sniveled.

Eliz was a kleptomaniac. She would suddenly feel a strong desire to steal something, and the urge was often too strong to resist. When the symptoms would subside, she would feel the devastating squeezing from her conscience.

For a kid her age, she was already battling the excruciating self-identification of whether she was good or bad.

Was she a good kid, like how everyone said? Or was she actually a bad kid for stealing things from others?

"Promise me, Eliz. Don't try to hurt yourself again." The nun glanced at the big scar on the back of Eliz's hand. "If you do, it means you're giving up the chance to change yourself."

The nun made Eliz face the altar and made her look up at the cross.

"Prove to Him that you can change."

**

"Eliz! Eliz! I have good news for you."

Sister Bless' voice echoed in the hallway as she called for Eliz. Jumping up from her bed, Eliz ran to the door when she heard the young nun.

"Oh, you lucky girl! Remember Mrs. Wright? The one Sister Marigold introduced to you last Sunday?"

"Yes, that sweet lady who was with her son," Eliz replied.

'A good-looking son,' she thought to herself.

"Yes! She wants to take you in!"

Without realizing it, Eliz jumped around in excitement.

"Really? Is that true?"

"Yes!" Sister bless exclaimed. "Oh, Eliz, I told you. God has his plans."

"Does this mean I'm gonna have a mother?"

Sister Bless nodded in happiness. "And a brother too."

Eliz paused for a second, lost in her own thoughts. "Oh, a brother. Yes, of course, a brother."

She felt complicated about the fact that the boy she was crushing over would suddenly become her brother. Was that okay? Was that acceptable? She constantly battled the contradictory thoughts spamming in her head.

'Maybe I'll stop liking him after some time,' she thought to herself.

After years, a well-off family finally showed interest in adopting Eliz. As always, Eliz was elated to hear the news, however, she was also worried. She went to the convent to talk to the nuns.

"Sisters, I'm a bit scared," Eliz told the nuns anxiously.

"What are you scared of?" Sister Luciana asked.

"I heard some orphans are treated nicely only for a few months. After that, they are treated like slaves."

Sister Marigold took off her eyeglasses and placed them on the table.

"Where did you hear such a thing? Have you heard it from your friends who left the orphanage to live with their foster families?"

Eliz shook her head. "Just heard from people."

"Eliz, the sisters and I care so much about the children here. We make sure we send them to families that will treat them well, and you are no exception to our cause." Sister Marigold smiled to assure her. "So trust me, Mrs. Wright is the right parent for you. Also, you are always welcome to come back here if you don't like it there."

"I heard once the adoption happens, one can no longer leave their home."

Sister Marigold sat on the bunk bed beside Eliz.

"Here, listen to me," she said. "This is what I've always said to the children I sent off. If you really think they're mistreating you, come back here, and we will find a way to take you back."

Eliz felt relieved knowing she had a place to come back to in case the adoption turned out to be a bad road.

"Has anyone ever come back here?" Eliz inquired, with a tense expression on her face.

"It's never happened." Sister Marigold stared at her for a few seconds, before getting up from her bunk bed. "But again, I wouldn't want you to be the first."