"Aric! You stupid boy, where are you? Just wait until I catch you; I will punish you for breaking my teapot!" Sister Anne's voice, sharp as shattered glass, echoed through the orphanage. Aric, a half-eaten biscuit clutched in his hand, was hiding behind the kitchen door, his heart hammering against his ribs. The air hung thick with the smell of burnt porridge, a constant reminder of their meager meals. Sister Anne was about to slam the door shut, but in a blink, she spotted Aric, her thin lips curling into a cruel smile. "You!"
Aric, caught red-handed, bolted from the kitchen, his bare feet slapping against the cold stone floor. "Come back here, you little thief!" Sister Anne shrieked, her heavy footsteps pounding after him. Aric laughed, a sound that felt foreign even to his own ears, as he sprinted towards the farm. The other children, their faces gaunt and pale, watched him with a mixture of envy and fear. "That was close! Hey there, Henrietta, want some biscuit? Here you are," Aric said, offering a small piece of biscuit to a scrawny white chicken. He sat on a weathered rock, watching the other kids playing a game of tag near the muddy pigpen. He longed to join them, but they always shunned him, calling him "orphan freak" and "diamond boy." He looked down at the blue diamond chain around his neck, its smooth surface cool against his skin. He often wondered about its origin, about the mother he barely remembered.
"Aric, there you are," a warm, familiar voice called. He turned to see a woman standing near the gate, her figure a comforting beacon against the drab landscape. She was wearing a black and white dress, its simple elegance a stark contrast to the roughspun clothes of the orphanage.
"Aunty Rina!" Aric shouted, his face lighting up with a genuine smile. He ran to hug her, burying his face in her soft skirt. "I miss you so much!" His voice echoed in her ears, a sound filled with longing and affection. She knelt down, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she held his cheek. "Are you doing okay, Aric? You seem thin. Does Sister Anne not feed you well?" Aunty Rina asked, her brow furrowed with concern. He remembered her bringing him sweets and telling him stories when he was just a baby. Aunty Rina was the only one that ever cared for him.
Aric stayed silent, his eyes downcast, and nodded slowly. "Come here; I have something special for you," Aunty Rina said, leading him towards a small, wooden bench.
"What is it? A gift!" Aric's face lit up with joy. He was so happy. Aunty Rina was giving him a birthday present, as he was turning eight years old. She smiled, watching how happy he was.
"It's new clothes? I love it, Aunty Rina! Thank you!" Aric said, hugging her again. The clothes were simple but well-made: a sturdy pair of trousers and a warm woolen shirt, perfect for the coming winter.
"Rina, we have to go," a man's voice echoed from the distance.
"Look, Aric, I'm sorry, but I have to go," she said, holding his face, her voice laced with sadness.
"When will I see you again?" Aric asked, his eyes wide with worry. Suddenly, tears welled up in her eyes, shimmering like trapped stars. "Oh, Aric, I wish I could bring you with me, but my husband didn't agree. I'm afraid you may never see me again, my dear Aric."
Aric was confused; he was just a kid and didn't understand what Aunty Rina meant. "Aunty… where are you going? Are you going to leave me far from here?" Aric asked, tears sparkling in his eyes.
She hugged him tightly for the last time, her embrace filled with a desperate tenderness. "Be a good kid, okay?" She kissed his head, her lips lingering for a moment. "Until we meet again," she said, then turned and walked away, her figure growing smaller with each step.
Aric's chest tightened. He would be completely alone. He watched the woman who felt like home disappear over the horizon. He clutched his gift to his chest and ran to his small, bare room, crying on the bed until he fell into a restless sleep.
The harsh clang of a bell jolted him awake. "Wake up, you lazy brats!" Sister Anne's loud voice echoed through the dormitory. He dragged himself out of bed and walked quickly to the living room, where the other kids had already gathered, their faces etched with weariness.
"Listen up, kids! None of you can leave this orphanage. Did you all see what happened to poor Thomas? Yes, he was planning to escape, but a wild beast ate him alive! Do you all understand? If I see any of you trying to leave this place again, I will punish you in ways you can't even imagine!" Sister Anne said, her eyes glinting with a disturbing intensity as she glared at each of them.
Aric shivered. Thomas had been his friend, of sorts. They used to share stories and dream of escaping together. Had he really been eaten by a beast, or had Sister Anne done something to him? The thought sent a chill down his spine. "Now, go to your own rooms!" Sister Anne commanded, and they all scurried away, their footsteps echoing in the oppressive silence.
Aric sat on his bed, looking out the grimy window. He wished he could leave too; this place was hell. Sometimes they didn't get fed, but they always had to work on the farm, tending to the crops and animals under the watchful eyes of the sisters. He had been in the orphanage for almost seven years and hadn't seen Aunty Rina again. The blue diamond chain felt heavy around his neck, a constant reminder of a life he could barely remember.
One day, while weeding the vegetable garden near the edge of the property, he saw a luxurious carriage, its polished wood gleaming in the sunlight. He ducked behind a broken-down shed, his heart pounding in his chest. He saw a man in a black suit, his face stern and unreadable, climb out of the carriage and approach the orphanage. "This is my chance to escape," Aric whispered, his eyes fixed on the carriage. He watched the man enter the house, his mind racing, then, with a surge of adrenaline, he darted towards the carriage, squeezing himself into the dark, cramped space behind the driver's seat, a small, enclosed box that smelled of leather and dust. He crouched there, barely daring to breathe, wondering if he had made the biggest mistake of his life.