The story of an orphan uncovering his magical past
I shuffled forward, barely daring to raise my feet off the cold wooden floor. A frosty breeze attacked my with all its mighty as I entered my new room, where I would spend the rest of my childhood.
"Make yourself at home!" the head of the orphanage, Mr. Mould announced leaving him to get acquinted with my bed and bare wooden walls. I stroked them ever so gently. Stone cold.
A girl screamed and I spun around to face her. It was slower than I had hoped for and felt as though my life was playing in slow motion. She was stood in the corridor staring through the open door into my room. Her shaking hand was covering her mouth. She blinked and her eyes re-emerged wet and full of emotion. She ran off so I followed her. Desperately trying to find the truth. I chased her throughout the old orphange but she slithered through the corridors with experience whilst I tried to remember where my room was.
I bumped into someone and stumbled back as she vanished out of sight by walking straight through a wall. I stared at that same spot for what seemed like hours until an irritable someone tutted. I frowned up at the hurdle and she frowned back. Her nametag showed she was entitled 'Mrs. Critchlow'
"Are you the new child!" she crowed in her posh london accent as she stroked her silver hair like it was an award winning dog "Milton Bedford?". I nodded slowly fearing if I opened my mouth something terrible would happen. She walked back into the room she had just come out of but emerged again with a brown folder that seemed to have lost its colour and quality with age.
"I have had this in my possession for sixteen years" she began, slowly opening it "It's about your father, the family you never knew you had"
This last comment was like a knife in my heart. I felt sick. Not just because she had hurtfully reminded me of my illegitemacy but because a history I craved to know was just a fingertip away. She placed it in my clammy hands and I felt an almighty power buzz through my veins
"Th-Thankyou" I gasped rushing back to my room. After fourteen years I could finally find out about my father. Starting with his name. I glanced down at the document and the little letters next to the word FullName:
It read: Milton Dixon. I had known my fathers name all along.