Revelations

When a young orphan girl receives an inheritance from someone claiming to be related to her, is it a dream come true, or a false miracle?

I lay awake, staring at the textured ceiling and debating whether to move an inch. My brain was desperately screaming at every muscle in my body to quit lounging around and to start the day, but my muscles were reluctant as always. I turned my head to the left, looking over at the alarm clock and letting out the heaviest sigh I had ever let out in my somewhat short life span. 

I was up late again.

My muscles, as lazy as they were, began to stretch as I sat up on the creaky bed. I was colder than usual, having kicked off the cotton sheets supplied for me in my sleep again and curling up into a ball to hold onto what little warmth was left after such a foolish decision. Throwing my arms up into the air and yawning softly, I got up onto my feet and strolled over to the corner of the room quickly, grabbing my flashlight and turning it on. The light was dim, but after shaking it and hitting it against my hand a few times the lowly-charged tool brightened up and shone in the cramped room. I smiled. It was nice to be able to see in a room with no windows. 

I quickly pulled open the wooden door to my temporary bedroom and rushed out of it, flashlight in hand, ignoring the amount of noise that I made. Everyone else was awake, anyways, so who would mind? The windows in the next room had been opened before my awakening, so being able to see my own hand in front of my face wouldn't be a problem anymore. I decided to lay my flashlight on the stool at the end of the hallway, rushing off to the dining hall, if you could even call it that. It was simply a room big enough to fit all 141 children from the orphanage into it, along with a few tables and rugs to eat at. Nothing special, in most people's opinions, but since it was the only thing I had since my parents died, it meant the world to me. 

Pushing in the door to the dining hall, I sat down at the next empty seat that I saw. It was hard, considering that with 141 children in one room, and it couldn't possibly be considered barren. I felt lucky, getting a chance to sit next to my best friend, Angela. She was 12, around my age, and had shoulder-length black hair and green eyes that shone like emeralds. Her pale skin and bright smile lit up an otherwise dreary room, and was even able to cheer me up at times. I waited for my breakfast to be handed to me, but what I received was more than I anticipated.

Cindy, the main teacher, and my favorite adult in the orphanage, came up to me with a strange piece of paper in her hands, along with a pancake drenched in maple syrup. She knew me so well. As she came closer to me in her stride, I realized that what she held was not just a piece of paper, but a small letter. She stopped behind me, placing my pancakes in front of me and handing me my letter.

"We found this addressed to you in the mail. Not sure who would send it, but... It's all yours!" She smiled warmly, giggling and walking back the same way she came. I stared down at the envelope, before turning it around.  There was only the address that it was going to, which was here. It never said who it was from, but it was sealed up nice and tight. They forgot to check the inside of it. Again, I might add. I tore away at the exterior before revealing a strange note, along with a bit of money. I pulled out the note, reading it carefully.

"Dear Delilah, 

I hope this reaches you in one piece. If it does, then I'm glad.

This is an inheritance, to you, from me. There's a plane ticket to New York and about $2,000 in here, which should be enough to get you clothes, food, and anything else you may need. This is all you need to know for the time being. I'll find you once you get off the plane. I'm sure that you'll remember me, even though it's been a long time. You're a smart girl, Delilah. You can trust me.

Sincerely,

Your-"

I paused. The name at the end was smudged so badly that I couldn't read it even if I tried. Who was this person, and why did they want me to meet them so badly? They mentioned an inheritance... Family members only get those, right? Could they be a distant cousin? Aunt? Uncle? It couldn't be either of my parents. They died when I was 4. No way it could be them. I placed the note back into the envelope, and started to consume my pancake. This was a lot to think about, but I was 13. I could handle it. Angela was clueless, speaking with another orphan and enjoying her meal. She glanced over at the letter I held in my hands.

"What's that?" She asked, confused. I shrugged, as if to say, 'nothing'. I hated keeping secrets from my friends, but I couldn't trust anyone. I learned that after my parents died. The people that found me in the home I lived in put me in a car, driving me to a lonely, barren, no good place. 

The orphanage.

I tried to meet people there. I tried making friends, but it never seemed to work for me. It felt like everyone who didn't know me was out to get me and tease me. I was the outcast, the oddball, the weirdo. No one liked me. Not a single person. Even the teachers were out to get me. I didn't belong there, and I knew it. Every night I would pray for another family, for friends, for people to love. I was lonely, broken, even. Nobody cared, nobody was there, everything was dark for me. And all because of the people who put me here. They were crazy. They had to be. No one could ever wish this sort of torture on a 4 year old. It lasted all the way until I was 14. 

The thought of there being someone out there who actually loved me was outstanding. I thought that I was all alone. Like I didn't matter to anyone. But now I knew the truth. I knew what had to be done. 

I was going to run away.

Of course, it wasn't easy. The last thing I remember of it was packing a plastic bag with a blanket, spare clothing, the essentials. I had heard of an airport that was very close by, so I wouldn't have to worry about food. There was no way that I would be going hungry. I opened up my bedroom door, not letting it make a single creak, lest it wake up the other orphans. I slipped out as cautiously as I could.

I tip-toed down the dark hall, plastic bag hoisted over my shoulder, breathing quietly and shallow. The window in the dining hall was always unlocked, no matter how many times Cindy tried locking it. The other orphans always managed to open them again. Eventually she gave up and left them open. I loved having advantages. Opening the window and throwing my bag onto the ground below, I allowed my skinny frame to slide out of the window and I didn't let go until I felt my feet hit the soft grass of the outside world. I wanted to shut the window again to minimize the chances of people following my trail, but I was unable to reach it. Picking my bag back up, I was off for the races.

Feeling the grass between my toes, the cool air surrounding me, and the stars twinkling in the sky gently, I was more than prepared for my trip. I could see a vast array of lights illuminating a large, gray building in the distance, followed by a field filled with airplanes, things I had only seen in books from the orphanage. I knew in my heart that this was it. This was the airport. Soon I would be off to find my relatives, or relative. The people who cared for me. The people who were kin to me. I had never felt like this before. This mixture of excitement, of fear, of joy... The emotions were hitting me like bolts of lightning. 

I was nearing the airport at an astounding rate. I was going at cheetah speed, maybe even airplane speed. I wondered if this was what flying felt like. It was all so new to me.

I walked into the automatic doors of the airport, catching my breath and calming myself as much as I could. I raced up to the nearest counter, turning in my ticket and listening for what to do next. It was a long, grueling conversation, but eventually I sat down and waited to board my flight. I had never been that bored in my entire life. There was nothing to do, it was crowded, it was noisy... I wanted to get onto my flight as fast as I could. I drew my knees up to my chest and covered my ears.

My prayers were answered when a voice came over a loud speaker, exclaiming that the flight to New York City was now boarding. I grabbed my plastic bag, running out to the plane as fast as I could go. I didn't need coffee, I had excitement. I cautiously climbed up the steps to get into the plane, smiling at the flight attendant and finding my spot. I threw my bag into the compartment above my head, closing it and sitting down in my seat. I watched quietly out the window, bracing myself for anything that would happen next. We started to roll across the field, speeding up at an alarming rate before rising off the ground in an attempt of flight, which was successful. It wasn't long afterwards that the excitement died down and I soon fell asleep. 

I awoke to the sound of compartments opening and suitcases being pulled out of them. The suitcase above me was pulled out so quickly and forcefully that my bag fell onto my lap, waking me up for good. I stood up and stretched my arms to the roof, as I had done many times in the past, before picking up my bag and heading out of the plane. I smoothed back my dark brown hair, which had grown past the middle of my back and was considerably tangled at this point. My hazel eyes twinkled as I set my sights on my new home, presumably, New York City.

I looked at the amount of people, which was astounding to me. The smells of the city, hot dogs, tacos, everything. The lights from skyscrapers and office buildings and street lamps were a delight to my eyes, filling me with determination to find my relatives. They said that I would recognize them, but... I saw no face that I knew. That was, until, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around to face the person, clueless as to who was trying to get my attention. I focused on a man who was considerably taller than me, bearing almost all of my features. Hair, noise, chin, you name it. He looked as if he was in his late 20's or early 30's. He really wasn't that old once I got the chance to gaze at him. He held out his arms, perhaps expecting an embrace.

Then it hit me.

I looked deep into his eyes, remembering various memories from my younger years. Times of contentment. Times of love. Times of family. From when I took my first steps up until the day that my Mom died, I remembered it all. I ran up to him, pulling him into a deep embrace and crying into his arms. He hugged me tightly, rubbing my back and kneeling so that I could reach him better. I pulled away, wiping tears away from my eyes and smiling uncontrollably. He smirked, looking at me with the same love that he looked at my mother with. A love that I had nearly forgotten. He took my hands in his and spoke.

"You really do have your Mother's eyes."

The End.

Author's Note

Please critique! I need all the help I can get with this one.