Owned by violence

No one tells you how quiet an orphanage gets at night. Not the peaceful kind of quiet. The kind that reminds you that you don’t belong anywhere. I learned that on my third night there. The bed was too small. The blanket too thin. The air carried a smell I couldn’t describe, something old, something forgotten. Like everything inside those walls had been left behind by someone who never came back. I stared at the ceiling, counting the cracks because it was easier than thinking. Easier than remembering. Easier than crying. Crying didn’t do anything anyway. I found that out quickly. The first time I cried, no one came. Not the staff. Not the other kids. Not anyone. One of the older girls just rolled over in her bed and muttered, “Shut up.” So I did. After that, I stopped making noise. Stopped asking questions. Stopped expecting anything. That was the rule here, whether anyone said it out loud or not. You survive by staying quiet. By staying invisible. By not giving anyone a reason to notice you. I was good at that. Until I wasn’t. “Hey.” I didn’t look up at first. I thought if I ignored them, they’d go away. They didn’t. “I’m talking to you.” A hand grabbed my arm and yanked me up from where I was sitting near the wall. Pain shot through me, but I bit it back. Three of them stood in front of me. Older. Bigger. Louder. The kind of people who had already learned how this place worked, and decided they were going to be on the side that hurt, not the side that got hurt. “You think you’re special or something?” one of them asked. I shook my head quickly. “No.” “Then why do you act like you are?” “I don’t, ” “Exactly,” another girl cut in. “You don’t talk. You don’t look at anyone. It’s weird.” “I’m not trying to be, ” “Shut up.” The push came fast. I stumbled back, my shoulder hitting the wall behind me. The impact made my eyes sting, but I forced myself not to react. That only made them laugh. “Look at her,” one of them said. “She doesn’t even fight back.” Another shove. Harder this time. “Pathetic.” I focused on the floor. On breathing. On getting through it. Because it would end eventually. It always did. That’s what I told myself. “Leave her alone.” The voice cut through everything. Not loud. Not angry. Just… certain. The laughter stopped. The hands on me disappeared. I didn’t move at first. Didn’t look up. Because sometimes things get worse before they get better. But then I felt it. The shift. The tension in the air changing. Slowly, I lifted my head. He stood a few feet away. Hands in his pockets. Posture relaxed like he had nowhere else to be. But his eyes, They weren’t relaxed at all. They were steady. Focused. Locked on them. “Cory,” one of the girls said, clearly annoyed. “This doesn’t concern you.” “It does now.” Still calm. Still quiet. But something in the way he said it made even me believe him. They exchanged looks. Not scared. But… cautious. “Whatever,” one of them muttered finally. “She’s not worth it.” They brushed past me like I didn’t exist. Like I was just something in the way. Like always. Except this time… They left. And I was still standing. Still untouched. Still— Safe. For a moment, neither of us said anything. Then he stepped closer. “You’re not going to say thank you?” I blinked, caught off guard. “I, ” My voice came out quieter than I expected. “Thank you.” He studied me. Not in a cruel way. Not like the others. More like he was trying to figure something out. “You always let people do that to you?” I looked down. “It’s easier.” He frowned slightly. “No, it’s not.” I didn’t argue. Because arguing meant attention. And attention meant trouble. But he didn’t leave. Didn’t walk away like everyone else did once things were over. Instead, he sighed softly and held out his hand. “Come on.” I hesitated. My eyes flicked from his hand to his face. “Why?” “Because if you stay here,” he said simply, “they’ll come back.” That was true. I knew that. Still… something in me resisted. Not him. Just… the idea. Of trusting someone. Of believing this would last. Nothing ever did. He must’ve seen it on my face. “Or don’t,” he added with a small shrug. “Your choice.” Choice. That word felt strange. Like something I wasn’t used to having. I looked at his hand again. Then slowly… carefully… I reached out and took it. His grip was firm. Warm. Real. Not like everything else here. He didn’t say anything as he led me away. Didn’t ask questions. Didn’t push. We walked in silence until we reached the back of the building, where it was quieter. Safer. At least, it felt that way. “No one bothers me here,” he said. “Why?” He shrugged. “They just don’t.” I didn’t ask more. Some things didn’t need explanations. We stood there for a while. Not talking. But not uncomfortable either. Just… existing. “What’s your name?” he asked after a moment. “Diana.” He nodded once. “I’m Cory.” “I know.” A small smile touched his lips. “Of course you do.” For the first time since I arrived there… I felt something shift. Not around me. Inside me. Like maybe Just maybe I wasn’t completely alone anymore. And that scared me. Because things that feel safe Don’t stay safe. But that day Cory chose me. And for reasons I didn’t understand yet I chose him too.