months old, or so I was told.
My mother dropped me in a basket with a locket around my neck, my name engraved on it, and a tiny picture of my mom and I inside.
I felt unwanted. Why would my mother drop me at an orphanage? Wasn't I good enough? I was always haunted in my dreams by these questions. I felt or let's say still feel like I'm a mistake. A mistake that should never have been born.
I was a red head with natural curls, striking blue eyes which made me more outcasted and different from kids my age in the orphanage.
I was often forgotten and slept on empty stomachs. And on rare days I'd be given food, It would just be a drop in the bowl after other kids had eaten their full.
Still, I'd divide my share and feed it to my only companion and friend at the place - a stray dog I calle
