Facing Reality My pencil scratched against paper, creating marks and lines. 16+...the pencil lead broke. I swore under my breath as I reached for another pencil lead. This was NOT the first pencil lead that had broken. Maybe I should start using a pen. I sighed as I reloaded my mechanical pencil with the last of my pencil lead. Homework. What a pain. I continued writing down my answer;...14=30. With utmost care, I proceeded to finish the last of my equations. Just a little bit more...and I was done! I flung down my pencil and whooped with joy. I massaged my eyes as I spun away from the table on my chair, which had wheels. Then my eyes fell onto an envelope, small and seemingly without meaning, and my shoulders sagged. The letter that was once in it lay beside it. A bit of it showed. Dear Ms Reina Dawson, it read, your transport will arrive...I sat there, staring at the letter. I picked it up and read it again for the umpteenth time. Dear Reina Dawson, Your transport will arrive tomorrow. The driver will come at 1.30pm and you will arrive at our orphanage at around 2.00 pm. Please pack only the essentials. We await your arrival. Yours sincerely, Mrs Winnie Supra I threw the letter with as much force as I could muster. It landed forlornly on the floor. Why me? All of a sudden, a wet drop splashed on my hand. Only then, I realized I had been crying. I longed for the comforting presence of a mother figure, but that was impossible. Both my parents had been involved in a fatal car accident just a day ago. I had been at my aunt's house as that day had been 'Adults' Day', in which my parents would go on an outing by themselves. Alas, fate dealt it's deadly cards. By a terrible twist of fate, my parents died. They died. The enormity of the word hit me as I collapsed on the ground. My eyes blurred by tears, I groped blindly around for the letter. There it was. I ripped it to shreds. My hands shook as I wiped away my tears. This was a load of nonsense. I wasn't an orphan. Why should I belong in an orphanage? I refused to accept the hard cold truth. It wasn't even true! "This is fake! My parents are downstairs, doing something!" I screamed at no one in particular. As if to assure myself, I lumbered down the stairs leading to my room to find my parents. The living room was empty. The kitchen was deserted. Their bedroom bore no hints at all that someone, actually 2 someones, had been in there. I stumbled out to the toilet. I was greeted by silence. There was no terrible singing of a particularity cheerful father or a soft but melodious hum of a kind mother. Only silence. I went up the stairs again. I desperately went to the last room, the toilet on my room's floor. I heard a soft humming. "Mum!" I squealed. But then I saw a bee, perched innocently on the open window sill. The last flicker of hope within me was cruelly put out by the waves of despair. I walked numbly back into my room. #lifelessly, I slumped in my chair. Then I succumbed to my emotions and threw my pencil across the room. By chance, the pencil knocked down the family picture. The only family picture I had left fell to the floor with a heart-wrenching crack. I rushed forward, muttering angrily at myself. What had I done? Cracks distorted my parents faces, but my face was undamaged. My smile stared back at me. The picture clattered to the floor with a soft thunk. "Chance," I whispered. "Chance!" My head swiveled up to the clock. It read 1.25 pm. Since I'd it gotten the letter the previous day, it meant that the transport was arriving in 5 minutes. I pick up the picture. With utmost care, I took out the unmarked picture itself. I grabbed a plastic folder from my shelf and slotted the picture into it. Then, slowly, I pack clothes, the folder, other essentials, my pencil case and a few books into a white suitcase which belonged to my mother. Then it was 1.30pm and time to go. I grabbed my completed homework, washed my face, took one last look at my now empty room, and remembered something. I walked to the table, opened a small red box and stared at the tiny necklace inside. The necklace was a silver heart attached to a long metal chain. I pried open the heart. In one half was a photo of my family. In the other was a slip of paper. Gently, I eased out the paper and read the short massage. We love you forever. No matter where we are, you can still find us-in your heart. Love, Mom and Dad. I replaced the paper and closed the heart. I fitted the neck lace around my neck. The box was left on the table. The heart lay cold on my chest.