Chapter 7: A Humble Dream
**A Few Days Ago **
“Sally, it’s time to wake up now. Why are you up so late today? Are you sick or something? You’re usually never this late to breakfast...” I cried out quite loudly as I banged my fist against her door.
It was a typical day with pleasantly sunny weather at the orphanage. Just like any other day, I woke up before the break of dawn to prepare breakfast for everyone with the help of some other girls. Working as a team, we finished cooking breakfast to feed every girl in the home just in time for breakfast. The girl-only orphanage where I was placed after my parents passed away was now home to around 50 girls of various ages. I’ve been here since I was around 8 years old, 12 years ago. I am now 20 years old this year, and apart from the supervisors managing and running this place, I was already the eldest among the girls. That meant that I had been responsible for caring for the other younger girls in the home for a long time.
I helped out wherever I could to help repay the orphanage and the supervisors for caring for me so well for all these years. This place is my home, and everyone here is my family. They are all like sisters to me, and I love everyone dearly.
“Sally! Are you ok? Umm...I’m going to be in now, okay?” After a while, I shouted through the door after not hearing any reply from the other side.
My core responsibilities at the orphanage were to help cook and serve food. That became my role when I graduated from my previous cleaning duties. Cooking was a joy because I like it much better than cleaning. I wouldn’t go as far as to say that I was good at cooking, but the girls seemed to enjoy the food I made, which made me very proud.
Apart from my peaceful life here, I don’t remember much about the time before I arrived here. Whenever I tried to think or recall anything from before my time here, I would get a very intense headache that made me feel like my skull was about to split into two. My parents passed away in an accident, and I was found in the forest wandering around on my own. At least, that was what I was told.
After living at the orphanage for many years, I adjusted to my new life and couldn’t be happier. As time went by, I started to worry less and less about my past and the fact that I honestly couldn’t remember much about who I was before coming here or the life that I had before. Apart from my name, I didn’t remember anything else.
Fortunately, I still vaguely remembered my parents' faces and their smiles. However, sometimes, I couldn’t help but wonder if those fragments of memories were something that my young brain conjured up to fill the void of loneliness. It did occur to me that there was a possibility that those memories were not even real at all.