Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months. Time dragged by and it was impossible to sleep with the pain of remembering that I, after all, had nobody, nobody at all. But at least I had Lilias by my side. Our friendship flourished and we became intimate friends. One day, we were brought the news that we were adopted. Both of us, together.
“A young single man,” Mrs. Weston told us. “Very distinguished, you’ll have a good life, both of you. Now hurry up and get on some fine clothing!”
She tossed us two silky dresses, one lavender and one periwinkle. After we were all dressed up, we were escorted downstairs to a fancy limousine. We were informed that our new father, Mr. Robertstad, would not be in for a little while, but would soon be here so we could go to our new home. Our chauffeur opened the door for us, and we excitedly took our seats. Several minutes passed when we heard a yell. I turned around in a flash, and the chauffeur jumped. Then I saw a horrible gun pointing out of a bush, it aimed, a gunshot snapped in the air and the next thing I knew, Lilias was bleeding in the seat beside me.
“No,” I whispered. “No, no, no, NO! It’s not true, it can’t be. Please, please no.”
The chauffeur didn’t say anything, it was not his place. Just then, a young man in a tuxedo and looking very wealthy stepped out of the orphanage and exclaimed,
“Hello girls! I’m your-” he stopped abruptly when he saw the bleeding body beside me.
“E-excuse me,” he faltered. “I-I, no! Is-is she alive?’
He looked so heart-broken that I felt sorry for him. But what did he know about being heartbroken? I had no one, he at least had his servants. Not a member of my family was left, and now none of my friends. Lilias had been one my supporter when I had been depressed at the orphanage, and now she too was gone. I laid my head in my arms but I couldn’t cry. The lump in my throat was too large for that. Lilias had been my sister, but nobody part of my family could ever live. I guess that was true with Lilias too. I guess.