One week ago I never would have thought I could end up an orphan, but here I am in an unfamiliar place without my parents. I couldn’t get the vivid pictures of those two burly, unshaven men out of my mind. They were standing over my parents shouting, and then BANG my whole life changed. I remember the police interrogation room and the cold metal chair I was sitting in for hours, but all of the faces blurred together as though I was spinning. I couldn’t remember anyone’s names or even why they were there. 1
This was my life and Sunny Home orphanage was a place to reinvent myself. I could be anyone I wanted to be there, and no one would ever have to know the real me. The day my parents died was the day the old Sara disappeared forever. I didn’t have the strength to think about them anymore. I retreated inside the safe haven of Laura. Laura lived in the orphanage, not Sara. 2
“I hate this place,” Laura shouted from the second floor bedroom that she shared with Corina, another orphaned misfit. Corina was quiet and kept to herself most of the time, but I enjoyed teasing her when she did something weird. She used to glare at me when I taunted her, but after a while she just stared at the floor. However, it’s not much fun to pick on someone when they don’t react. 3
I loved wreaking havoc in that dump. Mrs. Steele used to get so mad at me when I would trash the place or run around the halls screaming at the top of my lungs. No matter how much I complained about the place that I called a home for a whole year, it really wasn’t all that bad. 4
When I was 13, I was pushed into a foster home, and I was determined to keep up my rowdy behavior in this new environment. Don Poplar, my foster father, was a creep. He insisted I call him Daddy despite my many protests. He didn’t take to kindly to my rebellious attitude, and Joan, Don’s wife, was drunk so often I don’t think she even remembered her own name anymore. 5
Don used to come home after his evening shift with the local construction company smelling of stale cigarettes and sweat. I was always the first person he wanted to see in order to relieve the tension he built up at work. At first, I kicked and screamed when he would take advantage of me, but I knew it was futile. His bulky frame overpowered my lean body every time I tried to break free. 6
However, two years after I moved into that hell, I couldn’t take his daily abuses on my fragile body anymore, and Liza was there to protect me. I awoke hours later with no recollection of what had happened. I soon found my foster parents lying lifeless on the floor of the dingy blue living room. I gaped at the brutal scene in front of me and wondered if I could have possibly done such a violent crime. 7
The next instant the police were bursting through the front door to find Don and Joan lying on the floor with me standing emotionless over their bodies. I was cuffed roughly, and shoved into the back of a blue and white patrol car. I distinctly remember the sirens gave me a headache even during the mere 10 minute ride to the precinct. I wasn’t scared of what might happen to me; I knew I would be taken care of somehow. By the end of my stay in the police station the people questioning me had gotten so frustrated by my inability to give them a logical answer that they had been joyous to send me off. I was placed in a huge psychiatric hospital in the center of Topeka, Kansas. The hospital was decent and people were friendly. Although, I sometimes woke up after what I assumed were blackouts with no idea what had happened. Later I would be informed of my violent outbursts; I put three other patients in the medical wing of the hospital, and I still didn’t remember. 8
I lived like that for five years with frequent blackouts, and unexplainable events. Psychiatrists poking and prodding at me every chance they got. I really didn’t understand why I still needed to be in that place. Doctors kept telling me I had a disease, something they called Multiple Personality Disorder. I was told of at least one other person sharing my body, but how could that be possible? I was one person, one body, and no one else was living in it with me. I always felt as though I had some inner war going on, like I was being pulled apart from the inside. Some days I nearly drove myself crazy with murderous thoughts for people I didn’t even know. 9
However, one day the bickering in my mind came to an end. I really was being ripped to pieces from the inside out. I remember the shriek from girl whose name I somehow knew was Sara, and the cackling laugh of a devil named Liza before it all faded to black. 10
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