The next day, Lucy was hurried into a black 2012 Vauxhall Corsa. It was only eight o’clock in the morning and the dim October sun was lazily taking its usual position over the London skyline. Lucy gazed sleepily out of the foggy glass window enjoying the gentle hum of the car heater and the low rumble of the five year old engine. At 8.50am, the Vauxhall came to a slow halt in front of an old, tattered building on Burnfoot Avenue. Looking around, she noticed beautiful streets with fresh red bricks. Unlike
Peckham, there were no bins overflowing with rubbish. Instead there were clear, clean pavements. Lucy thought these were the stunning mansions of her dreams… until she saw the orphanage. Despite the beauty of the surroundings, the crumbling, grey bricks and rattling window panes suggested that this building was very timeworn. The Orphanage wasn’t the most hygienic place for over 300 children, Lucy noticed as she was escorted by the driver of the Vauxhall. It wasn’t the most comfortable either. It looked as though the beautiful landscape of West London had been sketched into a book, with an out-dated picture of the orphanage messily glued in afterwards. In other words, the filthy, deteriorating bricks of the building were incongruous next to the neighbouring residences. In fact, this place hardly met the health requirements for your standard garage. The murky-beige bed sheets were intolerable, the food was shoddy, the crusty, mauve carpets
There stood a lanky, slender, almost stick-thin man in a black waistcoat, black trousers, black shoes and a deep, oil black bowler hat which cast a menacing shadow over his grin. A wide grin. Very wide…
were decorated with juice stains and there was not a single room without a leaking pipe or a faulty light switch but Lucy didn’t care. She had long since departed with the will to care. She seemed utterly emotionless. fter a year at the Orphanage, Lucy’s weekly schedule of seven thirty-minute lessons a day, five days per week left her jaded. She rarely ate due to her unhealthy state-of-mind and mild depression and she longed for Saturdays when she wasn’t forced to interact with other kids in a class environment. However today, she wasn’t tired or exhausted or knackered or even fatigued. The long, rough day had debilitated her. An immense sense of despondency engulfed the room like thick smoke, choking her room mates mid-sentence as Lucy carelessly tossed her books on the floor and collapsed immediately into deep slumber on her flea-bitten mattress. Midnight. The raucous tumult of the orphanage had long-since ceased as Lucy stood outside on the balcony, breathing in the cold, silent air of the night. How she had gotten there, she did not know…or care… but she was enjoying these precious seconds that she was alone. ‘SIGHHHHH!!!’ Lucy’s head whipped around, trying to see who or what made that noise… Then she saw it… There stood a lanky, slender, almost stick-thin man in a black waistcoat, black trousers, black shoes and a deep, oil black bowler hat which cast a menacing shadow over his grin. A wide grin. Very wide… and incredibly white too. The moon, which had somewhat retreated after the appearance of this creature, reflected a blinding light A
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