Read notes and credits. (It's kinda long) This book is written by me and my friend at school that doesn't have a scratch account, but I wanted to give her credit for this. This first chapter I wrote on my own, and it's about my character. The next chapter I release is going to be about her character. Also HAPPY 1 YEAR OF SCRATCH!!!! I've been on this scratch account for a whole year! Well enjoy!
One more than 1 Chapter 1 Sumi Kota April 5th, 2012. I live in an orphanage, that’s all I have to say. I was born not loved, not even a little. Born with no friends or family. Born with eyes people hate. Born with a spirit no one wanted. Rain pours down my bedroom walls. I’m one of the only Orphans in my whole district, so I get my very own room. They said I could do whatever I wanted with the room, yet the walls are still the cold gray they have always been. White sheets, white doors, no paintings or photos on the walls. Nothing. Everyone else has made their walls a light blue or pink, maybe even a green. I’ve been here for 9 years, but nothing has changed. The creepy hallway outside my door, the cafeteria, the office. It’s all the same, and it has been for years. It rains almost everyday in this season. The rain doesn’t even turn to snow, even though it’s cold out,, so if you step outside, it’s like you’re being splashed with a bucket of cold freezing water that should be ice, but it’s not. It’s winter, if you haven’t guessed. Cold, freezing winter. I hate winter. I feel the most uncomfortable in the winter. All the clouds turn gray, the rain turns cold. Your socks get soaked. There is nothing good about winter. The worst part is that the air smells of something I’ve never smelled before. Blood, chemicals, and other things I don’t know of. The air digs into my skin like a sharp knife. So when I finally move back to Japan in the middle of winter, I panic. I get off the subway with my dark blue backpack on, and an old school uniform from my last school. My first year of high school. The crowd around me bumps into me. I dropped the book I was reading, and crouched down to pick it up. I look around seeing kids my age laughing, fighting, and even crying. My face just stays blank. I’ve never really felt any emotions before. If I have, it's a rare experience. My bangs hang over my red, violet eyes. My long brown hair swept onto my shoulders. My pale face with red cheeks. My eyes low, looking at the cream tiled floor of the subway station. I put my book to my chest, shoulders covered in the calm blue coat my grandmother gave me in the hospital of her death. The only one who ever loved me was my grandmother. I remember waking every morning and seeing her bright smile. I wouldn’t smile back, but she knew I couldn’t. She was my only friend in life, but she passed away when I was only 5. My ankle socks were cold, as I walked up the stairs into Kyoto. The breeze was nice and cool, the sun shining down on me. The old fashioned buildings, also specs of modern day buildings. The sidewalks were cracked and flowers grew everywhere. Sometimes it was loud, but it could turn quiet. At night everyone would turn off every light in the town, and the only thing you could see was the Moon surrounded by stars. I walked on a concrete road. Little bits of snow falling down to the cold hard ground. Cars driving by. I walk all the way down to my new orphanage. The walls are painted a sky blue color, with the roof and corners painted a bright white. I walked up to the porch of the building, and knocked on the white door. Someone answered the door. It was a girl maybe a few years younger than me. With short red hair and brown eyes. “ HI!” She yelled at me with an excited tone. “ Are you the new girl!?” I nod my head, a little taken back at how loud she is. The girl puts out her hand for me to shake. I stare at her hand. “ My name is Komi! What’s your name?” I look at her brown eyes then back at her hand. I slip my hand in hers and say in a calm tone “ Sumi…. Sumi Kota” . She stares at my eyes. “ You have weird eyes” then takes a step closer to get a better look, I just stare at the floor, with cold sad eyes. “ Don’t scare her Komi,” a woman says, walking up the door and leaning on the wall. “ Hi Sumi, let me show you to your room.” The woman says. I walk behind her in silence. I was never good at talking, especially to adults. She took me down the hallway that was painted a light pastel yellow. There were paintings of animals on the
