The Orphans (Orphans Trilogy Book 1) Read Online Free Page B
Author: Matthew Sullivan
His task: Write a four-page essay on the most important moment in his life.
Charlie contemplated his seemingly endless options. He knew better than to go with his first impulse: his conception. Half his class would probably pick their conception or birth, and they all would surely be docked points for their lack of originality. Many would argue that losing his parents was the most important moment in his life, but Charlie had already decided that he wasn’t going to let that affect him.
Charlie turned to the pages of his Moleskine, certain that they held the answer. He ran down his list multiple times but still couldn’t determine which moment was the most important. Arguments could be made for and against each milestone he had planned.
The harder Charlie tried to ascertain the answer to his essay, the further he felt from reaching any resolution, and the more frustrated he became. Before long, he began to sense a dull pain in his forehead. It was as if someone had his frontal lobe in a vise and was slowly cranking the handle.
Charlie knew the feeling well. He had battled stress headaches for much of his childhood. The first one came when he was in the third grade, right before he and his classmates were tested for the Gifted and Talented program. Charlie also knew that unless he did something, the pain would only get worse. So Charlie decided to call it quits on the essay for the time being. Instead, he would just focus on his other assignments and come back to the writing assignment later.
◆ ◆ ◆
After only a couple of hours in the zone, Charlie had zipped through all of his accumulated math homework. The aching in his head had long since disappeared, and it was time to move on to Biology.
Before cracking his Biology book, Charlie took a quick glance at the clock on his computer screen. It was already 10:16 p.m. While he had been successful in suppressing any thoughts of his parents and focusing on his schoolwork, he couldn’t help but think of them at that moment. It was right around that time of night that his parents would call up to him and encourage him to shut it down and go to bed. They would also wish him goodnight and tell him how much they loved him. “We couldn’t love you more,” they would shout together. It had become their nightly ritual ever since Charlie had moved to his third floor bedroom.
Charlie turned his attention to the stairs that led down to the second floor and the closed door at the bottom of the staircase. A faint light emanated from the crack in the door. He kept his eyes fixed on the entrance for a few moments, just in case, by some miracle, the call might come.
It didn’t.
Charlie sighed and shook his head. He should have known better. Back to work. He flipped to the appropriate chapter in his Biology textbook and determinedly perused the pages.
Charlie was halfway through the second chapter of his required reading when his eyelids started to feel more like sandbags. Hoping to get the blood flowing and milk some more energy from his worn-out body, Charlie stretched his limbs so long that his joints cracked and popped like bubble wrap. A tiny boost followed, but only for a minute. After that, he was worse off than before. With every sentence that his eyes attempted to interpret, it only added more sand to the bags, until the weight had become unbearable.
Charlie decided to shut his eyelids for just a second, but no more than that. He let out a jaw-stretching yawn, folded his arms on the top of his desk, and then rested his head in his elbow crease. He reminded himself of his one-second time limit before drifting off to sleep …
◆ ◆ ◆
Charlie’s eyes fluttered open. Immediately, he knew that much more than one second had passed. He lifted his head off of his desk and peeked at his computer clock to check how long he had been out. Much to his surprise, the clock claimed that it was now 7:15 p.m. Charlie blinked hard to reset his pupils and checked the clock
Charlie contemplated his seemingly endless options. He knew better than to go with his first impulse: his conception. Half his class would probably pick their conception or birth, and they all would surely be docked points for their lack of originality. Many would argue that losing his parents was the most important moment in his life, but Charlie had already decided that he wasn’t going to let that affect him.
Charlie turned to the pages of his Moleskine, certain that they held the answer. He ran down his list multiple times but still couldn’t determine which moment was the most important. Arguments could be made for and against each milestone he had planned.
The harder Charlie tried to ascertain the answer to his essay, the further he felt from reaching any resolution, and the more frustrated he became. Before long, he began to sense a dull pain in his forehead. It was as if someone had his frontal lobe in a vise and was slowly cranking the handle.
Charlie knew the feeling well. He had battled stress headaches for much of his childhood. The first one came when he was in the third grade, right before he and his classmates were tested for the Gifted and Talented program. Charlie also knew that unless he did something, the pain would only get worse. So Charlie decided to call it quits on the essay for the time being. Instead, he would just focus on his other assignments and come back to the writing assignment later.
◆ ◆ ◆
After only a couple of hours in the zone, Charlie had zipped through all of his accumulated math homework. The aching in his head had long since disappeared, and it was time to move on to Biology.
Before cracking his Biology book, Charlie took a quick glance at the clock on his computer screen. It was already 10:16 p.m. While he had been successful in suppressing any thoughts of his parents and focusing on his schoolwork, he couldn’t help but think of them at that moment. It was right around that time of night that his parents would call up to him and encourage him to shut it down and go to bed. They would also wish him goodnight and tell him how much they loved him. “We couldn’t love you more,” they would shout together. It had become their nightly ritual ever since Charlie had moved to his third floor bedroom.
Charlie turned his attention to the stairs that led down to the second floor and the closed door at the bottom of the staircase. A faint light emanated from the crack in the door. He kept his eyes fixed on the entrance for a few moments, just in case, by some miracle, the call might come.
It didn’t.
Charlie sighed and shook his head. He should have known better. Back to work. He flipped to the appropriate chapter in his Biology textbook and determinedly perused the pages.
Charlie was halfway through the second chapter of his required reading when his eyelids started to feel more like sandbags. Hoping to get the blood flowing and milk some more energy from his worn-out body, Charlie stretched his limbs so long that his joints cracked and popped like bubble wrap. A tiny boost followed, but only for a minute. After that, he was worse off than before. With every sentence that his eyes attempted to interpret, it only added more sand to the bags, until the weight had become unbearable.
Charlie decided to shut his eyelids for just a second, but no more than that. He let out a jaw-stretching yawn, folded his arms on the top of his desk, and then rested his head in his elbow crease. He reminded himself of his one-second time limit before drifting off to sleep …
◆ ◆ ◆
Charlie’s eyes fluttered open. Immediately, he knew that much more than one second had passed. He lifted his head off of his desk and peeked at his computer clock to check how long he had been out. Much to his surprise, the clock claimed that it was now 7:15 p.m. Charlie blinked hard to reset his pupils and checked the clock
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