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Savannah Drewe

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You watched as Miss. Voliot used the curling iron to help you twist your hair into wide, smooth waves so that your blond locks flowed like the ocean. You watched as she powdered your cheeks with the soothing, pink blush that she bought day before. It wasn't in her budget and you knew. But Miss. Voliot wanted to make sure you were "taken"; and the only way that could happen was if you looked beautiful. You would be just one in a long line of children. There would be tall, short, thin, and plump. There would be those who were adept in soccer and those who were connoisseurs at the piano. There were those with a long list of accolades and those that whose paintings rivalled Picasso. And, there was you. You were average - always floating in the middle. You were never really extraordinary at anything. Just mediocre. So, you had to look beautiful to make an impression.

As Miss. Voliot put the finishing touches on you - straightened your dress, hooked your bangles, and buckled your sandals - Miss. Collins barged in shouting "OK CHILDREN. IT'S TIME! MAKE SURE YOU LOOK YOUR BEST. IT'S NO ONE ELSE'S FAULT BUT YOURS IF YOU FAIL." She knocked Paul across the head cause his shirt was a bit rumpled and then cursed loudly at almost every child she passed by. As she barged out with the same force she did coming in, Miss. Voliot walked over to Paul to whisper a comforting word. It was good she was there to make sure none of Miss. Collins's harsh words ever dug deeper than they should. You all knew Miss. Collins wanted all of you gone. She blamed you for her single status and her wrinkles while she should have been denouncing her parents. Miss. Voliot ran back to you to give you a kiss and then you all walked in a linear procession out the door.

They were sitting on a chair- The woman crossing her legs and biting her nails and the man's hand tenderly placed on her lap. They were good for you. They weren't the rich, pompous folk that came in looking for a child to be an heir and to spoil rotten - The ones that would leave you with a thousand nannies, a hefty allowance and an even heftier hole in your heart. They were the ones who had been trying for years to have a child and needed one not to be a recipient of all their money but all the love and care that was harbored in them. Miss. Collins announced the adoptees' names dryly and said "They are a family, but they are not complete. Maybe one of you could make the difference."

You were all in a straight line. Each of you would have your turn - 5 minutes each to make an impression. There were 20 of you. Last week, you were 21 but Linny got adopted. She was always the pretty one. At least that's what Miss. Collins said. She told all of you to emulate her. Miss. Collins's face practically screamed "I told you so" when Linny got adopted by a well-to-do family. Your turn came up third. You walked slowly into the room that the adoptees occupied. You spoke the words of your rehearsed speech that included your name, your age, and little things about you that would presumably impress them. And then, you burst out crying. You had been there many times before and tasted rejection. Tears dropped down your face as you quietly whispered "I just want a home..." and ran out. Shortly after, Mrs. Collins walked out. She had just finished apologizing incessantly to the adoptees for your behaviour. She threw you a condemning glance and spat in your face. You just sat there curled up at the corner convinced you were done for and watched as the other sixteen got their try. You saw them all - the connoisseurs, the athletes and the prodigies as they came out with their heads held high. Then there was Paul. Mediocre like you. Probably didn't have a shot.

Miss. Collins came over about 15 minutes later to tell you it was time. You stood there once again, in that miserable line and waited. You lifted your head as the adoptees walked in - The woman with a huge grin on her face and her husband calm and collected. The woman started, "We are very happy to have the opportunity to see you all and, we've made our choice." Her husband glanced at her. She continued "Sorry, I meant we've made our choices. The names of the two children we believe would fit into our family the most are....Paul and Savannah."

The man spread his arms out as Paul ran over to him. He raised him up 4 feet into the air and twirled him round; both of them with huge smiles pasted across their faces. You just stood there watching. Then, the woman walked up to you and said "That's you dearie. Savannah, we chose you." It took a second for it to click and then a huge grin spread across your face. Mrs. Drewe took you in her arms. "You have a home baby, right here," she said gesturing towards her heart. Mr. Drewe came over with Paul still around him. He said "Hi. We are Thomas and Tamara Drewe. But you can call us mom and dad if you wish."

Miss. Collins escorted the connoisseurs, athletes and prodigies back to their rooms. Miss. Voliot came over with your bags in hand saying "Guess that blush was worth it eh?" You let out a small giggle and then gave her a big hug goodbye. "Don't forget to come visit," she said to you and Paul "I love you both."

You walked out of Haven Orphanage that day with Paul and the Drewes. Paul, still smiling while holding on to Mr. Drewe's shoulders and you holding on tightly to Mrs. Drewe's hand and thinking "Savannah Drewe. Savannah Drewe."




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