Heyaaa guys, Just an Orphan Girl has been nominated for the Teen Wolf FanFic category, voting starts January 6th, and would be really cool if you guys could chuck me a vote :)

thanks and enjoying Orphan girl

Claire xx

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Have you ever wished you could swap lives with someone else?

Take their spot in life and everything that goes with it.

The way they look, their personality, their family, them altogether?

Trust me; I do this all the time. I walk through the school hallways and wonder what life would be like being someone important. What it would be like if everyone knew my name and who I was. I think about these things constantly. I think about it in class, at work, in my room, everywhere basically.

Thoughts like these don't ever leave my mind.

I was left on the doorstep at the Bluestone orphanage when I was a young child, and haven't seen my parents ever since that day. All I have from them is a photo of the three of us together from the day I was born and a small ripped newspaper article describing their death.

To this day I can still remember the day I found out they were dead. I can recall running to the door after hearing a soft knock late one night. It was almost dark outside, and we were in the middle of winter meaning it was way too cold for people to be standing outside for too long. I can discreetly recall the policemen's expressions when they saw the big smile on my face as I opened the door. They each took their hats off and placed it on their chests. I was little; I didn't have a single clue what they were doing.

"Oakley Green?" The policeman in the middle of the three men asked. He bent down so he was at my level and could see me properly.

Suddenly becoming shy, I dropped my eyes to the ground and nodded.

The policeman smiled sadly at me. "Is Mary home darl?"

Right on cue I can still remember the sharp screech in Mary's voice when she called my name from the kitchen. "Oakley close the door, you're letting the cold air inside."

I blushed deeply and pushed the door open for the officers to walk through. They walked ahead of me slowly trying to find where the kitchen was located. I was only six years old; I didn't understand why they were in my house at the time.

"Mary, we're very sorry to intrude into your house at this hour, but can we speak to you for a moment please?" The man who spoke to me at the door asked her. Mary jumped up from the chair she was sitting on, and brushed down on the apron she was wearing.

"Oh of course, is everything alright officer?" She asked, her voice filling with concern.

The policemen looked down at me then back up towards Mary. Even a six year old can realize when she's not wanted in the room. Mary rushed me out of the kitchen and into my bedroom but being the sticky beak I was back then, I crept down out of my room and lent my ear against the door wanting to listen in about what was so important that I wasn't allowed to hear in the first place.

I could faintly hear the muffled voices, but when I did I new it wasn't going to be something pleasant.

"We understand Oakley lives here and has for most her life, but we agreed that she has a right to know." I heard a deep voice say.

"She's already been through enough grief as it is, telling Oakley that her parents were murdered by wolves will only bring more heart ache to the small child. She can only handle so much." Mary said with a cold, emotionless voice.

"The choice is up to you Mary whether you tell her or not. We are very sorry for any inconveniences that this might bring to you." One of them said.

"No, thank you for informing me. You have yourself a good night officers." Mary told them.

That was all I heard before I fell to the floor. I didn't understand why I was here at the orphanage, but I always thought my parents were just on holidays and when they were finished traveling the world they were going to come back for me, so we could be a happy family together. They couldn't be dead. I never even got to meet them properly.

The next day when I got home from school I saw in the mailbox a newspaper with mum and dads faces on the front page. Not knowing how to read properly back then, I went to my next door neighbors house who I was friendly with and asked her to read it to me.

'Laura and Nathan Green killed in a serious wolf attack,' read the front page. From that day on I have kept the article with me and I still read it almost every night before I got to bed.

One thing that hurts me the most was the fact that Mary never told me herself about mum and dad. If I hadn't see the newspaper I would probably still be in hope that they were coming back for me. At least now I knew they were never coming back. Nor were they ever on holidays. They simply just didn't want me.

A few months after mum and dads death, Mary gave me a few boxes from the basement and told me it was some of my old stuff from back when I was real little. Inside one of the boxes, I found a necklace. I recognized this necklace as soon as I saw it. It was the same cross chain which my mother wore in the photo I have of her. As soon as I saw it I knew I was going to take care of it even if my life depended on it.

From that day on I have worn the necklace every single day and have not taken it off for anything. I will wear it for the rest of my life to remind me of my mother. I will never take it off.

It's a gold chain with a purple cross on it. I hide it under my clothes so people can't see it, and it doesn't draw any attention. I have been told it is worth thousands of dollars,but I wouldn't exchange it for the world.

I still remember the day when I found it, ten or so years ago. I thought I was the luckiest kid in the world. If I told that to people at my high school now they would probably all just laugh at me and call me immature.

The difference between me and all the other girls at my school is they don't have to care about anything other than what clothes they're going to wear to school the next day, and what boys they'll sleep with next.

No one at school knows about my life and what I do at home, and for that, I'm actually grateful. I couldn't imagine what life would be like if they did. It would be even more horrible than it already is I'm sure.

They just wouldn't be able to comprehend that when school finishes I go home to an orphanage filled with more than fifteen other kids that I'm not related to. They wouldn't understand that I work nearly every night to pay for my school fees, my car and everything that goes with it. To them, that's what parents are for.

That's their job.

Not a 17 year old girl like myself.

I was lucky enough to receive some money from my parents before they left me stranded here alone. It was invested in an account until I turned sixteen. With most of that money I bought myself a second hand little white car. There was no way in the world I would be able to pay for everything all on my own although a car is really the one thing I desperately needed. It runs well and gets me to the places I need to get to, so I'm not too fussed about what it looks like.

I walked into school after locking my car, to see girls laughing at me. They do this all the time now. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary for me. They all point and laugh, I don't understand why though. I always try not to take any notice of them when they do. It used to affect me all the time. I would constantly ask them what joy they got out of torturing me. Although that would only provoke them even more. I learnt the hard way, to keep my mouth closed.

Now I guess I just didn't care what they thought about me.

They're happy making fun of me so I let them have their fun. You all just wait though, one day when I'm a successful woman and you're working at McDonald's for the rest of your lives, then we'll see whose laughing.

Looking at my time table to double check what my first subject for the day was, I groaned when I read it suddenly wishing I didn't get out of bed this morning.

Because all I need to brighten my Monday morning was Italian.

I walked through the main hallway to get to my class with my head down. I wouldn't be surprised if half the losers around here even knew my name. Reaching my classroom I walked in and looked around about to stroll to my usual seat only to see it taken by none other than Scott Williams.

Scott was officially the most irritating jerk I had ever met in my entire life. He was so obnoxious and rude to everyone just because he thought that he owned the school and was better than everyone else. Although, he wasn't really like all the other jerks in my year level. They all laugh at me, and trip me in Gym class; he was different in a frustrating type of way. He would never laugh with his friends when they tripped me or called me names, but nor would he stop them either. He was always standing back in the crowd, watching me like I was something to eat. It was rather creepy.

After glaring at him for a few minutes, he still didn't move out of my seat. Instead he was smirking back at me like he'd achieved something. I huffed and made my way to the only spare desk that was left in the room; the very front of the class.

Sitting at the front of the class is the worst. It sucks even more when you're not in the mood to answer questions, or really don't want the teacher to notice you. I wasn't the smartest student around, but neither was I the dumbest. I actually knew quite a bit I just didn't want to draw attention to myself by putting my hand up and answering things just in case people made fun of me if I got it wrong. As I said, sitting at the front of the class is the worst, it's even better when you haven't done your homework.

Mr. Miles walked into class looking around at all of us, noticing me straight away, Of course he would; I don't think I have ever sat in the front row in this class before, nor the second for that matter. He was probably just surprised in seeing me.

"Ciao ragazzi," he greeted us in Italian.

"Ciao Signor Miles," the class replied, their voices syncing in with each others.

After calling out the roll to see who was here he started making his way around to each desk respectively to see if we'd done the set homework or not. When he reached my desk, he stopped in front of it.

"Oakley, once again I see you haven't completed your homework I set for over the weekend?" Mr. Miles spoke loudly causing everyone's eyes to stare at my back. He knew that I hadn't done it; he was only doing this to embarrass me in front of the entire class.

I shook my head, looking down at my desk, wanting to disappear from not only the classroom, but the world itself right now.

"And why is that Miss Green?" He smirked down at me.

"I didn't have any time, Sir." I muttered.

"You're a 17 year old girl Oakley, what could you possibly be doing every night after school and on the weekend that you don't have time to write an essay for me? It's not that hard Oakley." He sighed in disappointment.

"I saw her at a strippers club last night; she even scored her own pole this time!" The schools bitch Brittney laughed.

My face went red as a tomato whilst everyone laughed at me. I looked up at Mr. Miles, he didn't look the slightest bit upset or angry at Brittney, there was even a small smile on his face as well as everyone else in the class.

Un-bloody-believable.

"You would know she was there wouldn't ya Brit." Girls gasped and guys 'oooood'.

Brittney was beyond angry now. I turned around to see who it was that defended me and noticed Scott leaning back in his seat holding his hands out waiting for recognition. All the boys around him, hi-fived him and patted him on the back, congratulating him, like he was a superstar or something.

"Well Oakley?" Mr. Miles asked bringing the attention away from Scott and back towards me.

"I told you Sir, I just didn't have any time this weekend that's all," I told him a little louder.

"I understand that being a teenage girl, you must have such a busy life partying and going out with your friends, but from now on if you don't start taking school seriously you're going to get anywhere in life do you understand that Oakley? If every weekend you go to parties and drink, have fun, your studies will only get worse. You actually need to try this year." He snapped at me. Please, if only he understood half of what I did on the weekend's maybe he would give me a break for once.

"Excuse me?" I asked, whispering not believing that a teacher could be so rude to a student.

"Get out of my classroom Oakley; I just can't get through to you anymore for some reason. On Wednesday you are spending your afternoon in detention with me. I am sick to death of you not doing your homework. Do you think that you're different than everyone else? You think you should get special treatment or something? I'm sick of it Oakley! Sick to death of it!" He shrieked in my face.

This wasn't happening. Things like this didn't happen to me. I had never gotten a detention before. I got up from my seat slowly and walked towards the teacher's desk waiting for him to hand me the ugly yellow detention slip.

"Why Oakley? You were such a great student last year. What happened all of a sudden?" He whispered, now that everyone in the class were all talking to each other.

"I grew up." I walked out of the room closing the door behind me.

I hated it when teachers asked me this. They all asked me the same question all the time. 'Why Oakley, what happened to you?'

I realized life is hard and that there's no easy way out of it. It's not about rainbows and butterflies anymore. It's not a game like it used to be when we were little and free. It's either the hard way or nothing at all. Not even the teachers understand me. They would never understand what it was like for me.

I feel like I'm all alone in this crazy world sometimes.

The day went by slowly. People were still staring at me, girls were still laughing at me. All I wanted to do was fade away. The sad thing about it was nobody would care if I did.

I honestly don't think people would even realize I was gone.

You want to know what the worst part about school is? I have no friends, not one.

A few years ago when I first started high school I had a bunch of friends, I loved them to death. Clueless me didn't realize they were all just pretending to like me so afterwards they could make fun of me when I wasn't around. I honestly thought they wanted to hang around me because they liked me for me.

Clearly I was wrong.

Coming to school every day knowing that there will be no one waiting for you at the gate to walk into class with you, no one to help you with the homework if you're stuck on a math question, or no one to save you a seat at lunch time is pretty dam hard. Then again, hard is an understatement. The people at this school don't understand what it's like to be an outcast. You never really do until you actually become one I guess.

A few of the kids at the orphanage say it's my fault I don't have friends at school or at work. That I don't put myself out there enough for them to like me. I guess I'm just sick of trying every day. My whole life I have put myself out for other people and done what they told me to. It's time for me to realize, if people want to hang out with me they'll come to me not the other way around.

As I approached my locker to get my books and get the hell out of here, I saw Scott squatting beside it and ripping stuff off it frantically.

This is exactly what I needed today. More drama.

"What are you doing?" I asked walking faster towards my locker to see what was going on.

He was almost shocked to see me there. As if he didn't know it was my locker that he was squatting at. "Oakley I didn't do it I swear, I saw it and wanted to take it down before you saw it. You have to believe it wasn't me," he stood up, still trying to hide the view of my locker from me.

"Can you move please? All I want to do is get my books." I didn't have time to listen to his speech, I had to get home and get away from people like him.

Sighing in defeat, he shuffled over slowly letting me through. I bent down and froze in shock seeing what was taped all over my locker. Pictures of a stripper were taped all over it, with my school photo tapped over the head. Under it, was written in messy writing in what I think might have been pink nail polish was. "Go home Slut, you don't belong here!"

I stared at it, tears threatening to fall out. I could see Scott hovering behind me unsure what to do, or how to comfort me. I kicked my locker as hard as I could and ran out of the school building. I didn't need my books tonight. Homework could wait. I hated school; it was by far the worst place in the world. Tears fell to the floor but I didn't care at this point. I just wanted to be by myself in my room, alone, where no one could find me.

I couldn't stand being at school with these types of people for another minute. Girls who think that they're better than everyone else and guys who think they can get any girl they want because they are on the football team, seriously, what has happened to society?

As I ran to my car and looked back before stepping in. I saw Scott looking at me, burning a hole through me. I didn't understand his facial expression, his look was anger mixed with sorrow. Why was he even at my locker, trying to get rid of it before I saw it?

I'm sure he's just like everyone else. He was a jerk, just like every other human being at this school. It was probably him that put it on my locker in the first place and just didn't want to own up to it.

******

I was in my room doing my math homework when my phone started vibrating on my bed. Getting of my desk chair and walking over to it, I flipped open my crappy black phone and saw Mary's name appear on the screen.

Mary was the owner of the Bluestone orphanage I stayed at. She looked after us all by herself which has always been a challenge for her. A few years ago, she finally cracked and realized it was all too hard for her to deal with so she asked me to help pitch in around the house. Now it was just something she expected from me. I had to help out and do all sorts of chores like's it's my own place.

She was barley even here to call it her own house though.

"Hello?" I picked up.

"Oakley, I need you to go pick up Daisy from soccer training in ten minutes. I'm not going to be home till late, so you need to cook dinner for everyone too." It's not like I have a life or anything.

"But I have work at seven Mary, that's almost impossible. What time will you be home?" I asked.