The Forgotten Children

“Ms. Morgan! What a pleasure it is to finally meet you! I’m so glad you’re here. It really is an honor to have you at our facility.” I nod, but say nothing. The bright, bubbly lady at the center begins to walk down a brightly lit, clean hallway. The walls are painted vibrantly with fun, geometric designs and patterns. She notices me looking at the walls. “Do you like art, Ms. Morgan?”

“Indeed I do. It’s a hidden passion of mine.” I reply.

“Excellent! Most excellent indeed. Well, this particular hallway was painted by a little girl by the name of Faye Burnstein. She is our most pricey child. A child prodigy in mathematics, science, literature, and the arts. Very beautiful too. I tell you, Mrs. Morgan, that girl is going places, much like yourself. I imagine that that young girl much reminds you of yourself as a child.”

That’s rather unfathomable. I think, but say instead, “I’m sure she is a delightful girl, Mrs. Pierce.”

“She certainly is. Come, come, we are almost there.” She ushers me into a well lit, clean room, scattered with books and toys, so unlike the ones I grew up in. The children here are well groomed, working with teachers and doctors, doing all kinds of activities. All of the children in here look the same--perhaps not in appearance, no--but rather in mannerism. They all smile brightly, laughing and playing and learning. They wear bright sundresses and pressed pants and their hair is done in braids or pig-tails or other styles. Mrs. Pierce stands back, watching me as I look around.

“See anyone you like, Ms. Morgan?”

“They are all delightful children, I’m sure. But I was thinking of a less expensive child.”

“Lead the way, Ms. Morgan. The further you go, the less expensive the child.”

“I know.” I say. “I grew up in a facility much like this one.” She nods.

“Most of us do. What was your family like?” I give her a sly smile.

“Men and women alike have been trying to get that information out of me since I turned 18. I’m afraid, Mrs. Pierce, that you are going to be equally unsuccessful.” She looks slightly taken aback, but recovers well with a smile.

“My apologies, Miss. I didn’t mean to pry. It’s just, your whole childhood is so… mysterious.”

“That was the idea,” I chuckle, walking further and further down the halls. It’s a large facility and as we go, I can see the children get older, less happy, and less educated.

“Miss Morgan, the children beyond here are going to be much below your stature. May I recommend these children to you?”

“No, I don’t think so. I’d like to keep going please.” She looks surprised.

“Well, I mean, if you insist. But I really believe you will not find anything up to your standards past this point.”

“We shall see about that. If you’d accompany me, perhaps I’ll shed some light on that mysterious past of mine. Of course, you’d be sworn to secrecy.”

She nods. “Everything is confidential here, Miss.”

We walk for a bit in silence. There are less and less adults as we go, and the children get older and sadder. Mrs. Pierce is getting nervous now, as we pass the 5,000 point kids, 4,000, 3,000, 2,000. She looks as if she’d like to run. The floors are dirty and she tries her best to redirect me but I stand firm. The click, click, click of my heels on the tiles are loud in here, and dirty faces peer curiously out of the doors. We are at the 500 point children now.

“Miss I really think we should turn aro--” I cut her off.

“Mrs. Pierce, do you know why my past is so secret?” I step into the last doorway. The 100 point children peer at me curiously.

“No, Miss Morgan, I don’t.”

“Well. I was a 100 point child for most of my life. Raised in a room just like this one. I was never adopted, I aged out. You see, my leg was deformed, and I couldn’t walk well. I had to wear glasses and my teeth were crooked. When I finally aged out, I worked hard. I got enough money saved up to get the surgeries that made me look presentable, even pleasant, to the world. Then I studied from an older gentleman who had a soft spot for music. I would sing for him as payment for my lessons. He set me up with a midwife, and I worked for her until she took me to work for a nurse, and then she took me to work with a doctor, who in turn apprenticed me with a surgeon. I was not one of the children that got an education. I was not the one that people came to see. We were thrown in the back and every night we would tell stories to each other and then I would sing everyone to sleep. That was my childhood. We are not our number, but rather the quality of our character. And that is why I am here. I want every child that is under 500 points. Every last one.” Looking at their faces, seeing myself reflected in their eyes, I can’t leave them, I just can’t. Mrs. Pierce doesn’t even attempt to hide her shock. She can’t speak for a moment before attempting to compose herself.

“Yes, Miss. Of course, Miss. But Miss, that's over 15 children!” I walk over to the oldest girl.

“Hey there. What’s your name?” I ask her.

“Gracie.” She says softly.

“Gracie. It’s very nice to meet you. My name is Eliza Morgan.” She looks up at me in awe. “How many of you are there?”

“18, Miss Morgan.”

“Excellent. And please, dear, call me Eliza.” I turn back to the nurse. The poor thing is white as a ghost, she looks as though she could faint at any moment. I call Jaxon and tell him to bring 3 limos down to the facility.

“Mrs. Pierce, I do beg you to think carefully about these children. I shall be returning to this establishment frequently, and I do hope that when I return, I see an improvement in the back halls.”