Gold metal

If I dug deep into my memory, I could recall the time my mother carried me onto the boat. I clung to her neck and sat in her arms. She put me down on the deck, gave me a kiss and walked away. I have never seen her since.

I remember she was a very beautiful woman, the most beautiful I'd ever seen; but I can no longer picture her face, only the way her dark hair blew in the wind, occasionally stroking my cheeks and the clacking of her high heels.

Another year has passed without a word from her. I know in my heart she is not coming for me. In the twelve years I have been at the care home, not one child has walked away with his or her real parent and there was no reason why I should be any different.

Anyway, I have decided something: This is my favourite place. Right here in the woods, where you can be alone with only your thoughts and the singing of the larks. I don't usually like open spaces, they make me anxious, but it is safe here.

I have to go back soon, and help the care home staff make dinner. With twenty hungry little mouths to feed and still being short of staff, they really need all the help they can get. I don't mind doing it, just as long as I don't have to talk.