Haunted Orphanage RP

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This place is CREEPY! Which is probably why no one here gets adopted, and why there are so many ghosts...

Anyways, what will happen when a bunch of kids are living together in pretty much the WEIRDEST orphanage to exist? Especially when their caretakers are bit...old-fashioned...as in 18th century GHOSTS old. And, the monsters under their beds keep them up at night, and the doors squeak, and the faucets turn on randomely. And, most importantly, will any of them get rescued by a living family, or are they doomed to stay forever in this maze?

(I am Raina, a 13 year old girl with a serious attitude problem, and a bit of a cough)

*Ahem!* Does anyone listen to me around here? *I glance around the bustling halls, and glare at my translucent caretaker* Hey, hey, they keep hogging the bathrooms, and one of the spirits just totally spilled my drink all over my dress! Can you, like, tell the others to let me in! And why are the spirits still doing that old trick, it's happened 3 times this week!




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A little boy no older than three years enters the doorway beneath the spectre’s hovering feet. The boy’s wavy dark brown hair sticks up in all directions and his light brown skin is smudged with what looks like frosting around his cheeks. Without a word, he stares up at Raina with big brown eyes. The spirit overhead laughs and spills another cup of water on the floor before disappearing by flitting into the ceiling. The glass it once held falls to the floor and shatters between Raina and the boy’s bare feet.

Spoiler
The little boy is named Bo and he is 3 years old and though he may not know many words he is very social :) I imagine he’s wearing a t-shirt that’s a little too big for him so it’s more like a smock. That and pajama pants
Pants are an illusion. And so is death.




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At Bo's presence, Raina's eyes soften, and she hurries over to Bo's side.

"Hey, don't move, I'll clean this up, ok?"

She bends down and starts sweeping up the glass shards with her bare hands, depositing them onto her skirt, and carrying them to the trash and brushing them into the can.

"Ugh, why am I more of a caretaker than these ghosts!"

Then, seeming to notice that Bo was still standing there and looking at her with his brown eyes, she smiled a bit.

"Want to go to bed?"




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Bo shook his head fervently. He reached into his pajama pant pocket and dug out a toy truck, offering it to Raina.

“Play?” he asked.
Pants are an illusion. And so is death.



You're given the form, but you have to write the sonnet yourself. What you say is completely up to you.
— Madeleine L'Engle, A Wrinkle in Time