SHATTERED (wlw story)

Third Person's POV

Two little girls sat quietly under the largest tree at the playground, their eyes focused on the lively scene of children playing around. Most of the other kids were laughing, shouting, and enjoying every moment. Some were lucky enough to have new families who had come to claim them, families eager to offer them the warmth of a new life. Yet, the two girls weren't part of that world.

They were outcasts in a place that was supposed to offer belonging, but somehow, their hearts had never quite connected with the joy or the idea of being adopted. They didn't join in the games or chase after the attention of the social workers or strangers who came to pick children. They just watched, quietly, from the sidelines, as the others found their moments of happiness, moments that felt like they would never be theirs.

The other kid's black hair fell messily over her shoulders as she absentmindedly picked at the grass beneath the large tree where they sat. The soft breeze tugged at the strands, but she didn't seem to notice. She was unaware that the girl beside her, with her white hair, was lost in the same thoughts, too. Her hands gently brushed the dirt from the ground, showing no care for what she was doing.

For them, silence was easier than forced conversation. But, in that moment, something broke the silence.

"Do you think they ever notice us?" The girl with white hair said in a soft voice, almost a whisper, but it still cut through the silence between them.

Other kid blinked, surprised by the question. She hadn't expected that question, much less ask something so unexpectedly vulnerable. She turned her head toward her, studying her face for a moment. She looked just as tired as she felt.

"What do you mean?" she replied, her voice quieter than usual, even for her.

"You know... the families. The ones that take kids home. The ones who don't even see us," The white hair kid said, cleaning her hands that full of dirt, a hint of bitterness creeping into her words. "Sometimes I wonder if they know we're here, or if they just don't care."

Other kid look down at the grass she pick unaware. She didn't know how to answer that. They had both used to being invisible in this place. But it hurt, even if they didn't show it.

"I don't think they care," other girl said softly, "I think they're looking for something else, something they can love, and we... we're just not it."

White hair kid nodded, her gaze turning toward the other kids once more, but her eyes were distant, no longer seeing the lively scene before her.

"Yeah," she murmured, a small, almost unnoticeable sigh leaving her lips. "Guess we're not their type."

The air between them hung thick with the weight of those words, the silence growing again, but this time it felt different. It wasn't empty. It was like they had said something they couldn't take back, something that had always been unspoken, but now, it was there, acknowledged.

Other kid glanced at the white hair kid again, seeing the quiet sadness behind her eyes. She hadn't realized how similar they were in that moment. It was like they both had this invisible barrier between them and the rest of the world. But, in that quiet, they found comfort. In each other's silence, they understood.

"Do you ever think about leaving this place?" other kid asked, her voice low, but sharp with curiosity.

White hair kid looked up at her, her expression unreadable for a moment before a slight smile tugged at the corner of his lips.