Willow-Run Orphanage

Just two miles out of South Hartford lies a two-floor building. On the outside it looks like it could even be a happy place, the lawn kempt and flowered vines crawling up the side of the building. Except when you walk in, you can practically feel the sadness and loss emanating from the walls. You are stopped at a double door by a guard and a nurse. They check you for anything you can use to harm yourself or others, then send you through, where you find the room key. Looking over it, it lists where everything is, and you see names. All the orphan bedrooms are on the upper floor. ‘Corrina’ boards with ‘Harlequin’. ‘Kam’ boards with ‘Trav’. ‘Josh’ boards with ‘Derrin’. ‘Rebecca’ with ‘Brittany’. ‘Johnah’ and ‘Damian’ on their own. Keys to each of the rooms sit on a little ring beside each set of names, one for each room, the keys labeled as well. Also next to the name groups is a switch. This switch turns out the lights at curfew, which is promptly nine at night, and turns them back on at six in the morning, when breakfast begins in the cafeteria, which is only unlocked during meals and snack hours.
On the bottom floor is the cafeteria, both bathrooms, girls and boys, as well as therapy rooms and a rec room. At the far end, past locked doors, is the Headmistress’s room, extravagant and beautiful with a large, four poster bed, the best silk sheets, and atop them the softest, most luxurious comfortable available in the area. Her room also holds a large, oak dresser and desk set and many beautiful keepsakes of hers. It always smells nice in the room, the smell never too faint or powerful. There are no computers in the facility, but each room has an outdated television behind Plexiglas anchored to the wall and the simple channels for cartoons, news, and a few other channels. In the orphans’ bedrooms however, is a desk and a bunk bed, along with one closet for clothing. The rooms occupied by girls are yellow and those by boys, blue. Very few things are allowed in a room, to remove the chance of self-harm or the harm of others. You are allowed books, dolls, simple accessories such as rings, hairclips, and hair ties, as well as combs, hair brushes, headmistress-accepted clothing, and music players such as Mp3s, iPods, Walkmans, and radios. Sketchbooks, notebooks, and school supplies, etc. can be found in and will stay in the rec room, where all recreational activities and such will be done. You must have a key to use the bathroom and a pass to be in the hall.
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And this is the only stuff I have saved for this, but this is to get your attention, SCOUT.
v-v

You go reply to NYC, and I'll possibly reply to this one. >>

Mhm.
c;

Just gonna assume that they're laying on Damien's bed. :3

A small smile tugged on Johnah's lips as she flipped over onto her stomach, eyes immediately finding Damien's chiseled face; cheekbones sharp, jawline strong and crisp. She delicately placed her chin on his chest, being sure not to make hiim uncomfortable or hurt him in any way -- it would't be the first time someone's complained about her 'pointy' chin hurting them. Of course, that was when she was young. Now that she's grown up some, her body has filled itself out; her boobs finally came in, and she finally got a butt. Those were the assests that got her most of the guys she has dated before. Obviously, all they wanted with her was to get into her pants. Ironically enough, that hasn't happened. Her v-card hasn't been maxed out yet. Despite her being what most guys desire, Johnah has a feeling that Damien's intentions were different. That he didn't want to get some, rather have an actual relationship instead, and Johnah was perfectly fine with that.

The creak of the door opening made Johnah's heart lurch up in her throat. She and Damien were the only ones who stayed back from school, it couldn't possibly be after school now, could it? Quickly, her eyes danced over to the little alarm clock on Damien's nightstand. 12:30. It was just barely after noon. And it wasn't like the helpers around the orphanage to barge into rooms like this person had, so it could only be one person. Carrie.

Johnah bolted up to her hands and knees and turned around, eyes wide like a deer in headlights as she caught the glimpse of Carrie's fine grey hair flying out of the door. She was immediately on her feet, eyes darting around the room as her heartbeat quickened. "She's going to kill me!" Johnah whined, her brows furrowing and face scrunching up with worry. What would Carrie do to Damien? Kick him out? It was an endless list of possibilities. Not to mention, that word of this could travel to her parents, that would raise hell for both her and Damien.

Damien sat at the edge of his bed as Carrie walked out of his room. 'I'll talk to you two later.' didn't sound very promising. In fact, it almost sounded like his imminent doom. He sat there in a cold sweat and his hands went clammy. His head hung as his stomach started flipping again, though he was sure it wasn't from the flu this time. Looking back at Johnah, Damien sighed and spoke, his voice slightly shaky. "I guess we should probably go talk to her, right?" Standing, he started for the door. With his hand on the door knob, he turned back to her for a mere second. "If you're coming... Well... I'd do it now." He waited for a moment before closing the door and heading off towards Carrie's room. He could almost hear her voice in his head now, every bad scenario, along with the good. Chances were, he was dead meat. She couldn't kick him out for another year, but she could get rid of every single privilege he had, AND separate him from Johnah. He didn't want that. With an exasperated sigh, he rapped at Carrie's door with trembling hands.