My parents gave me to the orphanage when I was five years old. They left me with the Mistress at the door; they didn't even hug me goodbye.
"We'll come back for you soon. Be strong, Izsak."
"Can't I come with you?" They turned and embraced the winter afternoon as the Mistress shut the door behind them. My question lingered in the air as I attempted to hold back my tears; attempted, but failed.
I waited for my mother and father to come back for me; I waited for five years. Every morning and every night, I peeked out the window for their silhouette against the ever-gray sky. By the time of my tenth birthday, I completely had given up on my parents' return. Instead of wishing for my parents when I blew out the flickering yellow candles on the cake the Mistress made, I wished for a younger sibling. A younger person for me to teach and take care of, like parents did for me before they gave me away. I got my wish a day after I blew out my candles.
He was skinny and short; scarcely conversed with the others with big, brown sad eyes. He reminded me of myself when I was first brought here. Mistress found him wandering around in the outdoor market, so she took him in. The only piece of information he gave us what that he was four years old. According to him, he didn't remember much else.
He and I did everything together. he looked up to me as an older brother, and in time, he told me his name: Roby.

The Winter Moons came, and brought with their arrival was the most terrible and frost-bitten snow storm ever to meet out side of the continent.
The Mistress became deathly ill and passed away. In her place, a rather fat and selfish Master took charge of the orphanage. Roby and I, along with the rest of the children, endured his stay.
The master ate almost everything in the kitchen, leaving only stale crackers and water for us to consume. When I finally reached nineteen, Roby became deathly thin, not being able to move out of bed anymore due to lack of energy. Even my late-night quests to the kitchen for food were always ending in hopelessness. The Master squandered all the food money on his five-course meals, leaving the completely dry.
Roby's moaning grew worse with every passing night; we had not been fed for a month already. His crying out of pain grew worse as well. I sneaked out to the kitchen again, but alas, my stomach growled just as the Master happened to pass by on his rounds.
"Boy, what are you doing here this late?!" His multiply-chinned face turned pink with rage. When I didn't answer, he took me by the collar and threw me to the snow-covered, gravel-paved street.
I heard shouts from the outside coming from the orphanage. Lights turned on in my wing.
"He's dead! Guys, he's actually dead!" Shock overtook me as I lied still in the snow, listening to the cries of my roommates.
"Quiet up there! You are all supposed to be in bed!"
I cried silently letting only small whimpers escape my shuddering body. My little brother, the only family I had left, had died.