The orphanage loomed like a dreaded disease as the car pulled into the large stone drive. The driver was an old man. The best word to describe him would be gray. He got out and opened the car door for you. It creaked like a moaning lover as the orphanage came into full view.

It was tall, with trees dead from the curse of winter surrounding it. The walls were stone and gray with ivy creeping up to wrap around the structure in an embrace.