You Forgot About Stories D:

I sat alone on a bench. Everything was silent, not even the birds were stirring in their nests. Why am I sitting out here at this time of the morning? I'm waiting. Waiting for someone, anyone. I'm an orphan. But no orphanage would except me. I'm a bit reckless, strange things happen whenever I get mad or excited. I don't know how it happens, it just does. My name's Olivia. Or, at least, everybody calls me that. I don't know my real name, or even my parents. Whenever people go near me, they stare and whisper like I'm special or something. But I'm not. I'm just plain ol' orphan Olivia. I think. I hope.

I heard voices coming near. I turned to see three teenagers walking towards me. Two boys, one girl. The only female had tangled brown hair and eyes to match. One of the boys had messy black hair, green eyes with glasses and . . . Something else . . . Under his fringe . . . Probably nothing. The other boy had orange hair, freckles and blue eyes. They were talking about something. I made it look as though I wasn't watching them. Then, the black haired boy pulled a long stick from his back pocket and pointed it at me. He whispered something and just before the flash of light hit me, I jumped up and rolled out of the way. Then something strange happened. The stick that the black haired boy was holding whizzed out of his hand and into mine.

You should try writing it as a paragraph it'd look more pro.