SCHELKOVA, Russia -- Yevgenya is a bright, beautiful girl who can say ``My name is Genya'' in English without a trace of an accent.

Her mother is dead and her father is in prison for theft. He was released last year and brought 11-year-old Yevgenya home from the Schelkova temporary orphanage. It didn't last, though. He was back in prison within months and Yevgenya was back at the orphanage. Court proceedings are now being scheduled to terminate his parental custody.

What will happen to Yevgenya? No one knows for certain, but her future is bleak.

As a ward of the state, Yevgenya will move on to a dyetskii dom (permanent children's home). She will live with a large group of parentless children in a dormitory-style room. She will attend Russian public schools, but probably will not be encouraged to go to college.

Who will kiss her before bed? Who will hug her when she has nightmares? Who will help her through her first period, tell her that not all boys who say they love her really do, teach her there is nothing she can't do?

And what is waiting for her when she finally graduates from the orphanage at age 18? Not much, according to Russian experts.

According to Russia's prosecutor general, 20 percent of children released from children's homes every year will develop criminal records, 30 percent will become addicted to drugs or alcohol, and 10 percent will commit suicide within a year.

Those who beat the odds emerge remarkably ill-equipped to run their own lives. Many have never handled money, ridden public tranport, gone to the grocery store or held a job. Most have never been outside their own town.

The state once had to provide housing and jobs for orphanage graduates, but the current precarious economic situation ended that practice. Eighty percent of social orphans -- those who have at least one living parent -- have no right to an apartment at all, according to Rights of the Child, a Moscow children's rights advocacy group. The law ``reserved their right'' to return home to the parents who gave them up years ago.

Surviving in Russia takes ingenuity, drive and individualism, not qualities the orphanage system's group mentality fosters, says Oleg Zykov, a psychiatrist who heads the No To Alcoholism And Drug Abuse Foundation that works with street children.

``At age 15, you're thrown into this world not only without moral values, but without even elementary skills like how to live for a whole month on the money you receive today,'' Mr. Zykov told the Associated Press in Moscow. ``To say nothing of how to build a relationship with a partner, how to form a family, how to behave at work.''

Russia's social prejudice against orphans and its system of inscribing identity papers with home addresses combines to make life especially difficult for young people looking for jobs.

``They go to apply for a job and have to present their documents that say they grew up in an orphanage,'' said Kerry Marks, director of Christian World Adoption's Russia program. ``The employer looks at that and says, something must be wrong with them, otherwise why did their parents give them up?''

With little chance of finding a decent job, adult orphans often turn to crime or prostitution or end up homeless.

Rob Richardson, of Matherville, knows Yevgenya and her friend Masha, who visited the Quad-Cities last summer, have a rough life ahead of them. During a variety show performance at their orphanage, Mr. Richardson's eyes continally wandered back to the girls, searching their faces for clues to their futures.

``I just sat there looking at her and wondering where is Masha going to be in a year?'' Mr. Richardson said. ``Will she always have that smile? Will she always express who she is through her laughter, or will something in her future bury who she really is and turn her into something else?''