I : A Thieving Stray
It smelled of mold and mildew in the miserable cell. The stone bricks surrounding weren't a welcoming sight and the floor was uneven and cold, too indecent to call comfortable. The only sources of light were the torch fixtures hanging on the hallway's wall. But they were at too far of a distance to give any illumination to the chamber she sat in. And the flaming wood sticks certainly weren't giving off any heat.
She shivered and huffed as she tried to warm herself up in the soggy prison cell. Her front hands were bonded in front of her with heavy metal cuffs that covered her palms to her entire wrist. The chains attached to the bracelet were joined together at the back wall, the one she presently avoided.
The tiny jail may have been underground, but the back wall had gaps at the top where the outside world could briefly shine through. Large metal bars prevented any escape, though the spaces were too tight for anyone, even a child, to squeeze through. The young girl could hear the world moving about her, the small chat of people, the faint bells of the church ringing, the clopping of carriage horses' hooves against the cobble streets.
She didn't belong her. She knew everyone who ever ended up in her spot would automatically think that. But she truly, honestly didn't belong in a jail cell. She was no criminal! She was no delinquent! She was no thief!
How come she was thrown in here but the others weren't? So what, she took a single apple from the stand. It would have mattered. There wasn't a supply in demand for fruit, for heaven's sake!
But because she was different those ratty boys had to chase her down the alley with their flat caps and suspenders. They had to torment her by tossing rocks and cans. And one of them, a brunet with a nasty looking scowl, took his long stick (presumably used for playing a type of ball-game) and swung hard at her right side.
The girl winced as she felt the fresh pain still present in her abdomen.
Her stomach growled as she stared at the ceiling, merely whimpering.
So hungry, she thought. Why else would I be stealing?
Her thoughts went back to others in the orphanage. Sweet, innocent Caiti from another country, Ryan who acted like the fatherly figure they all needed desperately, Ray who could make any of them laugh even when they were down, and poor Kerry with a splint and crutches who was told he'd never be able to function correctly.
They had all been told mean things by adults, by teens, by kids.
The orphans at Father Rooster Mother Hen Orphanage were considered outcasts to the city of Achievement Burg.
It had been her turn to get the food. The orphanage was struggling with finances; no donations had been made in many months. The water pipes had broken, a tree had caved in on the roof, and windows were broken by bully teenagers.
Missus Ashley treated the children like her own, being the mom they deserved. Unfortunately, Ryan did have to play the father, Master Burnie was too busy trying to pay the bills and keep the building intact to interact with the inhabitants. But the kids didn't complain, Ryan and Missus Ashley were enough.
A loud clank of the door slamming shut was heard down the hallway.
She raised her head and watched as a figure approached. The person was further down the corridor and closer to her cell. As a flare of light bounced in from the small gaps, she got a good look at the person.
The person didn't look like the mean guards who hadn taken her in, quite the opposite in fact.
She was fairly tall with long blond hair and beautiful blue eyes. She was smiling at the prisoner, a food tray in her hand. She was wearing a light blue dress with frilly white curls around the writs and waist and it looked like she was wearing a white apron on top.
The girl in shackles looked away, ashamed of what she was wearing. The orphanage tried to help the children and gave them all they could. Sadly, they could not afford the nicest of clothes and both girls and boys were dressed like street rats.
The blonde was in prim attire while the young inmate sat in a reused purple shirt with black capris and what could only be passed by as shoes.
The girl outside the cell sat down in front of the iron bars and lifted a gate in the front. She slid the meal through and closed the gate back up. Fortunately, she had pushed it far enough so she didn't have to try and reach. Though eating it would be difficult, considering she could only use her hands tied up.
The grub consisted of a loaf of bread, green beans, and three medium-sized hunks of white meat. Based on the smell and look, she guessed chicken.
She glanced down at the food and then back up at the pretty blonde.
Wait, what? No, I didn't think that…I-I didn't. She told herself.
As if she was reading the girl's mind, the blonde said, "Go ahead. Don't be shy, that's for you."
Despite being miserable from the depressing room and from the predicament she was currently dealing with at hand, she couldn't help but smile and feel her spirits lifted from the other girl's positive voice.
The shackled girl reached forward, first to the bread, and took a bite.
Oh she hadn't eaten in days!
She didn't realize that she had started to scarf down the food until she noticed the other girl giggling, her hand raised up to her mouth politely.
The prisoner blushed, averting her eyes, afraid of a judgmental gaze. She feared comments about her being impolite and rude…but she never heard them spoken. Just the sweet laughter…
S-stop! She chided herself.
"I'm sorry, I should probably introduce myself," the blonde said, getting the girl to look in her direction once more. "My name is Miss Barbara Dunkelman. I'd prefer Barbara, the whole Miss thing is something my dad forces me to use. Not my decision. I guess you could say it's miss-leading…"
Barbara gave two thumbs up with a big smile while the other girl simply shook her head, but Barbara noticed her lips curling.
Barbara moved her hands towards the cell, getting it past the iron bars. She held it out like she wanted to shake hands.
The girl took it and they shook.
As Barbara retracted her hand, she asked the quiet girl, "So who are you? If you don't mind me asking, of course."
The girl look shocked. No one really ever took the time to learn her name, only ever the kids at the orphanage.
"Um…m-my name is Arryn."
Barbara smile grew as she heard the girl speak her name.
"Well hi, Arryn. Nice to make your acquaintance."
Arryn smiled at her but the room quickly fell to silence. They both looked awkwardly about the room, quite uncomfortable from the silence. Out of the corner of her green eye, Arryn could see Barbara twiddling with her hair, twirling a single strand around her finger.
She knew she was being quiet, she didn't know how to start a conversation with Barbara. The girl seemed nice and funny but she had never been great with social situations. Arryn didn't talk to many kids her age. But she was scared that if the quiet were to continue, Barbara would leave. She didn't want that to happen. She didn't want to be alone.
"Um…why-why have you come here?"
Barbara looked up.
"Well Adam told me to deliver the food." Barbara gestured to the empty trey that once held a well-cooked meal.
"Oh…" Arryn said dejectedly. So she had only visited to drop the food off? Not to see who the girl was? Or why she was here?
Barbara seemed to notice the girl's hurt expression and quickly reacted.
"B-but I would have visited anyway! I don't get to speak to many kids my age. Father is always busy being Mister Big Important in Charge," Arryn giggled as Barbara put on a mock-stern mien and lifted her arms acting like she was a big man. "He's always having big dinner parties and banquets where I have to wear tight dresses and greet snobs. It's bad enough I have to deal with them but sometimes they bring along their bratty children."
Barbara tugged at the collar of her dress, almost like it was choking her.
"At least Gavin is there, though. He's a nice kid. His mom, Mary, is a really nice maid in our home. Gavin likes to hang outside and sometimes we go on walks and sometimes we just sit on the fountain and chat. And Adam and Joel are good, too. They're chefs in the kitchen. They're food is real yummy. Did you enjoy it?"
Arryn looked at the itsy crumbs on the pristine plate, nodding in agreement.
"So what is it like where you're from? I mean, I haven't been down here before. It's so gloomy in here, it looks like a prison," It is. "It's nothing like anywhere else in the mansion. It wouldn't be nice to be guests in a cell like a criminal."
Arryn gulped. Was Barbara really that naïve? She didn't see that sometimes the adults believe kids belonged in cuffs just like murderers, even though they were just trying to survive?
"Um…" Arryn decided against saying why she was here. "I-I…I live at Father Rooster Mother Hen Orphanage."
Barbara tilted her head, confused.
"I-I don't have any parents. I don't know who they are."
Barbara placed a hand on her chest and gaped at Arryn. Arryn felt her own heart plummet; afraid the statement had disgusted the blonde. And just when she thought she made a friend…
"That's awful! You don't have a mom or a dad?"
Arryn looked up, baffled, and slowly nodded her head.
"I-I…I didn't grow up with a mom, either. While she had me, she had gotten sick. When I was born, I lived but she didn't survive. I don't think my dad has ever forgiven me for it."
"What? Why? It wasn't your fault!" Arryn exclaimed.
Barbara looked up and Arryn thought she had been doing well by saying that, but she had unintentionally struck a nerve.
"Father thinks it is. I-I'm sorry, I have to go."
Barbara started to stand up. Arryn jumped forward.
"What? No! Please! I'm sorry; I didn't know that I shouldn't have said that. Please don't leave me alone!"
The blonde stood and stared at the floor. She spoke, her voice quiet and cold, any happiness gone, "Father would want me back."
And without any goodbye, she left, slamming the chamber's door.
Arryn gawped at the end of the room, at the door that was just thumped shut, at where a cheery Barbara had just been staring.
The orphan whimpered as she brought her knees close to her chest, closing her eyes and placing her head on her knees.
This was officially the worst day of her life.