A/N: If you haven't read at least the first chapter of Importance of a Name you will not understand this fic. If you have read the whole thing, you may still not understand it. That is OK. I'll explain at the end…
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The small room flickers in the blue firelight as a small girl of four sits very still on the floor. You may think her a statue, if it isn't for her tiny sobs every few seconds and the rise and fall of her small chest, the only indication at all that she is breathing. She pulls her torn clothes closer to her thin frame and brushes a strand of tangled black hair away from her face, darkened by dirt from the day's chores. Her emerald eyes, usually sparkling with song and laughter shine softly with tears.
Then, an unnoticed door behind her opens very slightly, revealing a sliver of golden light and another small girl. This one, a dark skinned youngster, winces as she walks to the other. They sit in silence for a minute before the dark skinned one asks,
"How do you make the fire like that?" The other girl shrugs her shoulders, not catching her friend's eye.
"I wish for it to be there really hard. It doesn't always work." More silence passes by, each girl too consumed by her own thoughts to say anything out loud. The dark skinned girl stands again, still wincing as though in pain, and prepares to leave, when the other surprises her with a short sentence.
"You didn't have to do what you did." Her friend tries to force a smile, but cannot bring her face to do it. Instead, tears quietly slip down her cheeks as she responds in a barely audible whisper.
"Yes I did." For the first time, the Caucasian girl looks up from the floor, facing her friend.
"Why, Nichele? Why did you take the blame?" Nichele sits back down on the floor, her short black hair covering her face as she refuses to face her friend now.
"You're whipped too much."
"I deserve it." Nichele glances up at her friend, who also cannot seem to bring her face to smile, though she is trying very hard. "I'm the one who comes up with the stupid ideas." Nichele turns away again, looking at her bare, dark feet, and whispers very softly.
"I wish I was brave like you, Mickie"
Mickie seems surprised to hear this, and scoots closer to Nichele trying to think of a good reply. She shakes her head in silence for a second, and decides on what to say.
"You are, Nichele." More silence follows this as the two girls enjoy each other's company. Mickie lies down and Nichele turns around, not wanting to hurt herself trying to copy her friend. The blue fire in the corner begins to fade, now that Mickie is not willing it to burn.
"How do you do it, Mickie?"
"I just told you."
"No." Nichele's face has thin tear stains to match Mickie's now, and as she talks, there is a choke in her voice. "How do you come out of a whipping smiling?" Mickie's eyes start to twinkle as she begins to tell a well- rehearsed story.
"I don't think about the pain. I make believe that my Mama and Dads come in and pick me up right before the whip hits me. It's always the same. Mama kisses my nose, and Dads breaks the whip in half, so it can't hurt anyone. Then, we all go outside and there are flowers everywhere. I run around as fast as I can and jump in a pile of leaves. Then, Dads picks me up and swings me around 'till it feels like I'm flying. Then, they take me to a really pretty house that has all kinds of flowers and trees and a doggy. And when I go inside, there are toys everywhere that I've only dreamed about and my whole room is blue and purple, and everything is perfect."
Nichele gives a sigh to say she wishes everything was that perfect as well. More silence followed Mickie's story as the girl's thoughts traveled in different directions again.
"Nichele," Mickie asks suddenly.
"Uh-huh?"
"What are a Mama and Dads like?" Now it's Nichele's turn to tell a well known story, as she obviously remembers her parents.
"My mama was the most beautiful mama in the world. She would help me tie my shoes and put ribbons in my hair. She had the prettiest voice and would sing me to sleep every night. Dads was really strong and he would build birdhouses so I could see all the pretty birds every spring. He could play piano, too. And every Christmas, he would play piano and Mama would sing, and I would dance around with my toys."
"Tell me about Christmas again, Nichele." Nichele's voice grows misty and her eyes sparkle, though the fire is now completely dead.
"Christmas is the best time in the world! It's when we all get dressed up in our prettiest dresses. Mine was always white with bows. And Santa Claus comes at night and gives presents to every girl and boy who's been good all year long all over the whole world!"
"How does he do that?"
"He has magic reindeer that can fly really fast." This all sounds like they've said this a thousand times, or more. They both seem to enjoy it though, as Mickie listens intently, her eyes glistened over as her imagination takes control, and Nichele nearly loses herself in her memories.
"Why doesn't Santa Claus ever come here?" This is a break in the usual conversation, and Nichele doesn't have an answer. She shrugs her shoulders, and cries out in sudden pain. Mickie jumps up and tries to help her. Nichele begins to cry harder than ever as she wails,
"Mickie! It hurt so much! I'll never do anything wrong again! Never ever!"
"What if it's wrong, but you don't know it's wrong," Mickie asks slyly, hoping to cheer up her friend.
This seems to be something of an inside joke, as Nichele giggles softly from behind her tears and says, "That won't count."
There is another moment of silence as Nichele gets back into a painless position, and Mickie lies back down on the cold floor.
"Do you think they'll ever come back for you?" It is obvious that Mickie means Nichele's parents by the hopeful note in her voice.
"No," Nichele answers very calmly, "Mama and Dads are angels now and they live in Heaven."
"Will you go visit them when we get out of here?" Nichele looks at Mickie curiously, and then realizes that Mickie doesn't know what Heaven is and giggles.
"No, silly!" Mickie looked very
confused, "You can't just go to Heaven like it's a store! Heaven is where you
go when you die if you haven't done anything wrong."
"Is Santa Claus in charge of Heaven?" Mickie asks, still very confused. Nichele giggles some more.
"No. God is in charge of Heaven. It's supposed to be the best place anywhere, and I know Mama and Dads are really happy there."
"Is God nice?"
"Un-huh" Nichele answers calmly, though you can tell she thinks it's a dumb question. "He's really nice."
"I wonder if my mama and dads are in Heaven too." Mickie asks, looking at the ceiling as though she can see right through it, all the way up to Heaven, itself.
"Maybe"
"Do you think mine are friends with yours?"
"I hope so" The two girls share a warm smile with each other as the door behind them is opened widely and golden light floods the room. The figure of a taller, older orphan blocks some of golden design on the floor. She is shadowed by the light behind her however, but the girls both know her voice.
"Mickie?"
"Yes, Louisa?" Mickie stands up quickly, pointlessly trying to brush some of the dirt off of herself and straighten her appearance.
"Basill wants you to handle dinner tonight. He's having a party of some sort. He said something about punishment, but I didn't catch all of it. Whatever you've done this time, he's not in a good mood because of it."
"We only wanted to go outside and see the flowers!"
"Mickie, flowers come in spring, and that's not for a while. It's only December."
"Oh. I didn't know that." Nichele giggles as Mickie follows Louisa out of the room. Nichele crawls over to the corner where the fire had been burning, to find that it's not warm at all and there is not black mark. She touches the floor with one small hand and smiles, knowing her friend will be fine.
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A/N: I honestly don't know why the depressing one-shots are pouring out of me these days. I just can't seem to stop them! Anyway, if you've read the first chapter of Importance of a Name you will recognize Basill as the cruel orphanage master where Mickie is kept and Louisa as one of the "good girls" he offers to Dumbledore instead of Mickie. Mickie is, of course, short for McGonagall (so Nichele can pronounce it).
I wanted to try writing in second person, and present tense is always a challenge I'm willing to take if it works with the story. Sorry if that makes it very confusing.
The title comes from a school poster hanging in my sixth grade homeroom class called All I Ever Need To Know (I Learned in Kindergarten) It's a very cute poster that explains in tiny print everything you learn in Kindergarten, Like why not to bite the teacher, and how to gang up on other politicians (classmates).
I found it almost oddly fitting here because they're learning what they need to know to survive the orphanage… my creepy mind at work in other words….
Also, Nichele and Mickie call their parents Mama and Dads because that was what Nichele called hers and Mickie, not remembering her own, just calls the ones she made up by the same names.
FYI: Nichele is pronounced "NEESH elle" think of the Beatle's song "Michele" and replace the 'M' with an 'N'.
PHEW! Long Author note, sorry!