Live Another Day

Author's Note: So this is chapter two, and things get stranger. Emmy's last name isn't mentioned for specific reasons. That adds to the mystery. Hints began in the first chapter, but this one should really tell you who she is. If not, you'll find out soon enough.

Chapter Two: Oddities

Emmy thundered down the stairs in a huff. How could she? Sentenced to a lifetime of labor! Well, she was just going to have to run away.

But to where?

Emmy was an orphan, and if she had family, she would be with them now. So now she was stuck in the little storage space under the stairwell. With the spiders and the dust bunnies. Happy, happy, day. She opened the tiny door and stepped inside. For once, she was grateful for her height. Emmy was a short, pale blonde girl. She had a pale, narrow face and a strange eye color. They were silver, with flecks of blue. Her eyes almost looked like mercury mixed with sky. Emmy had big eyes, that always appeared surprised.

Emmy hated her appearance. She wasn't normal looking, with her amazing blonde hair and strange, wide eyes. She wanted to be normal. But being normal would pose a problem.

Looking down on the floor, she wondered where she would sleep. It was cramped quarters, close in and stuffy. The ceiling was chipping, probably from years and years of orphans running down the stairs. Or Mrs. Bush. That fat lady could chip any ceiling. Emmy wouldn't dare ask Mrs. Bush to give her a cot, and it was unlikely one would fit. So she laid her blanket down on the hardwood floor. She could barely see the wood under the dust. It wouldn't be comfortable, but it would do. She placed her small bag on the floor and looked through it one more time.

Apart from her shabby clothing, the items in the bag were curious. There was a robe-like thing that she often used as a coat. It seemed as it was once splendid, but those days were obviously over. It was of nice quality with silver and green lining. It kept her warm as if by magic. The garment was often a subject of ridicule, not that any of the other orphans had anything better.

Besides this robe, there was a ring. It was, again, silver. It was adorned with emeralds and, after many years of gaping at it in awe, saw there was a small serpentine figure next to the emerald. Also, she found one single earing with a red vegetable looking thing on it. Maybe it was a radish, she'd have to ask Cookie.

Emmy had had these things ever since she was a little girl. When her parents left her here she had this and only this. She didn't remember her parents, but she sure hoped that they'd come back and saved her from this awful place.

Emmy was intrigued by this ring, but she had little time to wonder because she was being called by Cookie.

"Amm-ee!" she yelled, saying the name strangely.

Emmy ran into the kitchen. She presented herself to Cookie,

"Erm, hullo, I'm Emmy. Just Emmy. Mrs. Bush told me I would be...um...helping you."

"Ah, yes. Lemme guess: Da Bushy gal caught ya doin' someting 'gainst da rules an' she dold 'er motter. I git it all da time."

It took Emmy a while to figure what Cookie had said, and then she answered yes. Cookie's way of speaking was very odd. Emmy felt like it was a different language. She was very preoccupied and didn't really feel like solving any word puzzles.

Cookie gestured to the lettuce on the counter and Emmy took it as a signal to chop it. She picked up the knife and began to chop. It was boring and slow work. After ten minutes, she was wishing she wasn't here in the kitchen. And why were they having lettuce for breakfast?

She urged herself to go faster. Cookie was going fast. She could too. She took her hand off the knife and lifted it to wipe her forehead. She was utterly surprised when the knife continued to move.

Cookie stared at her, shocked.

"Err, yeah," Emmy said, "I'll just be getting back to that."

The lettuce had all been cut by the knife with a mind of it's own, so she helped Cookie with the porridge, vowing never to eat this porridge with lettuce in it.

"C'mere gal, eat this," said Cookie, handing Emmy a piece of toast. Emmy began to nibble on it. It was as hard as a rock!

"Dat was a fine trick ya pulled, gal. Mind teachin' me it, eh?" Cookie elbowed her.

"Sure thing," she hesitated to answer. How would she show her?

A/N Again: These beginning chapters are short and slightly boring. They get progressively longer.

TWIGGIE