THIRTY-SIX
A typical Tuesday morning goes like this:
She wakes up at half past seven to the sound of the orphanage's incredibly-loud church bells (she pities whoever has to wake up early and brave the cold to ring them). Her three roommates wake up, some more easily than others (looking at you, Hazuki), and use the bathroom before her. She doesn't like being rushed, and it gives her a chance to warm up her clothes beneath her covers. Eventually she joins the exodus of other kids moving towards the grand hall (some of them look and sound like zombies, especially the older ones).
Oatmeal is her go-to meal, and she puts two tablespoons of peanut butter on it and lots of blueberries; sometimes raspberries, if she feels like changing things just a tiny bit. Every couple of weeks, though, she goes for Cheerios (it tastes kind of funny with strawberries, but apparently that's the recommended serving suggestion, so she's testing it out… with no conclusive results). Kids chatter all around her, and the matron and staff are at their own table off to the side, also chatting.
After she's done eating she brushes her teeth, and after that she goes to class (sometimes she's late to class because she gets distracted looking at her teeth and tongue and gums).
It's nothing like the scattered homeschooling her Papa gave her and Carol, but it's… nice, in its own way. She likes the structure, and the homework fills up at least some of her time. She usually doesn't volunteer for anything, except sometimes she does, but only to feed Peter, the class rabbit. Lessons are pretty easy (when she remembers what they're about, anyway).
They have lunch at noon. Hers depends on her mood and her meticulous deliberations and whether or not she thinks she's having a good or bad day, but she does try to have plenty of vegetables (sometimes she likes to take apart salads and eat its components by group), and some fruits, sometimes.
Back in class, she has French (because they only offer that and Italian, which is too hard on her mouth), and she would enjoy it more if the kids around her would stop messing around and if she weren't so anxious about talking. But, anyway, just as she starts to get too antsy, the bell rings and they have an hour of supervised play before they're let out for the rest of the day.
What does she do with the rest of her day? Well, usually she takes her latest book to read under her favorite tree, or she works in the garden with Mr. Ren (or without Mr. Ren, when he's too sick or too tired), or she goes back in to her (shared) room to get homework out of the way.
More or less, that's how her days usually go.
Except this morning, right after her breakfast of oatmeal, the matron calls her over to the staff table.
"Good mornin', Elfnein! I know you've got class, but would you mind meeting me in my office in a few minutes? It'll be quick, I swear," the matron asks her.
Wondering why she's being summoned to the office this time, she nods her head hesitantly. The matron thanks and dismisses her.
A few minutes later, she finds herself waiting for the matron in the main office. The friendly secretary—the stern one is nowhere around—told her to wait inside, so there she is, sitting across the matron's huge desk and trying not to fidget.
There's a coffee shop napkin with some stuff messily scrawled on it, some official-looking papers that she can't read yet, a bright orange program for a play, and a bus ticket that says 'Route 36.'
A bus ticket….
She wonders what the outside world is like.
a/n: I suck at keeping promises, lol.
Thank you to XD for wishing me a happy late birthday and for reviewing! I totally understand real life getting in the way of reading :P
Please review!