Part 1: A New Life Will Begin

"Then the Witch's anger was a little appeased, and she said: 'If it's as you say, you may take as much rampion away with you as you like, but on one condition only-that you give me the child your wife will shortly bring into the world. All shall go well with it, and I will look after it like a mother.'"

-Rapunzel, Brothers Grimm

Chapter 1: Miss Sayers and the Unnoticed Blemish

I know what you're thinking: the 11th Street Orphanage looked like a pleasant place to be, with its big windows and beautiful façade. I know you think that, in reality, it was a terrible, awful sort of place, where the children were punished severely and malnourished; where there was work to be done from dawn until dusk; where the children hated each other, and grew up to become sour and hostile.

That's what society generally thinks of when they hear the word "orphanage". But I'm here to tell you this: the 11th Street Orphanage wasn't any of those things.

Granted, it wasn't the nicest place; it had no internal air system, so it was sweltering in the summer and frigid in the winter. The roof leaked in place when it rained, and there was a family of mice living in the fifth floor music room.

Despite these drawbacks, Miss Beatrice Sayers, the young owner, was determined to make the orphanage a nice, comfortable place for children to live. Coming from a wealthy family, she used her part of her grandfather's will to spruce up the old building's interior. She made sure the teachers who worked there were kind, but fair; she supervised the kitchen and their meal plans, so as not to have the children starve.

But, most importantly, Miss Sayers gave the children there attention. She listened to their problems, and hired some counselors to help the more troubled children. She took careful steps during adoptions, checking and double-checking that the child or children in question were going to suitable homes. She smiled at them when they passed in the hallway, and always gave them a lollipop after each visit to her office.

And so, the 11th Street Orphanage did become the pleasant place, both inside and out.

Fall was a very special time of year. The trees shed their gorgeously-colored leaves, the air turned crisp, and outside smelled like apples and pumpkins.

It also meant that school was starting up again, and this was when the bullies usually appeared.

While the orphanage was a nice place most of the time, there were a few children who were bitter, for a number of reasons. While most went to a counselor to talk, a few had formed a gang, and bullied the younger children, taking out their frustration and pain on others.

This particular day, a little girl by the name of Clarice Manning was the latest target. She had beautiful golden hair, and her older sister always braided it into two long, shiny plaits. They were too tempting for the gang of bullies, and during Recreation Time, Clarice found herself being harassed.

"What's the matter, crybaby?" jeered the leader, a girl of twelve called Olivia. "Don't have the guts to call for sister?"

The other five – four boys and one girl, all around Olivia's age – sniggered as their leader tugged at one of Clarice's braids.

"Ow!" she cried. "Stop, Olivia! It hurts!"

"Do you want your mummy?" sang Olivia, pulling the other braid violently. "Do you want your mum?"

"Go away!" Clarice eyes were wet with tears and were becoming blotchy.

"Make me!" Olivia grabbed both braids and pulled, yanking Clarice's head back and omitting from her a sharp cry of pain.

"Hey! Knock it off!"

The gang turned to see a little five-year-old girl standing behind them. Her hazel eyes were flashing with anger that seemed uncharacteristic for a girl her size. She stood strong, looking up into the faces of the older children.

"What do you need, Tamisin?" Olivia asked, glaring down her pudgy nose.

"Stop picking on Clarice. What's she ever done to you?"

"Why don't you mind your own business?" said one of the boys.

"That sounds like a good idea," said another, one with terribly huge front teeth. "I think it's your naptime, Hammy Tammy."

The group bleated with laughter. Tamisin tried to fight the color rising in her face. She hated the nickname they'd given her; it wasn't her fault that every time there was cooked ham for dinner, she'd shovel it in her mouth. She liked the taste. The bullies had told her that if she continued to do that, she'd eventually turn into a big, fat pig, and be made into cooked ham for the other orphans to eat. Tamisin knew it wouldn't happen, but Hammy Tammy wasn't a name she was proud of.

"She's turning pink!" Olivia chortled. "She's already changing into a pig!"

The group proceeded to make oinking noises, falling on the ground in laughter.

"I am not!" Her hands balled into fists. "Stop it!"

"Oink, oink!" They were on the ground, circling her, acting like pigs.

"I said STOP IT!" She kicked the nearest bully, and he fell on his backside. The others stopped. They looked at their friend, then to Tamisin. No one said a word.

Tamisin was surprised herself. She usually tried to stand up to the bullies, but she never actually fought them. Truthfully, she didn't know whether to be proud or scared: she was happy they'd stopped and happy she'd finally done something, but the will to actually kick someone frightened her.

Just then, the bell signaling the end of Recreation Time rang. The bullies dusted themselves off, glaring at Tamisin.

"You'll pay, runt," sneered Olivia as they walked away. The other girl bully tugged one of Clarice's braids before running off.

"Are you okay, Tamisin?" Clarice asked in a small voice.

Tamisin shrugged. "I don't know…I should be asking you."

Clarice rubbed her head. "It'll go away, eventually. It always does."

"I guess."

"Thank you," Clarice whispered. "That's the fourth time they've done that this week. I was starting to grow sick of it."

"Why not tell Martha? Or Miss Sayers?"

Clarice sighed. "You know why I can't tell Miss Sayers…it would mean certain death if those bullies were caught. They'd never leave me alone! As for Martha, she's got enough to worry about. She's afraid that she's the reason we're still here. She feels like if she wasn't around, I'd be adopted a lot faster. I keep telling her it's not true, but she told me that everyone thinks we're a…'pack-age deal'."

"That's not true," Tamisin said. She didn't know if it was or not, but Martha was a kind and generous thirteen-year-old; why wouldn't anyone adopt her?

"Anyway, I'm glad you were here," Clarice said, changing the subject. "I was afraid they wouldn't stop this time."

"You're welcome," Tamisin said. "If they give you more trouble, come get me. I'll be more than happy to take care of that cow Olivia."

Clarice nodded, and the two went back inside.