Miri hurried along the street, looking into shop windows. She was a slight girl, with hair just past her shoulders that was so brown it was nearly black. Though small, she did not look skinny, or sickly, she looked like she was in good shape, and it was only her short stature that kept her from being stronger. Her eyes were the strangest thing about her appearance. Miri possessed a pair of mismatched eyes. Her left eye was emerald green, and her other eye was brown. In the right lighting, both looked as if they had gold flecks in them. She used them as she consulted a the list that was in her hand. "Bread", she muttered under her breath. She stopped at the grocery store, and picked up several loaves of cheap white bread and peanut butter, smiling at the old cashier before leaving. She sighed inwardly as she turned the corner and headed for home. "I wish we could have something other than peanut butter sandwiches for once." Soon, Miri came to a gate, and she slowed her pace as she dragged her feet up the driveway.
"MIRI RIDER!" A loud voice shrieked from the direction of the house. looking up from her feet, Miri saw a skinny, severe looking old lady squinting at her.
Taking a deep breath, Miri held up the bags containing the groceries. "I brought the groceries Mrs Bittle!" She turned on her brightest smile in a futile attempt to soften the old woman."ABOUT TIME!!!" The old woman yelled. " WITH HOW LONG YOU TOOK, YOU MIGHT HAVE GONE TO GREENVILLE!" Greenville was the next town over, and Agnes Bittle enjoyed using it to scold her young charges when they were late.
Miri put away the bread and peanut butter, and handed Mrs Bittle the remainder of the bags, which were for her alone. "As if I would eat the garbage that you eat!" Mrs Bittle often said when asked by the hungry children why she made her own food.
Peanut butter and bread was cheap, therefore it was the go-to staple for the children under her care. Miri went out the back door, and headed toward the barn, where the children played and slept.
"MIRI IS BACK!!" A childish voice shouted from the window of the barn. Looking up, Miri's sharp eyes spotted a pair of blue eyes under a head of blonde hair, gathered into two pigtails. She smiled as the head dissapeared and she imagined the little feet stomping down the stairs to meet her. She entered the barn, and gave Amy, for that was the little girls name, a hug. Soon, several more children appeared, some younger than Miri, but most older, nearly ready to leave and go off on their own. most ignored her, but Miri was used to that. Amy was her only real friend at this place.
She played with Amy for an hour or two, then tucked amy into her bed, which was little more than a mattress with a blanket on top. She sang a quiet lullaby until the girls eyes began to flutter closed. the other girls lay quietly in their beds. In the beginning, they would interrupt the singing with derisive comments, but as time went on, they found it peaceful, and enjoyed the nightly song, not that they would ever admit it.
The next morning dawned bright and clear. it was a bit chilly, as it was the middle of spring. Miri watched her breath cloud in front of her as she got dressed. She had spent a cold night, having given one of her two blankets to Amy, insisting to the girl that she was simply too hot to keep it on. Amy put up only token resistance, being cold and soon was snuggled under three blankets.
The ringing of a bell brought all the children up and running to the back door, where Agnes Bittle was passing out peanut butter on bread. When all the children had theirs, she made an announcement.
"Today, several families are coming to visit, they are thinking of adoption. " Miri's heart leapt, despite her best efforts to squash her feelings. "Stop it!" She scolded herself "No one is going to want a seventeen old with weird eyes."
Mrs Bittle, exited at the prospect of not only getting rid of some of her burdens, but also the money she would gain from the exchange.
The children took showers in the house, a rare occurrence, and Agnes had set out nice clothing, which was usually saved for inspections or visits from important people who wanted to impress the media by visiting orphanages and maybe donating some money.
after the children were deemed presentable, they were lined up in the living room, straightening out clothing and nervously shifting from foot to foot, to await their potential adopters. With pounding hearts, they kept stealing glances at the entrance.