My Bunny

1

"What are you doing?!" The head mistress sounded horrified. At first I didn't understand, until I looked at my paper again. I had written the same sentence twice, not paying attention. The head mistress, Miss Martin was her name, was a very strict woman. She had to be strict to make it here, in a school of homeless girls. If she didn't show her authority, they would shrug her off like a fly.

"I'm sorry Miss Martin. My mind must be somewhere else." I said quietly as I erased my mistake. She was one of the few people I would speak to.

"Well put your mind on your work girl!" She huffed. She didn't teach all the classes. Just writing and sometimes the reading class. The school was very large, most homeless girls are brought here from all across the country. There weren't many other options for those unwanted baby girls.

"Yes ma'am," I nearly whispered as I continued writing. Writing class would be over soon and I would be sent to arithmetic. My least favorite class. Mr. Hart taught that class. I didn't mind him. I'd tried skipping it before, but was caught of course. Mr. Hart would never let me out of his sight. He had plans to marry me when I came of age. I suspected just so he could keep me near and protect me. I had other plans.

If I would want to marry, I would want to find love.

..

I started down the hall towards my next class and thought about ducking out the door and hiding someplace. I could leave and never return to this place. Then I would never see any of these people again. I would miss Mr. Hart though.

I was pulled from my daydream as a girl slammed my books out of my hands. Normally, I would've just picked one up and hit her, but she knew I was on my last strike before kitchen duty. So I simply started gathering my books as a man stood above me, towering over me. Where did he come from?

I looked up at him. He was an older man, maybe thirty or more. He wore rather expensive looking attire. He simply looked down his nose at me. As though saying he was too good to even stand near me. Then he did something that shocked me, he smiled and handed me one of my books. As I reached out to take the book from him, he grabbed my hand and brought it to his lips. I immediately realized who this man was.

The orphanage had a backup plan. If a girl of age had no place to go, there would be available men invited to meet some of the girls. To choose a wife. That sort of thing was usually frowned upon, but here, it was kept quiet because the orphanage did so much for the girls. Not necessarily so much good.

It would be just my luck to stumble upon one of the men and even catch his attention. I had no plans to marry any of these men... but no one ever gave me the choice.

"Well, hello miss." The man smiled. His dark hair was already beginning to gray around the edges. I nodded to him with a tiny polite smile and tried to get passed him. "It would be awfully rude to just leave that way."

"Young lady!" The head mistress said, I could tell she was trying to get me out of this situation. "Don't be rude to this man! Go off to class right now and try to learn some manners."

"Oh no," the man said. "I haven't even introduced myself, you can't let this beautiful girl leave without at least a proper introduction."

"Well sir, she must get to her class," Miss Martin said. He ignored her and held his hand out to me.

"I'm Garret. Garret Smindle." He smiled. I lightly nodded as I smiled and shook his hand. It was silent for a moment.

"Well," Miss Martin said. "Off to class."

"You haven't told me your name," he said stepping closer to me as I tried to step away. The halls had thinned by this point and Mr. Hart would not be happy with my late arrival.

"Mr. Smi-" Ms. Martin tried.

"I want her. You told me I could meet and pick one. Her." He interrupted, still looking at me.

"She has to consent, and she isn't even of age." Miss Martin said sternly. He smiled at her while giving a challenging look.

"Did you say earlier, that your orphanage could use some donations?" He said a little quieter. "Maybe a generous one hundred dollar donation."

Miss Martin's jaw dropped. I knew I had been lost. This man was about to buy me. This was the end of my road. I could feel myself losing hope. I could hear mumbles of their talking, but couldn't force myself to listen. I was bought and soon to be shipped off to some man's house to be forced to do, who knows what. I was completely stunned. I left their conversation and silently dragged myself to class, raising my dress skirts so I wouldn't trip.

"Young lady, why are you so late?" Mr. Hart immediately questioned, knowing he wouldn't have an anwser. I simply shrugged and sat down. He looked at me for a moment before turning back to the blackboard.

I sat through most of the class just staring off into nothing, imagining the life I would be trapped in soon, with some man I had only just met. Class ended and Mr. Hart asked me to stay.

"You're even less sociable today, if that's possible," he smiled. I knew he was joking. He was actually a sweet man.

I had known him for almost four years. He was always trying to make me laugh, or bringing me secret gifts. Sometimes some sort of candy or a new pencil, once he even bought me a beautiful comb.

It was purple with stones decorating the sides. Even though I had never spoken to him, he made an effort to know me. To befriend me. He handed me the chalk. He always let me draw on his board since I wouldn't speak. It wasn't as a who was favored or unfavored. I preferred him over Miss Martin anyway. I just didn't like to speak. I actually hated it. I was afraid of people's reactions.

I took the chalk and moved to the board. Drawing took longer than speaking, but it felt better. I enjoyed it. I used the chalk and first drew eyes, filling with tears. Beside them, in the direction they looked, I drew the shape of a man and then a ring. Followed by a house, covered in chains.

I didn't know if he'd understand. I didn't care. I just needed it out. It had taken about twenty minutes, so they'd be searching for me at headcount by now. I put the chalk down and left without even glancing at him.