My Mountain of Broken Toys (Rose And Rosie)

Part 2

Rosie sat quietly in her seat, trying to keep her attention of the teacher. She tried not to fidget from all her bruises.

She didn't like nursery very much. All the other kids had friends and played with each other. She wanted to say 'hi', but she was too scared.

They were supposed to be coloring what they had done over the summer. All the other kids were eagerly into their task. She didn't know what to draw, she'd spent her summer locked in her room.

Her grip tightened on the blue crayon. Blue was a happy color. Blue meant the outside. Blue meant warmth.

She jabbed the blue crayon onto her paper in anger. It broke.

Fear shot down her spine. Would she get in trouble? Would the teacher hit her? Would the teacher tell her parents? That last thought made her cry. She didn't want anyone telling her parents that she was bad.

She jumped as she felt a hand clasp onto her shoulder.

"Hi!" Rosie looked up to see a little boy smiling at her. "Why are you crying? Don't be sad!"

"I-I..." she sniffled, trying not to cry. "I b-broke the blue crayon..." She held the pieces in her tiny hands.

Rosie froze waiting for him to tell the teacher and get her in trouble.

"Miss Scott!" The boy called out. The woman made her way over to them, smiling.

Rosie inwardly cringed, waiting to get in trouble, and trying to push down her anger at the boy.

"Do you need anything Christopher?" Miss Scott asked.

"Rosie and I were coloring," he said and Rosie waited for him to tattle, "And I accidentally broke the blue crayon. Can we have another?"

The teacher smiled. "Of course." She walked over to the big table and got them one. "Have fun."

Rosie sat there, not knowing what to think. He knew her name; he knew who she was. Those were the first thoughts that entered her mind. Then it finally sunk in, what he'd done. He'd taken the blame for her. He hadn't gotten her in trouble.

Christopher curiously looked at the girl before him. She looked more like two than four, but he wasn't one to make fun of her. He knew what it felt like to be different. He didn't really know what had made him go to her. Maybe it was that she looked so alone sitting there, so fearful. He'd seen her the past week; she hadn't spoken to anyone. He had begun to feel something completely different as the days went on. He wanted to protect her.

"Hi." Chris smiled at her.

Rosie smiled back.

Rosie slowly closed the door, hoping not to disturb her mother, who was lying drunk in front of the T.V.

She tried to sneak quietly up to her room. "Kid!" She froze, hearing her mommy's voice. "Is that you?!" It didn't sound so bad. Maybe today was a good day. Her hope faded as her mummy came into the room. Rosie kept herself from crying out as the hand slapped her face. "When I talk to you I want answer you bitch!"

Rosie stood there whimpering, trying her best to be invisible. She received another slap.

"Answer me!" Slap!

She stared at the floor. "Sorry mummy."

Slap!

"Don't you talk to me you bastard!"

Kick!

Her mother walked away, leaving Rosie gasping for breath on the floor. The little girl slowly brought herself to her feet and crawled away to the confines of her room.