- Slowtown Imagine -
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She held her breath, pressing her lips into a thin line. She couldn't tell if she had been seen yet, but she could only hope she was still hidden behind the cracked door. The line of golden light that shined in from the hallway through the crack landed on her left greenish blueish brown eye, making it shine mischieviously. The floorboards were cold against her knees, even through the think pink nightgown the Sisters forced her to wear.
Saint Francis' Home for Girls. She'd only been here for three months, and she was already breaking the rules. What would her father have said? He wouldn't have cared that the nuns had taken her books, he would have told her that she'd get it back soon. But he wasn't here, and she needed her books back tonight.
"She doesn't pay attention to her lessons anymore, Sister."
"Well of course She doesn't. She never did," a group of three nuns converstated in the hall, forcing her to stay tucked behind the door while the other girls snored softly.
"Maybe it'll get better after she's been here longer. Give her a few more months," one of them reasoned. "Besides, we are required to keep her here until she's eighteen. We have nine more years with her, so get used to it."
Another sighed. "I just don't have a good feeling about this one. We can't save everyone, Sister."
"But we can try." They were all quiet for a moment. "Come, we must retire to our rooms, ladies." The floor creaked, and three sets of footsteps receeded down the corridor, followed by the opening and closing of three doors, and then silence.
She let go of the breath she was holding, and carefully rose to her bare feet. She glanced back at the other girls, nestled in their beds, all sound asleep, before pulling the door open a bit more, making the crack just wide enough for her body to fit through. She closed the door behind herself once she was in the hall, and then she ran. On her toes, she was able to make less noise, but she knew she was still being foolish. It didn't matter though, she'd be quick.
Her little legs carried her around a corner, down another hallway, through all the twists and turns that separated the offices from the bed chambers. And then finally she saw it, the golden name plate drilled onto the door that read Duffy, Ryan. That was her room. Father Duffy was the priest that ran both the home for girls and the boys home next door. The two buildings were separated by a long, tall metal gate that only the priest and a few nuns had the keys too. She had never been there, let alone seen a boy since she had been put here. But she wasn't here to try and meet a boy, she was here for her books.
Father Duffy didn't spend his nights at the homes like the nuns did, he had a home of his own, so his office was empty and unlocked. Quickly and quietly, she turned the handle and shoved herself inside the room, once again closing the door and using it as a boundary between her and the Sisters in case they came running. Inside, there was a standard sized desk, two guest chairs, and one leather chair she assumed was Father's. There were two filing cabinets, a few boxes of paperwork, books, crosses, and a small trash bin. Not much, but still fancier than her "room." She had only a tiny bed with threadbare sheets, a dull lamp, a stuffed lamb, and a small pile of books. In only three months she had read them all.
She quickly shook her head. Focus. Her eyes ran over the spines of Father's books, finding none of them to be hers. She then knelt behind the desk and began pulling out the doors, scanning her eyes through them. Pens, pencils, staplers, scissors, envelopes and more papers and files. Duffy really needed to get the place organized. But where would a guy like him throw a kids books? She doubted he would have taken much care of it, so where could it be? She rose to her feet, sticking up her nose to see on top of the filing cabinets. She was tall for a nine year old girl, but not that tall.
