The Unforeseen Spark

The Struggle to Survive

      After a chaotic game of hide-and-seek, Roetta found herself relaxing in the kitchen while the rest of the children slept in the other room. The game had tuckered both sides out and it didn't take long for things to quiet down.
     "Oh good, you're alone. There is important business I need to share with you."
      Roetta didn't even need to glance up to know that the one who had spoken was Ms. Diaton. The older lady was the only one besides herself who was still awake. Leaning back in the creaky wooden chair she was sitting in, she observed the older woman's face. Her eyebrows were drawn together and there was obviously something bothering her greatly.
     Ms. Diaton grabber the chair that was positioned across from Roetta at the table. After letting out a deep sigh, she got right to the problem.
      "The funding isn't enough to last us for the year."
      At those words, Roetta felt her blood freeze. Without their funding, they would be kicked from their property. They would have no food, no medicine, no shelter, and most of them wouldn't be able to last long under those conditions.
      "We have not ever had funding run out so quickly - it's just the beginning of the year! What changed?"
      Pinching the bridge of her wrinkled nose, sliding up her round spectacles in the process, Ms. Diaton let out another sigh, "the king has been drawing more money from his subjects and even though the anonymous person who funds us is very successful, they've had a difficult time supporting themselves as of late."
      It was Roetta's turn to pinch the bridge of her own nose. If the problem wasn't solved quickly, trouble would soon follow. Funding was now no longer an option, so she would have to find a way to earn the money herself again.
     Before they received funding, Roetta used to go out doing small, odd jobs to scrape together all the money she could. That was a while ago, though, and she hadn't done that since she was around 10 years old. After they had gotten funding, she quit lots of her odd jobs and helped Ms. Diaton deal with the growing number of kids back at the orphanage.
     "I could go back to working at the marketplace as well as accept the jobs I find along the way if you need me to?"
       With this sentence, reluctant relief was shown on Ms. Diaton's face. Their financial problems were on the way to being solved, but Roetta would have to go back to constantly working herself to exhaustion just to do it. Ms. Diaton was too old to take up any other jobs and someone needed to watch over the children, so Roetta was the only option for breadwinner.
        "I'll start tomorrow," standing up slowly, she slid her chair in and stretched. Letting out a yawn, she was about to walk out of the room to join the kids, but was stopped by the old woman's voice.
      "Thank you Roetta, for your help around here. We wouldn't of lasted this long if it wasn't for you, dear."
        Looking back over her shoulder, Roetta could see the sorrowful smile sent her way. Turning back around, the corners of her mouth quirked into a small smile to be returned to the old woman. This couldn't be seen though, in the growing darkness of the kitchen.
       "It's no problem, I live here as well after all. I'm just like all the other kids here who were saved from a lonely, short life by themselves. I'd do anything to return the favor for you saving me, all you would have to do is ask."
      Roetta continued her walk through the open doorway and closed the door behind her. Moving further into the room, she used the bits of moonlight that were currently flooding through the windows to help guide her to her pallet. After meandering through the sleeping kids (and resisting the urge to snicker at Rosemarie's snoring and sleep-cursing), she finally reached it, tucked away towards the back wall.
       Skipping the changing of her clothes because of her ever prominent exhaustion, she quickly slipped under her makeshift blankets and closed her eyes. She was disrupted from her attempt at sleep, though, by a small hand grasping onto her pointer finger.
       Slowly opening her heavy eyes, she wasn't surprised to find Benett as the culprit. He often would drag his pallet over by hers before going to sleep.
        Noticing the boy's shaking though, she quickly sprang up and looked him over for any signs of sickness. Unfortunately, even since the very beginning when he was dropped off and left at the orphanage, he easily contracted all kinds of illnesses and was familiar with the cold face of death.
       Roetta went through her normal procedures, checking the boy's forehead for his temperature and his skin for any unattended cuts that could of gotten infected. After finding that he was relatively okay, she allowed herself to breathe properly. He wasn't sick, just cold.
      Wasting no time, she took off her blankets, adding them to his shivering form. After covering him completely with the blankets in slow, careful movements as to not wake him up, she elevated his broken leg with one of her decent pillows and withdrew from the tiny boy. His shivers soon stopped, and with that, she could finally go back to peaceful sleep.