Delilah stared at the tall wooden post before her, a small expression of confusion and stubborness on her round face as she stood rubbing her bottom where the Matron's paddle had left a sore red mark. Her lower lip pouted slightly and her blue eyes were red from crying. She'd been instructed to sweep the hall before the students came out for morning classes...but...how the clock did one actually sweep up? Where did you sweep it to? Why did she have to do it? Why couldn't she just go home and say she was sorry for being a bad girl?

Her lip quivered for a moment and the child looked around for someone, anyone to help, before reaching out for the towering broom. Taking it in two hands close to the bottom, she awkwardly began to pull it across the ground. It wasn't working, the dirt was just being pulled around the floor in a mockery of her upbringing.

Frustrated, grunting in a small voice, she pushed and pulled, frowning angrily. When did she get breakfast?! Delilah had been at Brunnhold for two days already, and it was the worst two days of her life. Everyone was so mean and horrible and they made her do awful things like cleaning! Maybe, if she could find Chastity, her sister would tell the mean Matron that it was all a mistake, and take her home to mummy and daddy! Holding onto that hope, the youngster continued her pointless and ineffective 'sweeping'.

Moira walked down the hallway, her footsteps echoing in from the ceiling. She was carrying a mop, and leaving a trail of water where it dripped, and trying to not spill the large bucket of water she held. She had tripped and spilled water the other day, it wasn’t fun to clean up.

She dropped the mop and tripped over it, but regained her footing and managed to only spill a little of the water. Moira looked around to make sure no one had seen, and then grabbed the mop by its strings and wiped up the puddle. She sighed with relief and started walking again, bucket and mop in tow.

She didn’t like mopping, she didn’t like being here, and she didn’t like being yelled at. She almost understood why she wasn’t home, but why hadn’t her parents kept her? This place was awful, surely they had to know that! Didn’t they love her? Didn’t they miss her? She missed them, that’s for sure.

The girl frowned as she thought, walking and lugging her bucket. She stopped when she saw a tiny girl struggling with a broom. It was easy to tell that she was sweeping wrong, even though Moira wasn’t good at it yet either. She had watched people sweep, and so she knew how to hold it and what sweeping did, at least. Mopping, however, she wasn’t so sure about yet.

She set down her bucket and leaned her mop against the wall, crouching on her heels to relieve her legs. She had been standing entirely too much, lately. The girl tugged on one of her curls, and then cleared her throat.

"Hello, um... Would you mind hurrying? I have to mop in here." She said to Delilah, as politely as she could.

Deliliah jumped, turning around with wide eyes to look at Moira, swinging the broom around with a clatter against the far wall. Looking from the other passive's pretty curls to the mop bucket, the child pouted slightly. How come she was moping and still had her hair pretty? That wasn't fair.

"Well, I have to sweep." As if to emphasize her point, Delilah picked up the broom again, around halfway down this time, scraping the bristles pathetically along the floor. She didn't want to sweep, it was stupid and hard...but...the other girl got to keep her pretty curls and defiantly, Delilah decided that she didn't want to let the girl mop.

"This is my floor, you go somewhere else." She said in a challenging tone, raising her eyebrows and watching where the dirt went, as if it were terribly more important.

Moira flinched as the broom hit the wall, and then gave an apologetic look to the other girl. She hadn’t meant to scare her like that; of course, she hadn’t meant to be here mopping either.



Moira furrowed her brows in confusion. It was obvious that Delilah had to sweep, being as she was sweeping. She opened her mouth to speak, but the other girl beat her to it.



Moira sat and fumed. How dare this tiny girl speak to her in such a way! None of the floors were hers and she knew it! She was not in charge of her, no one was in charge of Moira Catriosa Montrose, no one!

She watched the girl swish around the dirt, and noticed that she wasn’t even looking at her. It seemed like this dirt was more important than Moira, and Moira didn’t like that.

"ill show her to talk like that to me!" The girl swore as she stood.

"Find my own floor?"

She reached out and gripped her mop, dipping it into the water and slapping onto the floor. "See how she likes this!" She pushed the soaked mop right up under Delilah’s broom, mixing the water up with the dirt and creating a huge muddy mess.

"Found one."

Delilah gasped as the wet mop splashed down in her pile of dirt, wetting the bristles of her broom as it soaked into the mess.

"Heeeeyyyy!!!!" She said in a loud voice, eyebrows drawing together and frown on her features. Shoving back against Moira's mop, she didn't care about the messy mud streak she'd just created.

"I had this spot first! It's mine!" To emphasize, she shoved the broom again.

Had she just shoved her mop?! Ooooh no. That was not going to fly. Moira glared and shoved the broom out of the way, and pretended to mop.

"Well. Its mine now. Go find your own job, child." Had she just called Delilah a child? Oh yes she had.

She smiled meanly and moved the broom further out of the way, making even more of a mess. Moira would be clocking crazy to let this girl think she could get away with thinking she was better than her, because she wasn’t. So Moira decided she was going to try to prove that she was better. She stuck out her chin and continued scrubbing the mud into the floor.

"Why don’t you go find something a little more fitting for your age and leave this to me, only mature people can handle floor cleaning."

Delilah had giggled a little when Moira had shoved back, but the insinuation that the other red head was more mature than her? That wasn't very nice! Delilah was just as growed up as..as..

"I'm Delilah Pembridge and I am ten years and two days old! I am too mature! Your just a meanie! Meanie, meanie, scrapalini!" She said in a huff, bottom lip pouting and scrubbing the broom across the muddied spot on the floor. With another shove, she shifted Moira's mop and pushed the broom in a long arc around the girl, dragging a muddy trail along behind her.

"Look! Your making it messier!" The girl accused loudly, pointing at the dirty streak.

Ten years and two days? That was nothing! Try seven days! Moira had been about to laugh, and her face twisted into a mean looking smile, before the word "scrapalini" hit her right between the eyes.

That meant scrap, didn’t it? The girl clenched her jaw as her throat burned; the air no longer able to reach her lungs easily. Scrap; that's what she was, a puny little scrap. Her eyes watered, and she was about to cry again. How long had she cried? How long had she been here, here in this awful place? She wanted to cry. The tears all just wanted out, she wanted to scream and rant and kick things around, but she wasn’t about to let this mean little name calling brat, see her cry! Especially not after she pushed her mop, again, and blamed her for the mess!

She gritted her teeth and ordered the tears not to fall. They would listen, or else. The girl glared and took a step forward, shoving a finger into Delilah's collar bone.

" I didn’t do that," she said in a low voice. "you did. My name is Moira Catriona Montrose, much better than yours, don’t you think?" She gave another mean smile and dragged her muddy mop over the other girl’s shoes.

"I am five days older than you; you are the 'scrapalini' !" she gave a little poke with that finger for emphasis.

"OWWWWW!!!!!" Delilah wailed, putting a hand on her collarbone. She looked at the other girl with wide blue eyes, pouting. That was too mean! You didn't hurt other people! Not like that!

"Moira?!? What kind of a name is Moira? You sound like a wick! Wicky wick wick! Your a scrapalini and a wick. Scrappy scrappy wick wick!" The little red head pouted more as she spoke, making a sing song out of the words. This whole place was stupid and silly and horrible. Tears were threatening now, as much as Delilah wanted to win this battle of wills, she was getting upset by the mean Moira Catorina Montrose. As the mop was dragged across her shoes, the youngster gasped, stopping her sing song.

"Hey! They are my only shoes!" She whined, looking up at the girl with furrowed eyebrows, bottom lip quivering, before she finally dissolved into tears, a high pitched whine coming from her. Throwing down the broom, she put both fists to her eyes, crying as only little girls could.

A wick?! She, Moira Catriona Montrose, was not a wick. Nor was she a scrap, if anything this Delilah person was the wick and the scrap! Just look at how she spoke and how loud she was! Moira failed to notice how loud she herself was, and would deny that fact until circles were no longer round.

She glared at the girl, happy that the finger poking had hurt, even if the girl was making too big a deal out of it. Delilah deserved it all for making a mess and calling her a scrappy wick. It wasn’t nice, it was mean! And Moira would be mean right back at this bratty little scra--



Moira stopped mid sentence. Her eyes dropped to the other girl’s shoes, wondering just how ruined they now were. What did Delilah mean, these were her only shoes? She had probably three walk in closets full of only shoes. What was she complaining about for one getting ruined? Her gaze fell to her own shoes, and then it clicked that these were her only shoes. She only had one pair now, all her closets were gone. She looked back at the other girl’s shoes, realizing that those were her only shoes as well. This girl was a scrap, and so was she. They were both scraps with only one pair of shoes!

When Delilah threw down her broom, the tears welled up in Moira’s eyes, and when Delilah started crying so badly Moira stuck out her lip and looked up at the other girl, growing even more upset. Crying seemed like a very good idea.

She made a squeaking noise in the back of her throat, and rushed over to Delilah, throwing her arms around the girl as she broke down. Maybe she shouldn’t have hugged the girl, but she knew she needed a hug so Delilah must need one too. She had gone so long without a hug from anyone, without a smile even. A real smile. She didn’t feel like a person anymore, she felt like a scrap who only had one pair of shoes.

(( hope the hugging isnt too much, moira must be a hugger lol ))

Delilah was suprised when Moira rushed her, jumping back slightly before the other girls small arms wrapped around her. Then she realised it wasn't an attack, it was a hug. A hug! No one had hugged her for days. Sobbing in her small voice, the blue eyed girl hugged Moira back. Sniffing, she pulled back.

"I..I..I'm s-s-sorry I w-w-was muh-muh-mean to you!" She hitched between sobs and sniffs, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. Why didn't she just let Moira mop in the first place? It was silly of her. Now she had muddy shoes and a blotchy face. And there was mud. Everywhere.

Moira pulled back when Delilah did, and smiled through her tears when she apologized. She thought the whole thing was odd, normally something like this never would have happened. Normally they may not have even ever talked to each other. But they weren't really normal now, were they?

She ram her arm over her eyes, wiping away her tears. she took a deep breath to calm herself down, and then spoke.

"I-im sorry, t-too. I didn't m-mean to m-mess up your shoes." She felt awful now that she remembered the girl didn't have any more shoes, and couldn't get more. Here she was ruining something that maybe made someone else's hard life easier, and doing it just to be mean. She wanted to offer to buy the girl new shoes, but she would never be able to.

Moira looked down at the floor, and giggled. It had been a while since the last time she had made a muddy mess. It was a good thing they wouldn't have to clean-- Oh.

Her face fell, and she sighed. She stared at the mess for a few minutes, and then smiled up at Delilah.

"Hey, I wonder what would happen if we pretended we didn't make this mess." She was trying to worm her way out of it. "What do you say we go to another hallway, clean up, and deny we were ever here?" Of course she would only do it if Delilah agreed; she didn't want to get tattled on by her just because the girl had to clean it by herself, in case a matron found them out.

Delilah looked to the mud on the floor, to the broom and the mop, to her shoes, then to Moira. It wasn't a hard decision.

"Let's go!" She said with puffy red eyes and a big grin. Lifting her muddied broom, she began to leave the hallway, hoping Moira knew of another one. This school was like one big giant city all of its own!

"Have you been here for long?" The child asked as they walked, shaking off her shoes here and there.

Moira grinned and took off after Delilah, her mop dripping behind her. She had forgotten her bucket, but who would even notice a bucket in the middle of a mud mess? She wasn’t running anywhere specific; she was mostly just trying to run until they weren’t leaving muddy footprints anymore. When that finally happened they would surely be far enough away, right?

"Seven awful horrible days!" She said between breaths. She already knew how many days Delilah had been in.

"They dragged me here and threw me in this horrible dress... They make me clean! I hate it!" She said in almost a growl. "I guess now they get to clean up a mess for themselves!" she said triumphantly.

She didn’t think about the fact that she had just made work for other passives, she just knew she didn’t want to be the one cleaning that up.

Delilah giggled with Moira, nodding as they moved.

"Oh yes, they will be so angry at that mess! And they'll have to clean it because they won't know where we are! Stupid...gollies!" She exclaimed with another giggle.

"I don't want to clean ever again! I hate cleaning! You know what? If I were at home, I would never clean! Nanny would do it! We should...we should run away! Then they would see how mean they are!" Her mind was running away with her imagination, and in her head, she could see them stealing away in the night on pretty white moa's and then there was a beautiful castle full of wonderful toys and people who would never make them clean again. Or smack their bottoms. It was wonderful!

Moira laughed, stupid gollies was right! They may have big beds with curtains and canopies, and little cakes that melted in your mouth as if they were made of sugar, and the fancy dresses and closets of shoes... But they were still stupid. Now that she was no longer one of them she could see how truly stupid they were. As long as she didn’t allow herself to think about how she would rejoin them in a heartbeat, she could go on believing that.



She gasped at the thought of running away. As much as she hated it here she had never really thought of seriously running away. It didn’t sound too possible for her to do it all on her own, but with a friend she might make it.

"We should!" She yelled and skidded to a stop. The girl reached out and grabbed Delilah's sleeve to stop her as she caught her breath. "We should run from here and go... We could go somewhere else!" Creative, this one.

Her head was spinning as ideas ran through her head. She saw herself running up her homes front steps and being with her parents again, and Delilah was there too! She was showing her new friend off to her mother, explaining that she wasn’t a bad passive at all! It was perfectly fine for her to be their friends. The girl grinned at Delilah as she planned all of this.

What brought her back down to reality (for the moment, at least) was Delilah's dress and shoes. Sure, they were pretty, but the coating of mud wasn’t helping them look too much better. She looked at her own dress and glared. She didn’t even know how she had gotten so muddy. Before the two were going to get anywhere, they would need to clean up. She looked back up at the other girl and scratched her head as she brushed a curl behind her ear.

"You know where any sinks are?" She asked.