Apparently, babies cried when they were born.
Mara hadn't cried when she was born. The only time she had cried was when the scar woman murdered her parents. She knew because she clearly remembered every moment of her life since she was born.
Apparently, that was also unusual.
Mara turned the page of the book on human biology. It was boring, but she'd already read all the interesting books in the orphanage a dozen times over.
Scrabbling came from the nearby wall. Mara was careful not to react, appearing to focus completely on her book from where she sat on the decaying wood floor. She'd chosen this spot on purpose; she knew it was only a matter of time before her rival showed themselves.
A rat, plump with matted fur, crawled out from a deceptively large crack in the wall. It sniffed, spying Mara, nose still buried in her book, and—more importantly—the plate of food she'd placed conveniently out of her reach.
Or so it thought.
Eyeing her cautiously, the rat scurried over to the plate, gave her one last glance, and buried its face in the tantalising treat. Still, Mara didn't react.
Three more seconds.
Two.
One.
Like lightning, Mara struck, snatching up the rat, too occupied with its feast to fully react. She grabbed it right as it turned to run. She held it close to her face as it squeaked and hissed at her.
"Well, well, well," said Mara. "What do we have here? Thought you could eat my dessert last week and get away with it?"
She paused for dramatic effect. A lot of villains in her favourite books did that. "Now, Ratticus, I will kill you. Just as I killed your father."
The newly dubbed Ratticus squirmed and scratched at her hand. But nothing it did prevented her from grabbing its head and wrenching it to the side, snapping its tiny neck.
Mara stood, retrieving the spade Ms. Livia used for gardening from the nearby closet. She took it and the body outside, where the boys were playing in the yard. The orphanage she lived in had a very big yard, big enough that she could sit in a corner and not be noticed by the other children.
She walked until she reached an area with numerous disturbed patches of dirt and began to dig. Once she had dug a big enough hole, she put Ratticus' body inside and buried it. Mara wasn't sure why she felt the need to bury all the rats she killed, or where she got the idea—certainly not from any book she'd read—it just felt right.
As she headed back to the building and to read her book, she passed by the boys again and felt a sudden impulse to stop. Somehow, Bruno had gotten up on the roof.
Lilypad Orphanage was a sad, dark building. She had no idea who named it that, but they probably weren't too bright; Mara had never seen a lilypad since she arrived. The entire building was made of cold, grey stone—cracked in some places. Light was visible from some of the also cracked windows, contrasting with the otherwise monochrome structure.
Right in front of the orphanage sat a large gnarled tree. The branches were too high for any of the children to climb, not for lack of trying. It looked like Bruno was going to try to jump into the tree from the roof, and the other boys were egging him on. Predictably, Cole stood front and centre.
Most would consider Cole to be the top dog in the hierarchy (she liked that word) of the orphanage. Mara considered him an annoyance. He and his cronies had been harassing her since the day she arrived, mostly just calling her names and sometimes stealing her food and her books. She put up with it because, for some reason, they never actually got physical with her; she didn't think it was because she was a girl—she'd once seen Cole push one of the other girls into a puddle—yet he'd never so much as poked her.
"Come on!" shouted Cole. "Don't be a wuss! Jump already!"
"I don't know, it looks pretty far…" said Bruno. His pudgy belly wobbled beneath his shirt.
"Just do it!"
Mara finally realized why she'd felt the urge to stop, why she couldn't look away. Bruno was going to die.
Unless she stopped him.
Mara didn't particularly like Bruno; he was fat, he ate a lot, and he mostly kept to himself, occasionally joining in on Cole's antics. He'd never lifted a finger to help her. But could she just watch as he leapt to his death?
No.
She'd watched her parents die, and did nothing because she'd been an itty-bitty baby. She wasn't a baby anymore. She refused to let another person die in front of her when she had the power to stop it.
Mara stepped forward and took a deep breath. "Bruno, don't jump!"
Every head turned to face her. "Butt out, weirdo!" Cole jeered. "Why don't you go back to playing with the rats? They're pretty much your only friends!" His goons laughed as if he'd just made the funniest joke ever.
"Shut up, Cole," said Mara before turning to look up at Bruno. "Bruno, listen to me; you need to come down from there right now. It's dangerous."
"Oooh! It's dangerous!" Cole spoke in an exaggerated, mocking tone, which sounded nothing like her. "C'mon, Bruno, you're gonna let Mara tell you what to do? Do it! Jump!"
Bruno took a deep breath, psyching himself up. "Bruno, please!" In desperation, Mara said something she really shouldn't have. "You'll die if you jump!"
The boys all looked at her like she'd grown another head. "Screw off with your made-up words, freak! No wonder your parents didn't want you!"
Mara gasped and took a step back. Orphanages were places where children whose parents didn't want to raise them for one reason or another were sent. Mara was the only kid there whose parents were actually dead. She'd quickly realized this along with another, far stranger truth.
Nobody died.
Or at least, nobody was supposed to. Every time Mara mentioned death to one of the adults or searched for it in a book, she found nothing. The adults gave her the same look they might give a child who presented them with a poorly drawn piece of artwork, dismissing her claims as nothing but products of a child's imagination. None of the books she read made any mention of death or people dying. Mara didn't understand why or how she knew these things, but she did. And they were true.
She took a deep breath, looking Bruno dead in the eyes. "You have nothing to prove, Bruno. Not to him. I'm begging you, come down before you hurt yourself. I'll…I'll give you my dessert today! So please come down!"
Bruno looked between her and Cole for a few seconds before sighing and stepping away from the edge. "Yeah…ok."
Mara sighed. Cole looked at her before grinning. "You hear that, Bruno? Mara thinks you can't do it! Why don't you prove her wrong? I'll give you my dessert for a week if you jump right now!"
Bruno's eyes widened, weighing his options. Cole started counting down from three. Mara couldn't believe Cole would go this far just to one-up her. She froze, for just a moment.
That hesitation cost her.
Bruno took a few steps back, then ran towards the edge of the roof.
"No!" she screamed, but it was too late. He jumped. Mara sprinted forward, as if to catch him, despite him likely weighing two of her.
It wouldn't have mattered. To his credit, Bruno did make it. He crashed face-first into a thick branch. His head cracked against the rough, old wood. A loud snapping noise echoed as his neck bent at an unnatural angle from the impact. His body spun in the air almost comically before falling to the ground with a thud.
No. Please, not again.
Everyone stared. No one said a word. Cole's face went pale; it seemed even he hadn't expected this outcome. The children glanced back and forth at her, at him, at each other. No one knew what to do. There appeared to be some sort of unspoken agreement to stay silent, as if any sound would turn this from a dream into reality.
A voice broke the silence. "What's all this ruckus? You boys better not be playing too rough!" It was Ms. Livia, the caretaker. She wore a simple grey dress, with grey gloves and grey boots. Her dirty blonde hair done up in a bun contrasted with her somewhat bland outfit. Upon catching sight of Bruno's crumpled form, she let out a sharp intake of breath, holding two hands up to her mouth. "Oh by Stella's flame, Bruno!"
She ran to crouch over the boy, briefly lifting him before the severity of what had happened became apparent. "Jade!" she called. "Fetch the healer, now!"
The healer would be useless. But nobody knew that. They all believed a broken neck could be fixed, that Bruno could be saved.
"What happened!?" asked Ms. Livia, her gaze sweeping over Mara and the assembled children.
Mara's eyes were blurry with tears. She didn't say anything; there'd be no point.
"I-it was Mara's fault!" Cole pointed a trembling finger at the girl. "We told Bruno not to do it, but she made him jump!"
Nods and cries of affirmation came from the other children, the boys understanding their leader's intention.
Mara ground her teeth together. She'd failed. Just like her parents eleven years ago, a person had died right in front of her. He'd been right in front of her, and she'd failed! She thought she was stronger now, that she could stop death. But she was just as powerless as a newborn baby.
And now they were blaming her. It was their fault! She'd been the only one trying to stop it, and now they said it was her fault!
Mara clenched her fists. She could have defended herself. Calmly explained what happened. Ms. Livia was smart enough not to believe Cole blindly.
A primal scream tore itself from her throat, and she lunged at Cole. Despite being a full head taller, the boy froze. Mara had never so much as raised her voice at him; he didn't know how to react. She grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, tackling him to the ground. She smashed her fist into his face. Crack! Blood sprayed from his nose where her fist impacted. She hit him twice more before he came to his senses and threw her off like an angry kitten.
Mara wasn't a violent person. She'd never been in a fight before; these were the first punches she'd ever thrown.
She lunged once more, but Ms. Livia grabbed her mid-leap. "That is enough! By Stella, what has gotten into you!? Inside, now! And you can forget about supper before bed!"