Blaire walked along the path till she was sure she was out of Edmund's sight. Quickly, she darted into the forest. After a bit of running and jumping over fallen trees she returned to a normal pace. She spotted a bush full of bright blue berries. She stomach grumbled against her will.

She had already had supper.

More than usual.

She had no right to be hungry.

Still her feet betrayed her and she started picking the berries. She held one up to the sunlight. It’s blue had a hint of purple. Throwing them down, she sighed. Poisonous. Continuing on she finally reached the graveyard. A few young kids walking by spotted her and quickly turned down another path. Blaire kept her head down. Hurrying down an abandoned path she found the shack she called home.

One floor and only three rooms that all barely fit. A small bathroom, her tiny bedroom and the kitchen/sitting room. Blaire pushed open the stubborn door and saw her scruffy kitten sleeping on the couch.

“Hey Marigold” Blaire said. The little kitten’s ears perked up. With a quick meow for hello she bounced over to Blaire.

She was only a month old. A mix of brown tabby, orange cat, some white fur and a very fluffy coat made up the cute Marigold. Blaire picked her up and walked to the cupboard. An old tin of tuna waited for the hungry kitten. Blaire didn’t mind giving her food to Marigold. She had found her when she was just a few weeks old. The lady who owned the cats called her a mutt. Blaire had found her on her walk to school, playing in the old lady’s garden.

“Keep her, the moms not doing much for the mutt” the lady had said after Blaire had been playing with her. She gave the kitten time to say goodbye then placed her in her bag. The teacher almost caught Marigold but luckily Edmund was being loud then. Her mom couldn’t say no. She had come home late that night to find Blaire asleep on the couch with the little thing curled up in her arms. Blaire figured it was going to be another one of those nights.

“Alright honey, no more for now” Blaire said, putting away the half eaten tin of tuna. Marigold meowed in protest. It hurt Blaire but if she didn’t, the poor thing would go hungry tomorrow. Scooping up the little fuzzball in her arms, she gathered her own thin blanket and sat by a little flower patch outside. The good thing about this shack was the little stream beside it.

Some boys from her grade walking by snickered at where while she set up. She quickly turned to look at them. They screamed and ran away. Blaire almost packed up. Marigold pawed at her arm. Sighing, she sat down and pulled out a book from her bag. Marigold played with a forget-me-not on the edge of the blanket.

Late into the evening Blaire’s mother found her. She had just gotten home after a long day of work. They all went inside and fell asleep inside, both dreading for tomorrow.