Peter Pantomime

"You're lucky to be one of the younger newcomers, you know." The brown-haired girl, who had been pretending to be asleep for a while, turned around and stared at the older girl on the bed next to her. "Never mind," the older girl muttered tiredly, waving her hand and brushing a yellow strand of hair out of her eyes. The dark circles under her eyes showed that she too had been awake for a while. Long past midnight. Long after the many children surrounding them had fallen asleep. "Don't bother thinking about it. You probably won't understand it." "What do you mean?" The older girl sighed and narrowed her eyes, wrapping her blanket more tightly around her shoulders. The moonlight filtering through the curtains cast an unearthly silver glow and they could hear the faint sound of different girls' breathing around them. "Do you remember your parents?" "No," the brown-haired girl replied meekly. "Did you come from a different orphanage before this one?" "No." It was the truth. The older girl groaned and fixed her pillow. "I didn't think so." The younger girl made no reply and watched her in silence. "Here. You can have this. I won't be needing it anymore." She handed something over. "Thank you," the younger girl muttered, curiously examining the doll. "It's something that's been passed down, ever since there was a girl who was oldest." She paused for a moment, waiting for a response. "You're supposed to nod, you know. Or say "I see." It's only polite." "Oh. I see," the brown-haired girl replied, blinking. "Not in front of the adults! But it's polite to show that you're paying attention between people like us." Pointing at the various sleeping figures around them, perhaps she meant other girls, or simply other children. Either way, the brown-haired girl simply nodded. "Go to sleep now. And for real." "Aren't you going to sleep, too?" The older girl frowned and rearranged the single pillow she had. "I can't. Nobody ever does. None of the other girls before me could. I doubt the boys were able to either." "What do you mean?" "Don't you know? I'm supposed to leave tomorrow. It's called 'aging out.' I'm too old to stay here. Look," the older girl stretched out one foot. Once she had straightened her leg, it hung over the edge of her bed, only partly covered by the blanket. "At a certain point, everyone here becomes too old to stay anymore. That's when you get booted." "Booted?" "They're not responsible for you anymore." "Why?" "It's the law." "Where are you supposed to go afterwards?" The older girl grimaced. "Is that when you get adopted?" The sound of breathing and the faint ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner seemed to have paused, along with everything else. "You know, you don't have to be adopted." "What?" "It's possible to age out and die without having a family your entire life. It's like an expiration date - if nobody adopts you before a certain time, you'll have to live that way for the rest of your life, unless you were born under a lucky star. It's not just orphanages. It happens to foster kids too." With that, she turned her back to the younger girl and wrapped her arms around the pillow more tightly. "People like older sisters more. I should have tried harder." She pulled her blanket over her head. "Don't forget to give the doll away."