Michelle rose at the crack of dawn, as always. It had been already three months since she'd been living in Green Meadows Orphanage, but she was still used to all the things she used to do- after all, the daily routine had been exactly the same for eight years.
Michelle sat quietly in bed. The other girls in her room, nine others, were still asleep. They never awoke as early as Michelle, and nobody knew about Michelle's habit. In fact, they had not really tried to get to know her. Michelle, to them, had always been quite peculiar. They thought of her as a queer little girl, and since the first few days she'd been reluctant to answer their questions and very shy and distant, they'd given up. They were always polite, but they just weren't interested in her personality.
Not that Michelle blamed them. She was more used to people not liking her than to people wanting to know her, the real her. To her, this was normal. Her parents hadn't really cared about her, she knew that. They'd always said that when she got punished and hit, it was for her own good, but she knew better. She hadn't ever been sure whether to believe it. It just didn't seem right to her, and when she saw other families, they seemed different, and not as unhappy.
Michelle softly laid one foot on the ground, watching the other girls intently for a reaction, but no one stirred. She was safe. She tip-toed her way into the bathroom and stared at her reflection.
She thought she was an average looking girl. Her eyes were a mossy green, and probably her best feature, but she was used to them, and didn't regard them as anything special. Her hair had always been cut short, for "no need to waste shampoo on Michelle", her mother had always said. It boyishly hung around her face, the brown locks suiting her well, but it was not her best look. The bruises on her face had faded, and Michelle got a look at how she looked without them. Her eyelashes were long and dark, giving her a very feminine look- which contrasted with her hair.
She was not ugly, although she thought so.
She was unusually short for being an eight-year-old, and quite underfed, although that had improved since she'd arrived to Green Meadows Orphanage, but they DID have to feed sixty children with barely any income to speak of. She was already feeling stronger, but not happier. She knew the days without beatings would not last. How could they? In her mind, all parents beat their children. After all, this was the only truth she'd ever known, and she didn't know any other way.
Little did she know that her life would turn around within days.

The day was normal, for being summertime. She sat by herself next to the orchard, singing to herself and dreaming up stories of unicorns, kittens and rainbows, until Matron Joanne yelled at her for dreaming and sent her to play with the other children, which was awkward.
The only person she was somewhat become close to was Sammy, a little five-year-old who shared her teddy bear with her. He was an adorable boy, but being different ages they had different schedules, since at the orphanage everything was well planned in order for everything to work smoothly.
She also knew her sister, Carrie, but that was different. They had never been close. Carrie was already twelve and was more rebellious and unacceptant of what fate had granted her. She was much taller, but her looks were similar to Michelle's.
However, in terms of character, they were total opposites. Carrie was strong-willed while Michelle was much weaker in that sense- which meant Carrie had received many more blows. She dealt with it better, though... she didn't accept it as normal and she answered back to her parents, attempting to run away often and taking action.
She had been, in fact, the one to talk to the police.
Michelle shivered. She could remember that day vividly, three months and two weeks back...

* Flashback *

"You greedy, greedy child!"
Michelle had been reaching to grab some candy, but her hand had been intercepted by none other than Bertha Porter.
"I- I'm sorry, Mother, I didn't mean to be greedy."
"No, and I'm going to make sure you never are again, too." Bertha Porter smiled an evil smile, which made Michelle feel sick to her stomach with "anticipation". Not.
She knew what was coming, it had happened before.
However, this time was different.
Michelle could remember with sickening detail how Bertha swung her hand in the air, and she squeezed her eyes shut preparing for the blow which was sure to follow.
However, the next thing she knew, she was lying on the floor and Carrie was by her side. She was sobbing loudly and yelling.
"You killed her! I'm going to turn you over to the police! I've put up with this long enough, Bertha Porter!" she shouted with rage evident in her voice.
She was dead? Michelle felt confused. If she was dead, why could she feel the sharp pain in her head, and why was she lying on the floor? Shouldn't she already be in heaven?
It really didn't make any sense, and she felt more puzzled and in more pain every second that passed.
"You wouldn't dare!" Bertha hissed. "Anyhow, she was too much of an expense."
"How dare you be so heartless? This is your child, Bertha Porter. Your own flesh and blood and you treat her like she's garbage. We don't deserve that, Bertha!" Carrie yelled, grabbing the phone in a hurry while Bertha stuck her arm out trying to snatch the phone out of her daughter's hand.
Carrie kicked her mother like a horse, momentarily making her lose her balance, and she shakily dialed a number that she'd come to know by heart, that she had learned so that when the right moment came she could turn her parents over to the police, like she knew she should.
"Stop that!" Bertha yelled and stuck her hand on her daughter's mouth so she couldn't speak, but Carrie bit her fingers.
"You..." Bertha began to curse her own daughter and the day that she'd had her, sitting down on the couch. She then smiled. "They aren't going to believe you, anyway. You're just twelve years old, who in his right mind would believe a twelve-year-old over a thirty-year-old?"
"Hello... yes, my name is Carrie Porter..." began Michelle's sister.
Michelle still laid on the ground, doing her best to stay still, hoping that that way she would receive any more kicks or blows from her mother, who obviously thought she was dead.

* End of flashback *

They had believed her, and even more when they'd seen the evidence: eight-year-old full of bruises and with a concussion, twelve-year-old also with bruises and with two broken ribs?
It was an easy case.
Within several hours they were taken to the orphanage, where they were to stay momentarily. However, it had taken only a month for their parents to be proven guilty and sent to prison, so they were basically orphans.
Michelle preferred it that way. She had a sure meal, no beatings, her own bed, and many other children to play with and talk to. In theory.
She still felt the same way she had at home. Empty. And confused.
What was normal and what was not? A psychologist had tried to talk to her about such things, but for the eight years of her life Michelle had been taught things that it wouldn't take a day to reverse. In fact, it would take many years to heal from those deep wounds, both physical and emotional, that her so-called parents had created.

----------------------------------------------------------

This is the music for one last cry
This is a prayer that tomorrow will
Help me leave the past behind
It's a song for the unloved

Song for the unloved, Backstreet Boys.

The only thing that was different in the day was the afternoon.
Being the first Saturday in the month, Michelle was told, she was to report to the auditorium, where parents were going to look at the orphans and talk to them, then decide if they wanted to adopt one.
To most of the children, this was a little glimmer of hope.
But Michelle's heart sank.
She left her hair uncombed, put on her most worn clothes and tried to look her worst. She didn't want to be adopted. Her concept of a family was not a happy one: she pictured many punishments, daily punishments, and no love. She thought she was happy at Green Meadows Orphanage, and she was. There were always meals, she had a clean bed, and many other children to play with and talk to. In theory. She had only befriended Sammy, whom she saw on her way to the auditorium.
They were to stand in line, and at five o' clock parents would come in. It was a moment that Michelle dreaded. She didn't want to be adopted: thanks, but no thanks!
She stared in despair as parents piled into the room: eight or nine fathers and their spouses, and some came with other children.
Michelle started crying. The small tears glided down her cheek and she was seeing blurry- until a certain blond man knelt next to her. He smiled, as if she wasn't crying.
"Hello." he softly said.
"Hi." Michelle said. She didn't want any parents to like her, but she didn't want them to think she was rude, either.
The man smiled more widely, and so did his wife and the little blond boy that was with them.
"What's your name?"
"Michelle." she answered, feeling that the conversation was not going the way she wanted it to. They seemed to be genuinely interested in her, which was, to Michelle, a warning sign.
"How old are you?"
Michelle held up a hand and three fingers.
"Eight, huh?" the man grinned. "What's your bear's name?"
Michelle looked down. She had not realized that she was holding Sammy's bear, hugging him close. Sammy, who stood next to her, noticed at the same time.
"Hey, that's my bear, give it back!" Sammy yelled, tugging at the big, soft brown bear.
Michelle let go. "You can have your stupid bear, for all I care, Sammy!" she bitterly said, hoping that when these people saw how mean she was to the other children, they would lose interest in her.
It had the opposite effect.
"Look at her, she's terrified." said the woman, talking for the first time, though not to her.
"Poor thing." said Brian, as if Michelle wasn't there. "If you become our little daughter, we'll get you a bear just like Sammy's." he sweetly directed his attention to Michelle again.
"I don't want one, and I don't want to be your girl either."
Brian looked overwhelmed. "Why not?" he asked.
"Because I try to be good, I do, but I can never be good enough and I don't like to have the owies, here they don't hit me." Michelle explained, not realizing what she had said.
"Did your daddy hit you, Michelle?"
"Yes, and mommy did, too." Michelle whispered.
"We would never do that to you, Michelle."
"That's what they all say." Michelle bitterly explained. "They said that too, and they said that they wouldn't do it if I was a good girl, but I could never be good enough. I'm sorry. Find a better girl."
"We like you, Michelle. We're sorry you think that you're not good enough for us, but I think you are. Now, I'm going to talk to Matron Joanne right over there, and we'll see if we can see each other again and maybe you change your mind and decide you do want to be part of our family, after all."
Michelle looked up into the blond man's kind face. She had never talked to someone like that, so nice, and she was afraid that it was a fake. But the look on his face gave no indication of that, nor did the wife's nor the boy's.
Maybe they were nice, after all? Maybe they were one of those families that the psychologist had talked about, families that really were nice and didn't hit their children if they were bad?
She didn't know whether she could trust them, and time was running out to decide.

The couple, though they seemed anxious to make Michelle part of the family, respected Michelle's wishes, for the time being, and they came to visit the very next day. It was easier, or harder, depending on how you look at it, because there were no other children next to them. It was just Mr. and Mrs. Littrell (that's what they were called), and their other child.
"Hello!" said Mr. Littrell solemnly, though he desperately wanted to hug the little girl. Something in her gaze had touched him the day before, and she seemed in more need of a family and of love than many of the other children.
"Hi." Michelle said. She'd been combed my Matron Joanne herself, and she was wearing her newest dress, a green dress with a very full skirt which made her feel like a princess, so she was looking quite a bit better than the day before.
"Hi, Michelle." said Mrs. Littrell, then she nudged the little boy.
" 'Ello." he said. "I'm Baylee."
"Hi, Baylee, I'm Michelle." Michelle introduced herself.
"So tell us, Michelle... what do you like to do?"
"I- I like music... I've always wanted to learn how to sing and how to play the piano..."
Mr. Littrell's eyes widened. "Have you really? I'm a singer."
That didn't make Michelle feel any better. It meant that she had said the right thing, and she didn't want to say the right thing. She was pretty sure that they could be trusted, but she still preferred the orphanage: the familiar old building with the now-familiar children, and the things she'd gotten used to.
Mr. and Mrs. Littrell sat down on the couch with Baylee between them, and Michelle stood there reluctantly for a moment before deciding to climb on Mr. Littrell's lap, it felt right.
Mr. Littrell looked pleased. "Does that mean you've decided you want to come home with us, Michelle?" he softly whispered into Michelle's ear.
Michelle was more confused. Did she? She wasn't sure. A part of her wanted to yell "yes!", and the rest of her just wanted to run away, or pinch herself: it could be a dream.
All couples that seemed unlike her own parents seemed like a dream to her. It didn't seem possible that parents like that existed, and if parents really liked their children, and didn't hit them when they were greedy or bad, then why had hers done that?
Michelle just wasn't sure what to believe anymore.
"I- I don't know." Michelle softly answered. "It seems like a dream."
"Do you want me to tickle you and find out if you wake up?" Mr. Littrell teased.
Michelle smiled and shrank away, but Mr. Littrell and Mrs. Littrell attacked her with tickles.
"Stop! Stop!" Michelle yelled between giggles. "Okay." she said in a daze. "But can you adopt my sister, too? I don't want to be apart from her. And it's not fair that she gets left behind."
All giggles faded, the Littrells had not expected this.
"What's your sister's name?" asked Mrs. Littrell.
"Carrie."
"How old is she?"
"Twelve..."
Mr. and Mrs. Littrell gave each other a look that Michelle was unable to decipher.
"Well, let's see her." Mr. Littrell said after a long pause. They both seemed deep in thought. Mrs. Littrell got up and went to the hall, probably searching for Matron Joanne's office so that she could talk to her about this.
"So, Michelle... what color do you like best?"
"Green."
"It suits you." Mr. Littrell decided. "Your eyes are a beautiful green."
"Thanks."
"You've got Spanish eyes." he added, but Michelle didn't get it.
"Uh... my grandfather was Spanish." she explained.
"Really? From where?"
"Terrassa, I think it was called? Somewhere near Barcelona." Michelle said, surprised and proud at herself and her progress. She was actually managing to have a conversation with her father-to-be. And just a few minutes earlier she had dreaded the thought of coming to see them again.
Baylee, who'd been unusually quiet, snored softly.
Michelle looked at Mr. Littrell and burst into laughter, they both did.
Michelle liked Mr. Littrell, she decided. He didn't seem like a bad father, at least so far. Of course, her biological parents hadn't seemed like bad parents to anyone in town, either, and no one could believe it when news came out that they'd been taken to prison.
So who knew? But so far her childlike trust told her to trust them. They seemed very kind and interested in getting to know her and being her parents. And if she could have Carrie, too, at least she'd have someone she knew by her side.

---------

What makes you different
Makes you beautiful
What's there inside you
Shines through to me

What makes you different (makes you beautiful), Backstreet Boys.

She wasn't to have her by her side.
For some unexplainable reason, Matron Joanne refused to let them adopt Carrie, but let them have Michelle.
When Michelle heard the news, she cried. She hadn't been close to Carrie, but she was still her sister. It just didn't seem right to be apart.
She was crying as Mr. and Mrs. Littrell signed the dozens of contracts and papers, and as they took her birth certificate, and as they helped her pack her things.
By two o' clock she was ready to go, but not, of course without talking to her sister.
"Carrie!" she exclaimed, although she was right in front of her. They both knew the news and were sobbing.
"I love you!"
"I'll never forget you!"
"We'll see each other again!"
"I'll ask them if I can come back and see you every time I'm feeling lonely."
"They can't separate us totally, Michelle. We'll see each other again." she repeated.
Then they hugged each other, a big bear hug and for the longest time neither of them let go of each other.
"Let's go." the Littrells said, after letting the girls hug and talk for more than half an hour.
"You'll write, won't you?" Carrie asked.
"Of course." Michelle said.
"Well, bye. Write soon." Carrie said.
They hugged one last time, said their last goodbyes, then Michelle took Mr. Littrell's hand as they walked to the car.
"Do you like cats, Michelle?"
"Yes, but my parents never let me have any." Michelle explained.
"Well, we've got a little kitten. Her name is Laika."
"That's an interesting name..."
"Baylee made it up, didn't you, Bay?"
"Yup!" the three-year-old proudly said, as he climbed into the car and strapped himself into his seat.
Michelle sat on the seat next to him, and also fastened her seat belt. She looked around. She'd never seen such a car before, it was very big and clean.
"Would you like a juice?" Mrs. Littrell asked, holding out a little bottle.
Michelle accepted it, and felt her stomach grumble.
"We'll stop at a restaurant to have a late lunch and celebrate." Mr. Littrell suggested. Michelle sipped at her juice, and much to her relief, did not spill a drop.
"Yeah!" yelled Michelle, then she fell quiet. "I've never been to one, I wouldn't know what to do..."
She was worried.
"Don't worry, Michelle, you'll do just fine." assured Mrs. Littrell.
Michelle was worried, anyway, and more when she saw the place they were going to be eating- very fancy.
They all sat at a table for four and Michelle looked around, stunned at how beautiful it all was. Flowers and candles everywhere, people in suits and dresses. Michelle felt both underdressed and out of place.
"Mr. Littrell," said Michelle. "I can't understand the menu."
Mr. Littrell began to explain what was in every plate, and in the end she just settled on a steak and fries- it was what seemed most safe.
So far, so good.
Michelle had a deliriously good time, enjoying both the food and the company.
"Now, Michelle, I saw that you don't have many things with you, so tomorrow first thing we'll take you shopping." Mrs. Littrell decided. "But for now we're going home and you can settle in. I'm sure it's all a bit confusing to you right now, but we love you and want to help you figure things out."
"Thanks." Michelle whispered. "I'll be a good girl."
"I'm sure you will, honey." Mrs. Littrell smiled.
The house was not too far away, just about an hour's drive. Michelle just looked out of the window and took in the sights, sights which would become familiar but that, for now, amazed her.
The house amazed her, too. It was like a mansion, three floors and plenty of extra bedrooms.
Her room was plain white, Michelle discovered, because she was to choose the colors and designs that she liked best to decorate her own room. It was bigger than any room she'd ever seen- and she liked it. She liked having her own double bed which she could jump on all she wanted, and a chest full of toys, and her own bathroom just next door.
It was like a dream. She could already see how it was going to be: a soft mint green color, with white curtains and white carpet. It was going to be beautiful.
That is, if it was real, and not a trap. It could be, Michelle told herself. Who in his right mind would give all this to a little girl he'd met just the day before?
And she already missed her sister.

-------

Without you I just can't find my way
In a perfect world
This could never happen
In a perfect world
You'd still be here

Perfect world, Simple Plan.

Downstairs on the porch, Brian Littrell sat on the swing thinking about the things that had happened so far. Michelle had captured his heart. She seemed so lovable, and vulnerable, and just adorable. He longed to hug her close and tell her that she was going to be fine and there wasn't any reason for her to be scared any longer. Yet he could see plainly the inner struggle that she was having- to trust or not to trust? He hoped they could make her see that she could trust them.
What little he'd been told about her past made him shudder. This little girl had been through so much, and she so desperately needed and deserved love.
He wanted to save her, and to mend her soul and body.
He knew that she'd suffered a lot, and that she'd been hit by her biological parents, until Carrie helped put a stop to it. He was so thankful to Carrie, for helping bring such a special young girl into their lives, and he had barely gotten a chance to meet and thank her. Why couldn't she be adopted? Carrie had a right to a family, too.
He took a sip of his coffee and stared into the sunset. It was beautiful, like his new daughter.
Why exactly had he chosen her? He wasn't sure. Had it been her big green, sad eyes? Or the look on her face? Or had he just been attracted to the character that shined through the tears?
He went inside, already feeling a bit chilled. It was nearly autumn, and already beggining to cool down, as it was the first Sunday in September.
He headed up to the attic, where he had his studio set up. What attracted him most was the grand piano. He wasn't the world's greatest piano, but he did know several melodies. He began to play "Incomplete", losing himself into the music, and didn't realize when a small girl entered the studio and sat on the nearest couch.
"That's was beautiful, Mr. Littrell." she said in awe.
Mr. Littrell spun around, surprised. "Michelle! I didn't know you were here. Come on over, don't be shy." he invited her, gesturing with his hand for Michelle to sit next to him. Remembering her interest in learning how to play the piano, he began to teach her the names of the notes, and for her enjoyment, played "Incomplete" again. This time he sang the lyrics. She loved it, asking him to sing other songs, too, and with a smile he honoured her wish, singing many songs.
"That's so cool!" Michelle said. "You sing like an angel."
Mr. Littrell smiled. "Four other men sing along with me, would you like to hear?"
Michelle nodded furiously, so Mr. Littrell put on the "Millenium" CD, and Michelle listened carefully, sometimes picking out Mr. Littrell's voice, and she was delighted.
"Wow, Mr. Littrell, when you said you were a singer, I never pictured this..."
"Michelle, maybe it will feel strange right now if you try to call me Daddy, and I understand. But maybe you'd prefer to call me Brian? 'Mr. Littrell' sounds like I'm an old man, and do I look like an old man to you?"
Michelle giggled. "Okay, Mr. Lit-" she laughed again. "I mean, okay, Brian."
They spent about two hours just listening to the music, sometimes even making it. Brian found that Michelle had a good ear for music, and thought she would be a pretty good pianist once he got her a teacher, something he'd already started planning.
In his mind he'd already laid out Michelle's whole future, same as he did with Baylee when he was born. Same as most parents probably do.
Then they went downstairs for supper. It was delicious, and again Michelle found herself really happy.
This was what family was like. Not at all like anything she'd ever known, and every few minutes something new surprised her.
She, too, realized that she needed to heal from all those wounds that her real parents had created, and it was going to be difficult, but she knew she was on the right track now.
She'd decided that she could trust the Littrells, and now she was going to start the road onto putting the theory into practice and making herself trust and love them, not as friends, but as family. Her new family.
She was looking forward to weeks and months and years of this. She could get used to this. The love and comfort they had was overwhelming and it made her happy. Very happy.

-----------------------

Please help me mend my broken heart and let me live again.
[...] And how can you mend a broken heart?
How can you stop the rain from falling down?
How can you stop the sun from shining?

How can you mend a broken heart, Michael Bublé.

The next day was like meeting the Littrells again. She got to see what they normally did, although of course they changed their routine just for her.
At around nine thirty, Mrs. Littrell came and softly woke Michelle up.
"Hello, honey. How did you sleep?"
"Really well, thanks." Michelle shyly answered as she watched her new mother put the shade up, letting in the sun. It matched her mood.
She realized that, for once, she hadn't woken up at dawn.
Michelle got out of bed and followed Mrs. Littrell downstairs.
"Wow, Mrs. Littrell, you didn't have to make such a big breakfast!" she exclaimed at the sight of the table. There were plates of bacon, omelettes, pancakes, bread, ham, cheese... To put it more simply, it was full of food. Lots of it.
Michelle hadn't had any such meal at home, nor at the Orphanage, and was quite overwhelmed by the abundance of food.
" 'Ello, Michelle!" Baylee brightly yelled while he sunk his fork into a piece of scrambled eggs.
Michelle poured herself a half cup of orange juice, not wanting to seem greedy, and then helped herself to as much food as she felt she could without seeming greedy, as well.
"Why, honey..." said Leighanne. Michelle shrunk back, expecting to be hit. Her mother had done so whenever Michelle had wanted anything else than the bare necessities.
Of course, Leighanne did nothing of the sort. "Help yourself to as much as you want, don't be shy."
"Okay." Michelle said, but still didn't help herself to any more. "Mrs. Littrell, where's your husband?" she asked before popping some eggs into her mouth.
"You can call me Leighanne, honey, and to answer your question, he's gone to see his friends. You know, the ones who sing with him? He's told you about that, hasn't he?"
"Yes." said Michelle. "Are they going to come?"
"Just one of them for now, and then we'll go shopping. You need many things."
Michelle nodded thoughtfully. She didn't really want to meet Brian's friend, but she was anxious to not let down her new parents, so she wanted to make as good an impression as she could to their friends.
After breakfast- Leighanne finally managed to assure her that she could eat as much as she wanted- Michelle skipped upstairs, trying to find her room. There were so many rooms! She couldn't remember if hers was the second or the third on the left, so she looked in.
"Ahhhh!" she screamed. Then, shaken, she looked down at the soft thing that had rubbed her leg.
"You all right, Michelle?" called Leighanne, concerned.
"Yes! It's just Laika, she startled me." Michelle answered, then picked up the black kitten, taking her in her arms.
"We both got homes, huh?" Michelle whispered to the kitten. "We both needed a home and we got one."
She opened the third door on the left, and was relieved that it was her bedroom. She'd found it.
She pulled her photograph album out of her backpack, which contained all her things, and stared at the only picture she had. She was starting to see blurry.
The picture was her only photograph of Carrie and herself, and she could not really recognise herself.
She'd looked at it so many times that it was bent, but you could still clearly see the faces of the two girls. Michelle at the time had been eight months old, and Carrie, right next to her, had been not yet four. What was most important, they seemed happy.
That was one of Michelle's most prized possessions. She'd stolen it from her mother's album and her mother had never realized it- she didn't bother to look at the pictures. She just stuck them in the album and promptly forgot.
A tiny tear escaped from Michelle's eye.
'I miss you, Carrie.' she thought.
She carefully returned the photo to its place, looking around for something else to think about and concentrate in. And she realized she hadn't unpacked.
She didn't have that many things, anyway. She put away her underwear in just a minute, then worked on finding a good place to put her two T-shirts, her only skirt, and her jeans, so worn that they had several rips and were too short for Michelle. But she'd always had to put up with these things. She put away her two sweaters and her only tennis shoes.
She was also wearing her only pyjamas.
She changed into some of her clothes and took one last look at the photograph before going back downstairs.
Hopefully, one day, the photograph of the family would include Mr. and Mrs. Littrell, Baylee, Michelle... and Carrie.

-------------------------------

Hold up... hold on... don't be scared
You'll never change what's been and gone
May your smile shine on... don't be scared

Stop crying your heart out, Oasis.


--------------------------------



Michelle's photograph.

The shopping was difficult, too. Michelle had gone shopping before, but never for her own things. The things she owned were hand-me-downs from Carrie, and whenever she'd been shopping, it was to help her mother. She was supposed to look for all the things and climb on her mother's shoulder to get the things that were very far up, sometimes very heavy things, which she'd dropped more than once. Of course, she had been punished later. At the shop her mother would smile fakely and call a worker to pick it up, but then when Bertha had to pay for it, Michelle would have to work extra hard the following weeks to "pay back" the money.
With the Littrells it was nothing like that. Their first stop was at the toy shop, where they were going to pick out several new toys for Michelle.
Michelle could think of many things she wanted, but she didn't want to drop anything or to be thought of as greedy, so she kept her mouth shut and unhappily hovered around Leighanne.
"Would you like a big bear?" Leighanne asked, stroking her new daughter's short hair.
Michelle's face light up. "Yeah!" she said. "If it's not very expensive. I mean, I don't want to spend a lot of weeks paying you back."
Leighanne looked shocked. "Pay us back, why? You don't need to do that, honey. We want to buy you toys. With our own money."
"Really?" Michelle was astonished. She then took a look at the bear. She took it off the shelf and gave it a big hug. It was softer than Sammy's bear. She hugged it tightly, and it felt right- just the right size for her. "I love it, Leighanne, thanks!" she exclaimed happily.
In the end, they'd gone without Brian. Brian had called to say that Nick and him were having a very long conversation, and to go ahead and start shopping, that they would catch up a little bit later. Michelle was actually glad. She didn't feel like meeting her parents' friends just yet, she was having trouble feeling comfortable with her parents themselves!
They ended up buying only the bear, because, as Michelle put it: "There's already tons of toys at your house."
It was her house too, now, but it felt strange calling it home. She hadn't spent even a whole day there!
At the clothes store, Michelle felt even more intimidated. This time she had no idea what to get or even look at, there were so many things!
Leighanne was very understanding and she helped Michelle pick out some cute, simple things. She got her several skirts and dresses, some new jeans (she'd seen the state of the old ones while packing at the orphanage, and she'd been shocked), some new tennis shoes, flip-flops, dressy shoes, T-shirts, shirts, other trousers... basically, she got her some of everything. The thing was, Michelle needed some of everything. Leighanne could not believe the amount of clothes Michelle had, nor the stories she said, little things that she explained, and she seem to think them normal. They were normal things, to Michelle, but Leighanne and Brian were shocked by these things. How an eight year old could have dealt with all this? They just couldn't understand it. They really wanted to help her. She was so loveable, and she needed their love so desperately... She was really sweet and they couldn't understand why her mother hadn't really loved her, how could you help not loving the child? It didn't seem possible to them. To them, Michelle's mother had to have been positively out of her mind to do all those things she did and to not love her daughters. They could understand that Carrie had been unexpected and unwanted, but she remained her child. If they hadn't wanted her, they could have just give her up for adoption, and not do what they'd done.
Whatever had happened in Michelle's sad past, the Littrells desperately wanted to be part of her future. And, though she seemed reluctant and shy, they knew she wanted them to be part of her future, too.

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Grew up in a small town
And when the rain would fall down
I'd just stare out my window
Dreamin' of what could be
And if I'd end up happy
I would pray

Trying hard to reach out
But when I tried to speak out
Felt like no one could hear me
Wanted to belong here
But something felt so wrong here
So I prayed I could breakaway


Breakaway, Kelly Clarkson.

The next few days were full of new discoveries and of happiness, for both Michelle and her new parents. Michelle felt like she couldn't have been luckier, and so did the Littrells. All four in the family were making an effort to adjust, though it was difficult. Most adopted children have lots of trouble adjusting and socially, and Michelle was no exception, but she had lucked out- she had the Littrells to help her out.
It took her a full month to start calling Brian "Dad", and five weeks to call Leighanne "Mom", but when she began to call them that, it felt right. Her other parents had been her biological parents, but the Littrells had been much better parents in every single way they could. They felt much more like her real parents than the Porters ever had.
The truth is that Michelle began to be the kind of girl that the Littrells had seen in her that fateful day at the orphanage: a happy, beautiful, smart child. They discovered she was really good at music and started taking her to lessons right away, which she enjoyed a lot. They restored her photograph of her Carrie and hung an enlarged version in the living room, and also they discovered that she enjoyed and was very good at photography, so they also bought her a fairly good camera.
In short, she was happy. It took time, but she turned into a very successful, well-adjusted girl, both at school and at home. It wouldn't be true to say that the Porters hadn't done any permanent damage, but she learned to get over it and smile.

---------------------

I love you, I love you, I love you
that's all I want to say
Until I find a way
I will say the only words I know you'll understand

Michelle, ma belle.


Michelle, the Beatles.