January 15, 1971

"Can you tell me again why you packed all of your discs?" Anne asked, glancing back at her daughter in the rearview mirror.

Liz merely popped her gum at her mother and slouched in the seat beside her little brother. "Can you tell me why we're going all the way to Maine to visit great-grandma?" she smarted. "It's totally boring down there. She never lets me do anything."

Anne merely shook her head at her daughter and turned down the lane. "She's just trying to look out for you, that's all."

"Yeah, right." Liz laughed sardonically. "She's like a Nazi or something."

"You know, if you ask her to tell you about her past, you might find that you and your great-grandmother are an awful lot alike."

Liz rolled her eyes and looked out the window as they stopped at her great-grandmother's cabin. "Yeah. If I was a boring old lady."

"It's crazy to see how much these kids have grown," The old woman said from her cushy chair, gazing at her two great-grandchildren. "I haven't seen them since Lon was a baby, and Liz was just six. But look at her now, almost a woman." She shook her head.

Anne smiled at her grandmother. She could be a bit forgetful these days, but she still loved her. "You saw them at Christmas, two years ago." She stated.

The old woman raised a brow. "Oh? Did I?" With a heavy shrug, she settled back in her chair. "Oh well. They've still grown. You know how my brain works, Anne," She said with a sharp rap on her own skull. "It's got a mind of its own."

Anne merely shook her head at her grandmother and looked outside to check on her children. Of course, Lon was waiting on the front steps for his great-grandfather, and Liz was trying to do anything but. She never would stop trying to act cool, Anne thought of her daughter. Perhaps she just didn't understand yet.

A huge crack of thunder and a flash of lightening brought Anne out of her thoughts. Oh no, she thought. Now everyone was going to have to go inside to wait out the storm. This should be interesting, she thought with a sigh.

Liz pulled Lon in by his collar. "Granddad wouldn't want you all soaking wet, you idiot! Get in here before you drown out there!"

"Let me go!" Lon writhed, trying to get out of his sister's grip. Big sisters could be such a pain. "Mom, make her get off!" He whined. It was hard to be ten and have a stupid older sister boss you around.

Anne rubbed her temples. "Liz, let go of your brother. Lon, stop acting like a brat and sit down. Both of you sit down for a few minutes."

The siblings trudged over to the couch and moaned and groaned their displeasure at being cooped up inside. "At least there was something to do outside." Liz muttered.

The old woman shrugged. "Well, at least we still have electricity." She said brightly. About the same time as she said the word, the lights went out and all the electricity in the house flickered off with the next crack of thunder.

"Spoke too soon." The old woman muttered.

Anne looked outside. "Pop isn't going to be out for too much longer, is he?" She asked anxiously. "He's too old to be gallivanting around in a storm like this."

The old woman grinned. "Sure. Hell if I know when he'll be back. He still thinks the man has to provide everything, although I've tried for years to break him of that." She sighed. "Some men just can't be taught." Anne smiled again, relaxing a little.

Lon tossed a ball up in the air and caught it. "There's nothing to do. I'm bored." He complained.

"You're not the only one." Liz muttered from her spot on the couch.

Anne glanced over at them and sighed, looking to her grandmother for support. "Hey, Gran, why don't you tell us a story?"

The old woman, still limber in her old age, glanced up from the hearth where she was making a fire. "A story, hmm?" Getting back into her chair, the old woman thought about what to do and what to say.

Liz groaned. "This should be entertaining." She muttered.

Anne glared at her daughter. "Would you rather sit in darkness?" Liz merely scowled and looked away.

The old woman pursed her lips. "A story, hmm?" She repeated. Suddenly a mischievous smile crossed her face. "Alright, I've got one for you that is sure to impress all ears." She shifted in her chair. "Now, all of you pay attention, because I'm only gonna tell this once. Matter of fact, I don't think even you heard this, Anne, save for bits and pieces."

This caught Anne's attention, and made her furrow her brow. "Really?"

The old woman chewed on her lip. "Where to begin…"

"Well…the beginning's as good a place as any, I suppose." She continued. "It all starts with a couple. Mister Alfonse DeMarco from Little Italy, New York, and Miss Elise Ryan from Ireland."

"Like most couples, they met and married, and had children. The eldest was a boy named Michael; the next was a daughter named Andrianne, then a son named Noah, and last, a girl named Jesilyn. The following story is about the oldest daughter, Andrianne."

"In New York, there are a lot of gangs and there's a lot of organized crime. You know, just a bunch of fellahs who came over and now think that they're hot stuff. Well, anyway, Andrianne's parents were conned into getting a favor from these goons. A favor they didn't really want, mind you. It doesn't matter what it was, because all you need to know is that once they do you a favor, you have better pay them back, twofold."

"Unfortunately, Andrianne's parents were not very well off, and couldn't afford to pay off the gang. Around the time that Andrianne was three, her life started to go downhill."

August 12, 1886

The door almost burst off its hinges with the force of the fist on the other side. The pounding had been going on for over a half hour, yet the family inside knew that if they answered and admitted this particular visitor, they wouldn't see dawn.

"Put them in the bedroom! He'll see them there!" Alfonse hissed to his wife. "Hurry! They'll bust down the door at any minute!"

"Come on, honey." Elise tried to coax Andrianne from under the table. "We'll play a game of hide and seek, but you've got to hide really well, now, or they'll find you."

Andrianne shook her head and remained underneath the table, clinging to the leg. Even as a toddler, she knew something wasn't right. The door shook again. "Monster!" She cried, clinging tighter to the table leg.

Michael tried to pull at his sister. "Don't be stupid!" He muttered. "Come on!"

Then it was too late. The door was knocked in, and all Andrianne could see was the light turned out, and what looked like her parents and siblings settling down for a nap. It sounded like thunder in her home, and Andrianne hated storms.

She closed her eyes and waited for it to stop. !!

!! "Wait...her family died?" Lon asked, his mouth agape. "No way! She was like a little kid!"

The old woman nodded. "That's true, but whoever shot them didn't care if they were children or how young the family was. All they knew was money. If the entire family was killed off, then there wouldn't be any witnesses, and they wouldn't have to worry about it later."

"But they didn't kill them all off, did they?" Lon nodded at his logic. "Because the little girl lived."

The old woman grinned. "That's right. It'd be a pretty short story otherwise, wouldn't it?"

"So what happened next?" Liz blurted before she could stop herself. The old woman raised a brow.

"So you're interested, hmm?"

Liz looked away. "I mean…I might as well know everything if I'm going to be forced to listen to this." She muttered. The old woman shook her head with a knowing smile and continued.

"It didn't take long for the police and the press to find out about this, but of course, that type of killing was old news. It happened all the time supposedly. So when they found the little girl huddled under the table crying for her mother, they did the only thing they could do." !!

"They send her straight to an orphanage."

Andrianne didn't like this policeman. She understands that was what he was, because her father had taught her to identify people by uniforms and outfits. This policeman smelled funny, and his hands were really rough and they held her little hand too tightly, as if afraid that she might run off.

She might have been only three years old, but she wasn't stupid. And she was thinking highly of slipping through his grasp and making a run for it.

The woman who stood in front of her wasn't much better in the smell category. She reminded Andrianne of the evil stepmother her own mother told her about in one of her fairy tales.

Where is momma?

"Look, in a year or so she can work at the mill, and you won't have to worry about supporting her. Just let her stay here and maybe some poor soul will pick her up." The policeman said to the woman.

The woman, known as Ms. Lanning because no man had had the courage to marry her, sniffed her unusually long nose. "I suppose. But only if she'll work in the mill. I can't have anyone not doing their share of the work."

The policeman rolled his eyes visibly. "Sure, sure, whatever you say. Just take her so I can get on with my life, okay?" After handing Andrianne over, he shoved his hands in his pockets with a few curses under his breath and walked away.

Ms. Lanning looked down at Andrianne with beady eyes. For some reason now, Andrianne thought of a bird. A mean bird, perhaps.

"I suppose you'll want food, too." She rasped. "Come along then. You'll need to wash up first. I can't have you smelling up the place."

!!How's that for my first installment? I think I have something, ladies and gents. Please review! I'll love you even more!!