Childhood is not from birth to a certain age and at a certain age,

The child is grown and puts away childish things.

Childhood is the kingdom where nobody dies.

Edna St. Vincent Millay

Chapter 1

My Life is Complicated and I do not fully understand the complex anatomy by which it lives nor conceive the point, however I still breath and in my path destruction thus follows without hindrance or assistance. This is my story from the beginning, devoid now, of the lies once told, now we must all bare the truth and reality once lived, now past.

My appearance is no more than average. I have long blond hair, the ends floating just above my hip. Misty blue eyes and although I am short, I have a slender figure. When I was younger though my parents use to joke that I looked like a 'Cabbage patch doll' do they realize how insulting that is? There chubby, with squashed faces with glisteningly bright red cheeks with beady little eyes that follow you round the room - there freaky! Although when I was younger I was chubby and had a squishy face with big round cheeks, people said it was cute but all I could ever think about was roses.

Roses, they are a deep luxurious red, elegant and sophisticated, a symbol for love and devotion, even quite sexy. I wanted to be a rose. I wanted to walk without clumsiness claiming my body, I wanted to be elegant, sophisticated and sexy as hell! They behold the aspects of my life, that I perceive to be as unattainable, and in that set of circumstances I crave nothing more. But fixation on tomorrow makes it hard to move forward its like having a safety net, so you never have to be careful, a comfort zone.

It's strange though how things change so rapidly and priorities change. Material ideals seem to carry less weight when you can regain perspective. Until I was seventeen, my parents were Lillian and Alexander Swan. They were kind, caring people who were devoted and loving guardians. They owned a small bar named 'The Valliant' in the outskirts of London in a little town named Batford, forming the heart of the town where everyone congregated, from the rich, plump Mrs Wallington where she would get drunk regardless, every Sunday night and like clockwork her son Benjamin Wallington who happened to have the best hair in town thick, dark and wavy. would drive to the bar just to clean her up and escort her home; or Isabella Stevens only three years old, would parade around the bar stools singing fairy tale songs every women in the bar was hoping that the tales of magic would hold in their future.

As a child I was infatuated with fairy tales and the many princesses, and their happy endings it portrays a world beyond our own where love is ubiquitous. But as I got older, fairy tales seemed to be just a way people kept the illusion of happiness alive.

My brother Scott and I played for hours over the years, watched the many faces passing through the bar. Creating the stories of their lives through their appearance or company to pass the time as our parents worked. He was always their for me growing up, dependable, and utterly overprotective which although highly annoying, when I consider it now it sees rather endearing.

When my parents died everything changed.

The weather was wild and frantic, rain pelting down like bullets, thunder and lightening colouring the sky which was violently vivid, cutting through the clouds with ease. We were journeying to a New Years Eve function at one of my mothers old friends houses, Cindy. Cindy happened to also be the mother of my bestfriend Caroline. Caroline is the girl everyone in town wants to be. Tall, skinny with straight blond hair that she has cropped into a bob to emphasize her flawless bone structure. She is also head of the cheerleading team. Cindy and her mother happen to be very rich, her mother married into the money, now she is the most glamorous women in the town. She lived just out of town, where all the old mansions are locate; so we had to cross Willow Lake Bridge. From the age of six I had been tormented by the fear of the bridge by the misconception of a monster living under the it. But that evening, every nightmare that haunted me in the past came true and the monster destroyed every part of my life I held dear.

My Brother out enjoying New Years Eve with friends probably in a night club getting drunk or enjoying life in another free expansive way, maybe just working overtime at work, although I was too preoccupied to ask specifically. So in the car was just my parents and I. That night I was a complete bitch towards my parents, I could not understand how they could not allow me out on my own, it had been three months since my accident - I felt fine. I'm twenty one!

In the haze and chaos created by the weather, our car swerved, plunging forward, the tyres screeching, like banshees wailing in the night, as the car burst through the barriers of the bridge and into the dark ominous waters below. The force of the water engulfed the car quickly, hungrily; muting the fear and pain radiating from us as realization and understanding hit as the car was submerged mercilessly below the water and we were trapped in the confines of the old rusty car. The skies above made it hard to see anything in the utter chaos apart from the glaring head lights casting violent shadows across the waters.

Within the car I was wrestling helplessly with my seatbelt and watching in panic as my parents fought against their own restraints. The pressure of the water was overwhelming and oxygen was becoming scarce, I fought against the reflex to inhale, but overwhelming me, my body convulsed as the water flooded into my lungs like oil into the sea. When the struggle for consciousness became too much, the darkness engulfing my vision, and I could no longer hold on.

A girl watching the traumatic occurrences below, was screaming wildly for help, whilst fumbling to dial for emergency services. Her body was moving frantically, shacking her head, tears rolling down her cheeks hopelessly.

She leaning over the end of the bridge, to see clearer picture of what was happening below. Above the surface of the water an explosion breaks through, blinding everyone. When the light finally dissipated, lying on the surface of the water below was a girls body, floating, lifelessly. From what she could make out her skin was paler than anything she had ever seen before, her lips slowly turning blue.

She could hear the whale of sirens rushing towards them, and she felt a spec of hope pass through her body and a she shivered.

Scott

The phones ringing was incessant and finally I clambered across the bed to pick up the phone "Hello?" I answer questioningly.

"Man Scott, its Klaus, I got some information at work and I thought you'd wana know." he replied hesitantly.

"Spit it out man, what is the deal - you get a lead on the Charlotte Burley case?"

"No brother. Its your parents and Scarlett. Listen, nothing is clear. But my partner and I just got called out to Willow Lake Bridge for a serious car accident - the only reason I'm telling you this now...is ...because you're my best mate and Scarlett's like my sister,"

"How long ago?" I interrupt a thousand thought rushing through my head.

"We got the call almost two minutes ago..."

"Ok ," I murmur shocked, lost in my thoughts.

"It looks bad man, I'm sorry." Before he's even finished, I hang up - rushing to the car.

Once in the car, I drove like a mad man, almost demented. Although Speeding tickets and the authorities were my last priority. Jumping too red lights, the tyres screeched as I hit the breaks and pulled up by the scene which just from a observatory glance was repellent.

By the bridge now, I noticed the site had been cornered off by ambulances, police and fire engines blocking the view. I rush through the boundaries, before I get stopped by two uniform, hoping to get through quickly I flash my detectives badge, which got me through the two officers who were more like apes. I searched frantically for my parents or Scarlett; even Klaus to explain to me what the hell was going on. Then I caught sight of Scarlett's lifeless body soaked through with water, her skin pale as a ghost and lips purple. Doctors and nurses circling round her like vultures and squawking loudly.

"How is she?" I crouch by her body, my voice hesitant and full of fear. I can't loose her!

"Stand back Sir, we are doing everything we can."

I listen in desperation, for any hope of information to find out how my little sister was doing, but as soon as I processed what they were saying and I wish I could loose that memory.

"She's coding,"

"start compressions - that's it,"

"Charging three hundred, all clear,"

"Again,"

The voices had no faces, and there words slowly tore apart my insides. I watched intently as the paddles hit her chest and her body convulsed. Perhaps the saddest part of that moment was with every convulsion, it became a glimmer of hope that she was still responsive. I begin to be tormented by how vulnerable and susceptible she is to everything, I was meant to protect her. I'm her older brother - I am meant to be there for her.

But bringing me back from my contemplation of guilt, I watch stunned as suddenly her body lurches forward, and she lifts her head spitting and coughing. Irrevocable proof that she's alive...