Neutral
Rating: PG-13/T
Genre: General
Summary: Part 3 of 4. Where has her Bird of Happiness gone?
Author's Note: I feel I should mention that this series takes place in the real world. I've been meaning to portray this little series as what really happened in the orphanage, but you may notice that some details are inconsistent.
Disclaimer: I don't own Rule of Rose. It belongs to Atlus.
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When Eleanor discovered that her bird was missing, her mind immediately jumped to Diana and Meg.
They weren't friends, the three of them. One might assume that because the three of them were constantly found in each other's company that they were bosom-buddies.
Logical, but wrong.
Diana didn't give a damn about Eleanor, or Meg for that matter. Meg was clingy and annoying, and Eleanor was too distant to form anything resembling a bond with.
Meg adored Diana, but was less- considerably less- fond of Eleanor for the same reason as her idol: Eleanor was just too far away.
Eleanor's reasons for disliking Meg and Diana were simple and straight: Meg was, again, annoying, and Diana was a manipulative, sneaky, underhanded bitch who took pleasure in watching other suffer.
They were, all three, ready and waiting to stab each other in the back when the situation presented itself.
And, apparently, the situation had.
She followed the feathers, clad only in the pale nightgown she only wore when not in her golden-brown and red dress, down to the first floor. She wondered vaguely why Miss Martha and Mr. Hoffman hadn't stumbled upon the mess and started screaming about it yet.
The scarlet trail led, so damningly, to the door of the first-floor bathroom, sliding and disappearing under the crack of the door. Eleanor had no doubt that Diana and Meg were somewhere nearby, smothering their profuse snickering as they watched their dark-haired companion follow the red-feathered road.
She didn't care.
Eleanor pushed open the door, stepped inside, looked around, and then stopped.
Standing in the middle stall was little Jennifer, a small, red, bloody item cupped with her trademark gentleness in her hands.
At first, the younger girl remained oblivious to Eleanor's presence. But inevitably, she felt those two cold, burning eyes locked onto her, and she looked up. When she saw that it was Eleanor of all people (Oh, her dreadful luck struck again!), she was horrified.
"I-I-I-I- I didn't do it! It wasn't me! Honest!"
Jennifer had been unfairly punished by Diana and Meg before, but she'd never seen Eleanor angry before, and had no idea what she might do, if anything. She knew what to expect (Maybe not specifically, but in general) with Diana and Meg.
But no.
Eleanor knew exactly who was responsible for killing her bird, and it wasn't Jennifer. The crude red crayon-etched drawing of a bird above the toilet was a pretty clear indicator.
Eleanor was cold, but true cruelty didn't come to her as naturally as it did Diana and Meg. She observed the shaking, quivering, terrified mess of an eight year-old before her and decided that punishing her unnecessarily just wasn't worth the extra effort.
She stepped forward and, with no ceremony, plucked the bird from Jennifer's hands and threw it back into its cage, slamming the tiny, brass-wired door back down reflexively.
Then she left the room.
Jennifer, uncertain, accustomed to being taunted or threatened or screamed at in situations like these, slowly followed the older girl as she trekked through the halls, up the back stairs, up to the attic.
Calm and cool as you please, Eleanor approached the box on the door in the attic, stopped, plucked the bird from its cage and dropped it into the box, coolly dropping the lid shut.
Jennifer was silent.
And confused.
But that was normal.
Watching from around the corner, Diana and Meg looked at each other and shrugged.
Eleanor pushed open the door and entered the meeting room of the Aristocrats. Diana and Meg followed after, pausing to smirk and sneer at Jennifer before disappearing inside and shutting the door.
Jennifer hadn't been punished, but this certainly didn't seem good either.
-End