Out of the Past

Disclaimer: As usual I must declare that I am in no way, shape, or form associated with the creators of Roswell or its affiliates.

Prologue

When I was a baby the doctors thought that I was deaf and mute. Most babies enter into the world with loud screams and much fanfare. Not me.

There could be a full blown hurricane raging outside and I wouldn't make a sound. According to my mom, my cries consisted of cute little grunts that she could barely hear. For months the doctors performed test after test and could find nothing wrong. They stated there was nothing physically wrong with me. Despite that, I still didn't utter my first words until I was six years old.

I was alone in my room one day, playing with my favorite doll. All of a sudden I felt a sharp pain in my belly but somehow I just knew that the pain wasn't coming from me. My senses were telling me that my mommy was in trouble.

I ran into the kitchen and spotted her clutching a chair with one hand and holding onto her belly with the other. "Mommy? Mommy? What's wrong? Is it the baby?"

Needless to say the importance of my first words was swept away in that moment of crisis. Mom went into premature labor. Two days we lost my little brother Marcus Alberto three days later.

My father was not allowed in the delivery room because the seriousness of my mom's pregnancy, so we sat in the waiting room. He was angry and was feeling helpless. I was curled up in his arms with my arms curled around his neck and my face was buried in his chest, unknowingly experiencing every bit of his emotions.

"Don't worry Papa, Mommy's gonna be okay. She knows you would be in there with her if you could."

He could only stare at me in confusion and wonder. I knew that he was thinking; 'When did I start talking and how could I possibly know what he was going through?' Later he just figured that I was talking out of my head and that I couldn't possible know what he had been feeling. It was only a coincidence.

Months later, they could deny it no longer. Something was off with me and they wanted know what it was. So they sent me to psychiatrist after psychiatrist trying to find out. It was the last one that I went to who finally figured it out. Dr. Alyssa Moreno discovered after a series of test that I possessed amazingly strong psychic abilities.

I could feel what others felt. I could see things that normal people couldn't see. Could get into someone's head and tell you everything about that person's deepest, innermost dreams. They did more and more test on me to see how far my abilities ran and they still don't know the full range of my capabilities. Even I don't know all that I can do.

Dr. Moreno advised my parent that it would be best to send me to school with other children that had special skills; children with astronomical IQ's and other special talents. She gave my parents a brochure for a school that was funded by the government. It was called The Hayward School for the Gifted and Exceptional.

So off to Hayward I went. I hated it. I had no friends and the other kids made fun on my sensitivity and the way that I looked. They called me an evil looking pixie and all sorts of other horrible names. The counselors and psychiatrists there made me do a lot of stupid test.

During my free time I entertained myself by writing short stories, poetry, and music lyrics. I loved to sing and for my tenth birthday my mom brought me a guitar. So I taught myself how to play.

My first few years at Hayward passed by slowly. My happiest would leave Hayward to spend time with my parents. Things changed when I turned thirteen. I went home to bask in the love of my parents only to drown in the hatred and anger that they felt towards one another.

Mom found out that dad had been having an affair with his secretary. Dad blamed my mother for a practically all of the things that went wrong in his life. Divorce was inevitable. My thoughts and feelings were never considered. My family was falling apart and I believed it to be entirely my fault.

Life without my dad was never quite the same. Mom fell into a state of depression. My grades started slipping and I withdrew deeper into myself. Guilt followed me everywhere. If only I had been a normal child then maybe daddy would have stayed.

The years passed and the guilt quickly turned to anger. How could a father abandon his child so carelessly? Where was the love he claimed he had for me? Why didn't he visit me anymore? Did he no longer consider himself to be my dad?

The questions were endless.

The summer I turned fifteen I came home to a new and energized mom. She decided that she was no longer going to mope around and pity herself any longer. She wanted to make a fresh start and to do so she needed to get away from all the memories. She decided to do what she always dreamed of started a catering business.

She found us a really great house in a city called Roswell, New Mexico. After withdrawing me from Hayward we set forth out to Roswell.

1

The dream always started out the same way.

Two little girls were playing tag in a beautiful garden. Both had golden blonde hair and shimmering blue eyes. However that oldest girl's hair fell to her waist in long waves. She was tall and slim and you could tell that she would turn into a great beauty. The youngest hair was curly and fell a little past her shoulders. Cute little dimples twinkled in each cheek. She was slightly plump but she would grow up to be lovely in her own way.

"Kitara, you can't catch me. You can't catch me.", shouted the little one as she darted from tree to tree trying to hide from her big sister. "I'm still the Orchid Princess." She climbed into one of the tallest trees to catch a glimpse of the direction from which her sister would be coming from.

Suddenly the clouds turned grey covering the sun and the once openly blue sky became a dark blur. Thunder roared loudly in the distance, traveling closer as lightening streaked sharply through the sky.

"Kitara? Kitara? Na ou es? I'm scared." The little girl began to cry in earnest. She couldn't see her sister anywhere.

Kitara jumped over a large branch that had fallen in her path. She was nearing the tree where her sister was holding on for dear life. "Kitara I'm scared. Please come get me."

"I'm coming Kitessa. Hold on. Don't let go." Before she could get any closer to the tree, a sharp bolt of lightening slammed to the ground causing a huge wall of fire to separate the two girls.

Through the fire Kitara watched in growing horror as an unknown man climbed up the tree and took Kitessa into his arms. She screamed her sister's name over and over again.

"Kitessa! Kitessa! Na ou es?"

She tried to fight off the strong arms that were shaking her. "Izzy! Izzy wake up. It's just a bad dream."

Isabel Evans sat up quickly and wrapped her arms around her brother's neck. "Oh Max, it was horrible."

Max held her close and slowly stroked her back. "It was just a dream Izzy. Nothing can harm you now."

"I know Max but it felt so real."

"Do you want your big brother to stay with you until you go back to sleep?"

She gave him small smile. "Big brother? Have you forgotten that I'm the oldest?"

"How can you be so sure?" he asked with a smirk. "We don't know anything about our past. For all you know you might be the youngest and I might be the king of some distant planet."

She rolled her eyes and just laughed. "Yeah? Well I'll believe that when I see it."

He tucked her in and kissed her goodnight. "Get some sleep. You'll forget all about the dream tomorrow."

"Kay. G'night Max."

"G'night, Izzy. Sweet dreams."

In another part of town and also in another city, two other young girls woke up at the same time as Isabel. They were drenched in sweat and the same name fell from both their lips.

"Kitara."

tbc