Disclaimer: I own nothing "Once Upon a Time" Only Chanda.

Enjoy!

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Once Lost

God how the world kept turning. Storybrooke still filled with the poor victims of the evil queen's curse. I should know I'm one of them. My names Chanda Keller, and yes I remember everything before the curse. How? Well, that's a faerie secret. Before all this started I was your average everyday faerie, well as average as faerie's get. I wasn't teeny- weenie like some of the others, I was a bit more average. Well maybe only 4'9 average. I had the wings of a butterfly, ahaha a really big butterfly, and I was blessed with knock back spells and minor magic abilities unlike other faeries. For a while, Rumplestiltskin was an interest, and no not the love kind. He and his son were interesting people to follow; they had little to no money, but were always kind enough to share what they had.

But then, things changed. Rumple made a deal, and got some mean powers. His son left, leaving him to his lonely cruelty. I know I'm talking about him a lot, but there is a method to my madness. Rumple became twice as evil as you know, but then he took prisoner a pretty young lady, named Belle. I was forced to see from afar by then haha, he didn't like my teasing all that much. But after he forced her to leave, and the queen came. I felt something amiss. At first it was only a twinge that what she had told Rumple was a lie. This is where the story really starts.

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Open P.O.V.

Memories would flash before her making her bury her face in her hands. The meds would make it all go away soon. She would tell herself. A metal screech made her look up through her hair. A pair of dark eyes watched her gleefully. That woman came almost every day, never giving her any rest. Dear God why didn't she just go away! In her mind's eye a flash of white crossed her vision as the sound of porcelain crashed. She buried her face deeper.

'Someone save me.' She begged desperately. Above ground walking in the broad daylight Chanda Keller walked freely, wishing just as badly as that poor girl was for a way to help her friend in need.

/

Chanda

Poor Goldie's been a bit bitchy lately. He holds his liquor just fine, but something's been abrew since he'd been caught beating on old man Moe. Yes he was little princess Belle's daddy dearest, and yes what her royal bitchiness had told him about Belle going AWOL and jumping from that godforsaken tower had been a bit of a sting, but he usually was more of a gamer than that. He really let the queen get to him. Something's been simmering in the pit of my stomach since she let him onto that. She was lying that was for damned sure. I wanted to get to the bottom of this stupid romantic crisis! The hospital loomed shadowing me from the daylight. I hated hospitals; they smelled like death and tears. I walked farther into Storybrooke, past shops and cafés coming near the sheriff's station where Emma waved out the window at me. I smiled waving like a madwoman. I could hear her laughing through the open window.

I turned down an alley going behind the station that led to a small pub. Gold sat near the window drinking tea. Who the hell went to a pub to order tea? Well Gold of course, weirdo. I laughed at myself. You may ask yourself, why would a faerie, a creature of utmost destruction want to help a dark being like Rumplestiltskin? Well for one thing not all faeries are evil, and for another I heavily believe in happy endings. Yes an immortal faerie that is a hopeless romantic haha. A bell tinkled as I pushed the door open. Gold looked up from the book on the table and locked eyes with me. The face he made was priceless; it was just as loud as a groan! ( :D ) I sat across from him in the booth and a woman came and took my order, I love whiskey.

"So, Ritchey Mick Bitchy, what's crawled up your ass and died this week?" I asked playfully. Mr. Gold sipped his tea and pretended to read on.

"Not really your concern now, is it lass?" he said glumly, I giggled; I was really bad about accents. I loved them, but I also loved to laugh at them. He looked back up at me raising an eyebrow.

"Sorry," I choked out, "Anyway, what's her imperial viciousness been up to? She killed anyone of interest?" He shook his head sighing, even if she did we couldn't get her blamed and gutted like we wanted her to be. I crossed my arms and lay them on the table and lay my head on them. I puffed out air.

"I have, kind of a personal question, but first, you still remember me from before?" He sighed in annoyance.

"Yes, after the twentieth time of asking yes I still remember you child. What makes you think I'm going to forget?" I shrugged,

"You never know, the spell may create a lapse that could go off even after it takes effect causing all that remembered through magic means to forget." He snapped the book shut, and stood up just as the lady brought me my shot.

"Trust me when I say, that I will never forget." He left slamming the door behind him. I watched out the window as he went down the alley and waited till he turned the corner before downing the shot and jumping up, bounding to the bar.

"Lowell!" I yelled feeling the fire of the alcohol work its way down. Bashing followed in the back, and a man with a receding hairline came lumbering out.

"Don't shout!" he whispered tentatively. I winced.

"Sorry, tough night?" He nodded. Lowell McQueery was the number one source of hidden info, and the number one place Goldie locks wouldn't look. I sat on a barstool, and told Lowell my story, though…edited.

"See, I got this cousin that came to visit a month back, and she went missing. The Mayor dubbed it as runaway/suicide, but you know that's not what happened." Lowell nodded and pulled a thick red book from under the bar.

"Name?" I thought for a moment, remembering the counterparts of the citizens, and thought of as many words with went with the name as possible settling with the one that was most human.

"Carillon Keller." Remember she's supposed to be my cousin (wink wink). Lowell stopped flipping and looked at me strangely. He got all his info from the Mayor's secretary. She happened to have a thing for middle aged married men with beer bellies and a receding hairline. He leaned over the counter closing the book to lean on it.

"Don't know her." He said straight faced. I gestured to the book.

"Are you sure? Can't you check it please?" He shook his head slowly.

"Don't know her." He stated simply. I clenched my hands into fists, up until that moment I had been whispering, but maybe…

"Look Chanda, you don't know what you're getting your ass into with this." Lowell had no memory of before, but he knew every single person in Storybrooke, even the ones that weren't meant to be known.

"Go home." He said. I shook my head smiling manically.

"I'M SORRY!" I shouted, "YOU SAID THAT YOU HAD A ROUGH NIGHT LAST NIGHT? HOW RUDE OF ME, I'LL GO HOME AS SOON AS MY TRAIN COMES IN." He was almost doubled over covering his ears groaning.

"Stop…"

"I'M SOOOO SORRRY, I JUST SEEM TO BE HAVING A HARD TIME *BAM!* HEARING!" I had slammed my fists against the countertop making the thick red book shudder.

"Alright, alright, uncle!" He cried desperately holding his hands up. He clawed his way back up and leaned against the counter. He didn't touch the book.

"She's a special case in the psyche ward at the hospital. Good luck getting in though, they don't allow visitors. The Mayor has a special code to get in. Mary (secretary) can get it for you, but you have to get past the desk bitch and the guards to get her out." I nodded my thanks, and jumped down letting the door slam behind me as I walked out. I reveled in Lowell's agony. Okay yeah kinda bitchy of me, but hey again, I'm a faerie member? Lowell would have Mary send me the code through my phone and I could get in through that, but I needed some backstory to get in. I came around the front of the Sheriff's station and I waved again at Emma as I walked by. At almost a half a blocka away it hit me, and I almost fell over running back to the station. My backstory came in blonde and leather!

/

Open P.O.V.

The tray of grey mush slid through the door, but didn't slide into eager hands. It merely hit the stone floor with a clang going wasted like all the others. Carillon held her head, the pain slowly subsiding. This is how it always was, the painful schizo flashes, and then the meds kicked in, and goodbye pretty little fantasy. Her little reality held a hell of screaming, crying mental patients, and inedible food. The poor girl couldn't help but think about how long it would be before the nightmare would end, or was it just beginning?

'What did I do to be here? Am I really crazy?' her sobs echoed with the others, creating a symphony of pain that the Queen almost no one could remember languished in it.

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Hoped you liked it! REVIEW! Hahah I named her Carillon because when I looked up counterparts this was a pretty on I found, and the def is a stationary organ that makes chiming sounds that is compared to angels song.