Reflections, a misc. games fanfic

The bag they had given her to sleep on was horrid. It simply wouldn't do to sleep on, being all lumpy and wet as it was, and the girls knew that. If they hadn't, then they wouldn't have given it to her. The fact that they hadn't given her a blanket and had forced her to sleep in the filth room just enforced that belief.

It was apparent that the girls' main goal in life was to make her life miserable, that much Jennifer could gather. But why did they hate her so? What was their purpose?

That Diana…there was something terribly familiar about her. Something familiar and…wrong. She was cruel, that went without saying, but there was something more to it. She wasn't just cruel to Jennifer herself, oh no. None of the girls were safe from her attacks, which came as suddenly and surely as bolt of lightning. Not even Meg, her main confidant was safe from her barrage of hatred.

And yet…and yet she was still their leader. It was hard to tell why. Maybe it was because she was the oldest who wasn't bordering on adulthood, as Clara was. Maybe it was because Mr. Hoffman seemed to trust her the most, even though his influence seemed weak at best. Maybe…yes, this must have been it, maybe it was her beauty.

There was no denying it, no matter what your opinion of her. Diana was a rare and terrible beauty, the kind that could level nations if given time to mature and refine. She had a face that wars could and, had she not been and orphan, probably would have been started over.

Jennifer squeezed her eyes shut, half from sleep and half to keep from crying. That girl had been the cause of so much anguish for her, for her and for everyone, and yet she still basked in the adoration of her peers.

Her eyelids, though still closed, slackened. She would sleep tonight, yes. She just hoped the ropes they had bound her with wouldn't have chafed her wrists too raw by morning.

She was abruptly awoken by a kick in the stomach. Her eyes watered as she rolled slightly to see the face of her sudden assailant, and found with a mixture of dread and sad surrender that it was Diana.

"Up, you filth." She said, pacing around her slightly. "I've brought you your breakfast, so you'd better get up and eat it."

Jennifer struggled into a sitting position, her stomach still aching from the blow, and then looked back up to the face of her captor. Diana stood above her, her eyes narrowed to slits, and she began to leave.

"Please, wait!" Jennifer yelled. "My hands…I need to eat!"

Gracefully, but not without violence, Diana swung herself around. "That's why we bound them in the front, isn't it? So you could eat? You must have expected this when you were so very, very naughty Jen-I-fer." Diana was wont to draw out a name, to roll it around on her tongue and make it her plaything. Her mockery of Jennifer's name dissolved into a cruel laughter, one that would echo in Jennifer's head for a long time after the initial sounding had ceased.

Diana had never been kind, Jennifer knew that, but at one time she had at least seemed to have an agenda beyond casual acts of juvenile delinquency.

The room had been lit with dozens of candles, leading up to that bizarre altar of theirs. The girls were perched on different parts of it, with two chairs on the very top of it. On the chairs were a stuffed bear and a porcelain doll.

Meg, all argyle and pleats as usual, had begun the meeting. "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Aristocrat Club! Thank you all for coming here today."

Diana inspected Jennifer from afar, while Eleanor, shy as usual, simply clutched her birdcage. The tubby one (what was her name? Ah, yes…) Amanda, nervous for being in Diana's presence, just shook in the corner.

Diana began a slow trot in Jennifer's general direction, emanating a barely-suppressed power with every step she took. There was no question as to who was in control of the room, and it was with some worry that Jennifer realized she was kneeling.

As Diana drew nearer to her, she curtsied and Jennifer attempted to withdraw. Diana would not have that. She put her hands on the sides of Jennifer's head, halting her retreat. "You," She said simply, in an almost frighteningly matter-of-fact way, "Are a disgrace."

Then she began to throttle her, shaking her head back and forth as though she were a badly-built doll. "You're nothing, you hear me? Nothing, nothing! Worse than nothing!"

As suddenly as it had begun, the shaking stopped, and Jennifer realize with a note of surprise that her assailant's face was suddenly much closer than it had been. "Your gift?" Diana began, sliding her hands down onto Jennifer's shoulders. "Is worth NOTHING!" And then she threw her head to the ground with such force that a crack reverberated throughout the room.

Jennifer was torn out of her memories by the opening of the door. Once again, Diana stood, just looking at her. There was a tray in her hands, no doubt holding her lunch. Perhaps it was her dinner, who could say? Time passed differently in this place.

With a clatter, Diana dropped the tray to the floor. The gruel that the bowl had contained sloshed everywhere, which seemed to satisfy her greatly. "Animals eat off the floor, don't they?"

For the first time, Jennifer felt genuine contempt for the girl. As horrid as she could be to someone, she usually had the good sense to make them feel as though they deserved it. This was just uncalled for, unprecedented devilry. There was no reason for it, even by Diana's twisted logic.

"What do you have to be uppity about? You're an orphan, just like the rest of us! What makes you so-"

The last thing Jennifer remembered before losing consciousness was a sudden, uncomfortable familiarity with the toe of Diana's loafers.

Thinking back, Jennifer had only ever felt two real emotions towards Diana: fear and contempt. No, three. She vaguely remembered feeling sort for her, just once…

"What in blazes…? Just who did this? Who made this mess?" Mr. Hoffman shouted at all of them, but only Diana cried. Well, Olivia cried too, but then again she was always crying.

Diana, however, was full-out sobbing. She clutched her doll in her hands, which she had recently made into a twisted sort of mermaid. She had cut off half of a fish with a meat cleaver, and then sawed off half of her doll, and then sewed the two of them together. It all made perfect sense to her: she had wanted a mermaid so she made one for herself.

Mr. Hoffman had not agreed. There was now blood from the fish and straw from the doll all over Diana's bunk. "Was it you, Diana?" he started, rubbing her head. His hands moved down to her shoulders, massaging them slightly. "Go on, tell me!" He continued, as what had been a gentle massage quickly turned into a vice grip.

Diana just cried and held her doll.

He positioned himself in front of her, and now held her arms. "No new Mummy or Daddy will ever want you if you make a spectacle of yourself like this! Nobody wants a naughty child!"

She opened her eyes now, and, while they were still filled with tears, they managed one hell of a glare. "Now, now…" Mr. Hoffman continued his verbal assault. "It was you, wasn't it? I left you in charge, after all."

Jennifer remembered sneaking a glance over to Eleanor and Meg, and found herself glad that the two of them were grinning, if ever so slightly. So their devotion to their leader was not such that they would take the fall for her, eh?

Mr. Hoffman sighed, and tromped out of the room with an air of weariness that was not entirely appropriate. As soon as he was out of the room, Diana began violently brushing herself off with her hands, and the looked upon her people. Her eyes focused on Jennifer, then. "Oh I see! It was you!"

Savagely, she stormed her way over to Jennifer, then pushed her backwards onto the bed. "You're the one that told him, aren't you? It was YOUR fault I got into trouble!" Seething, she carried her rampage over to the fish-tank and dropped her patchwork mermaid into its depths.

Then she turned around. "Here, you clean it up. It's your fault I got caught." She then threw the rag at Jennifer, but or all of her posturing, she could not avoid it. The damage had been done.

Someone had seen the inside of the façade.

Diana stormed in with what she assumed to be her dinner. It was the third meal that day, after all.

Jennifer looked up, and through tearstained eyes and a bloody nose managed only one word. "Why?"

Diana left quietly, and took Jennifer's dinner with her.