Author's Note: Just a three shot about Jesse meeting Suze's in book one and what is going on in his head in the first three chapters of book one, so yeah, Oh and my the whole three-shot has the theme of the Three Wise Monkeys, you know, see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil, so yeah its set like that.
Um anyway hope you enjoy and I have to go back to studying for an english exam now that is on wednesday.
Bye

(The Three Wise Monkeys series, part one)

See

Set: in first chapter of book 1 Shadowlands/Love You to Death

Location: Suze's new bedroom

Characters: Jesse, Suze, Helen (Suze's mother, which I heard was her name) and Andy

Point of View: Jesse's Point of View (first person. I don't know how well I wrote him though

Status: a three-shot, so duh not finished. lol

They were back. I could hear the loud and excitable babble of several voices from downstairs, all of them desperate to impress their newest member of the family. The newest member being a sixteen year old girl… I've had five younger sisters… I wish this family good luck.

It wasn't long before the loudest excitable slash most nervous voice was right outside my room's door or correction the newcomer's new room.

I knew well enough that I should have vacated this room long before the family had returned home with the girl, telling myself that I would see her soon enough in any of the other rooms within this house to satisfy my curiosity of what sort of daughter Helen Simon or now correctly the new Mrs Ackeman would have. My thoughts were that the girl would be almost a perfect likeness to her mother, just a younger version. Well read and behaved, with a clean but pretty appearance, rule abiding child.

But then, if that were true why did Helen sound so nervous?

The door open and Helen and her new husband, Andy Ackeman father of three sons, only one of which I feel that could truly connect with. The youngest shared a similar taste in books as me, valuing intelligence over muscle, and with the two older brothers' that the boy has, I have come to admire his continued determination to use his intellect instead falling under the pressure that his brother's, especially the middle brother placed upon him to be more like him.

In all the time that I have known Helen, which is not very long, I had never seen her so nervous, wring her hands and looking extremely anxious. Now, I know that young girls can be picky about anything that is orientated around them (sometimes they can be picky with things that have nothing to do with them, too) but was this girl so picky as to be able to send her Mother into nervous wreck? Was she… my thoughts trailed away as she slowly entered the room.

Now this was a girl that I had not been expecting to be the daughter of renowned News Reporter Helen Ackeman, the last thing I was expecting to be her child. Obviously photographs lied about ones true nature. My mind started to form countless fights that Mother and Daughter must have had to have got daughter into those frocks that I had seen this girl in over the years in photographs.

It was the jacket and the boots that caught my attention first. The jacket was black and ridiculously too big for the girl and boots appeared to be the same. Her trousers were ripped at the knees and the way she held her body was defensive as if she thought that she was about to be attacked at any moment in time. Surely this could not be Helen's daughter.

I continued to watch her curiously as her mother continued to watch her fearfully as the girl slowly took in her new surroundings.

Beneath her heavy hair, that was falling frustratingly so over her face, I could note a tiny grimace forming as she took in the glass top dressing table. This annoyed me greatly as I know full well that all five of my little sisters would have all begged our father to purchase one of those dressing tables for them. But not this girl…

Everything in the room, she seemed to disagree with, her little grimace seemed to grow deeper. Even under her heavy hair, I could see the despair in her face which just caused me greater annoyance. Did this girl have any idea of how much time and effort had been placed into this room, her room? Above all others in the house?

She turned slowly back to her mother and my immediate thoughts were that the girl would be voicing loud and vocal complaints of the room, but however I was wrong. The girl just smiled reassuringly at her mother (and at Andy), trying to help her relax a little from her stiff stance.

I fought down my surprise at the sudden change of facial features. How had she changed her clearly unhappy and disagreeable features to ones of happiness and content appearance? Was it because of her mother? Despite her unhappiness in her room(or her situation), was the girl still determined to put a fake front up to make everyone else think that she was happy?

I felt my face fall into what I guess is now my usual feature, a completive frown for I wished to see the full face of the girl who was so determine to keep her own emotions under close check as to not upset her mother or I guess her new family.

As if hearing my unspoken request she turned her face towards the bay window, where I was sitting watching her with ever growing curiosity that I had not felt in oh decades. Probably for not over a century at least.

Even when Andy Ackemen and his three boys had first move in had not sparked my curiosity like this young girl's arrival.

But why was she staring at the window so strangely?

Her whole face (what I could see of it under that hair) had completely frozen and what was even more odd was that, and as impossible as I know this is, but she appeared to be staring straight at me!

She turned to look at Andy, then to her mother then back to me.

She raise a hand and brushed her thick locks from her face revealing a small face drawn once more into a frown, but it was the eyes, her eyes that seemed to seal my fate. Brilliant green eyes frustrate and upset, filled with a look of desire to escape and to cry. So much sadness and despair, different from anything I had seen in those first minuted of watching her.

I noticed her mother watching her closely before she gave a heavy, sad sigh, muttering "Oh, Suze. Not again."

The hurt reflected in those green eyes from her mother's comment seemed to burn me; the sight of her defeat form now stirred something inside of me, the deep desire to protect. And I hadn't even heard her speak yet.