Hey hey! This may not be everyone's cup of tea, but it's a story I've had rolling around in my brain for a while. Hope you enjoy :)

Chapter One

The house, having been tidied for Tom Evans' important New Year's Eve party, seemed to shine out through the darkness as the sun began to dip behind the trees. Many expensive-looking men and women were arriving, driving their expensive-looking cars down the long driveway – Mr Evans had peculiarly good contacts in the business world.

As suits and flowing dresses began to pour inside, Gabrielle, the eldest sibling and nearing her twenty-fifth birthday, was clacking around the second level in her heels, telling her sister Violet (barely two years her junior) off for her floral blouse, complaining it was 'too casual'.

Lavender, who was quickly tidying any last minute specks or spots (or rather, supervising the tidying), smiled to herself as she heard them bickering, knowing they would rather suck raw eggs than start a real fight with each other. Underneath the banter, she could hear her other daughter – the smile drooped a little – playing piano with her teacher. No doubt whatever she wore would be deemed "too casual".

Hailey, her youngest, was eighteen and seemed to steer away from what Lavender considered an ideal family image. What can you do? Lavender sighed inwardly, clicking her tongue and continuing with her work. On the lower level of the house, the rooms were wide and white, with towering ceilings and generally an expensive vase or two planted somewhere 'safely out of harm's way'. Or Hailey's way really; in Lavender's eyes they were one and the same thing. That girl had been breaking expensive things since she was a toddler.

In very little time, the guests were either seated in the parlour or smoking cigars and chatting out on the patio. Hundred dollar bottles of wine were opened, champagne was uncorked; the general tinkle of glass occurred throughout the night. Gabrielle and Violet mingled with the company, gladly accepting the remarks of how beautiful they had grown to be, while said givers of those remarks quietly mused over how – although Lavender's daughters had inherited their mother's beauty – none of them bore much resemblance to their so-called father. Sure, Gabrielle's hair had her mother's silvery blonde gleam, and Violet's eyes were the exact same shape and shade as Lavender's own, but if Gabrielle's hazel eyes and Violet's olive skin had alerted Tom Evans to any kind of infidelity, he had not expressed his concerns – at least, not publicly.

As the guests were served drinks again and again, Lavender noticed that her youngest had not yet made an appearance (not that many people were troubled by this). Squeezing into the kitchen, she checked the clock hands – her tutor should have left an hour ago. And yet no sign of Hailey appeared.

Lavender pursed her lips, glaring at the clock, straining to listen under the noisy crowd. Could she hear the piano or was she simply imagining it?

In the end, Mrs Evans decided that if Hailey had not come back by dinner then she would go and find her. But for now, why ruin a perfectly good time by worrying about all the delicate objects her interior designer had recently incorporated into their décor?

Miss Eldstein had left nearly an hour ago, leaving behind nothing but the slight smell of peanuts and rose water. Hailey had always remained curious as to how Miss Eldstein had cultivated this unique aroma. Perhaps if she had spent less time wondering this, she might have been able to learn the piano a little better.

Lavender had been right about some things: Hailey hadn't bothered to change. There's no real reason to, she thought, tugging at the shorts that her mother had informed her were "too short" (the literal point of shorts, Hailey had thought but smartly refrained from saying). Stretching her arms out high above her head, she fell onto the couch, wriggling her bare feet on the carpet and staring at the domed ceiling above her.

Parties, she understood, were supposed to be social and creative. Mother always said so. Hailey saw the social side of inviting about two million people over to the house but found the creativity lacking. Everyone just stood there and talked about money, or how beautiful her sisters were, or how they'd really liked that antique vase that had been sitting on the mantelpiece during their last visit, what had become of it? And then her mother's damning eyes would slide over to her, and Hailey would shuffle out of the room before anyone could notice the frozen smile plastered on her mother's face, fighting for dominance over the glare that could cut through glass.

Well, the parties she knew were like that.

Without really thinking about it, she glanced at the pencil on the table. Maybe… just maybe she could make it float.

The thought of her mother walking into the room and seeing her youngest daughter levitating a pencil made Hailey go cold. She could picture the blood draining from her mother's cheeks, that frozen smile pulled so wide that it rolled into a grimace –

The pencil shivered.

"Crap," Hailey murmured, and the pencil rolled a few inches along the table. Hailey shook her head sharply. "No, stop it." The pencil froze.

She was lucky no one had seen yet. They would have had her committed.

Hailey looked at the piano. Smiling almost immediately, she opened it and sat quickly on the creaky stool, playing 'You Are My Sunshine'. Though Hailey was not terribly into jazz, it was the song she'd enjoyed learning the most from Miss Eldstein.

Soon enough, someone would come in and tell her off for being here at such a splendid party, or that her clothes were too casual, or that her bangs were in her eyes. She was always doing something wrong, she thought bitterly.

She finished the simple song and nearly fell off the seat when she heard someone applaud.

Hailey squeaked a little and whipped around to face the doorway: a tall, lanky man wearing a dark suit was leaning against the frame, smiling. She was surprised she hadn't fallen off the seat yet and felt the colour rising to her cheeks.

The man gave her a knowing look as a grin rushed across his features.

"Did I scare you?"

Hailey couldn't hold back a smile; his grin was infectious. She shook her head, unsure of what he was doing here. "No," she said firmly, trying to point her chin upwards like Violet did when she won an argument, "of course not."

He laughed; it was such a sharp, clear sound that Hailey almost felt like standing up and saluting it. "Of course not," he said agreeably, and from his tone of voice she could tell that he one hundred per cent knew she was lying. But there was something else in his voice; something warm, something that suggested they were old friends joking around. "You must greet everyone with that delightful little noise you just made. Unless of course, you do, in which case I would beg you to please accept my apologies."

She was blushing – holy crap, she was blushing. That in itself was so embarrassing it made her want to blush more. It wasn't like these people to take an interest in her: in beautiful, blonde Gabrielle, in dark, sweet Violet but not in untidy, clumsy Hailey, who had been slipping inconsistently between too quiet or too loud from the age of seven. It completely caught her off guard that anyone so... neat was smiling at her.

"I didn't mean to bother you," she said hastily, standing up.

"You didn't," said the stranger, amused.

"You don't have to be polite," Hailey said simply. "I'll go – it'll be like I was never even here."

"Well, I certainly don't want that," said the stranger. "Come on – you wouldn't leave me alone with these people, would you?"

The words aren't you one of them died on her lips. His eyes positively danced with amusement as he smiled at her, as if they were sharing some private joke. She dug her toes into the carpet, feeling her stomach dance a little. Whoever this man was, he was not one of them.

She suddenly wished her shorts weren't so short and resisted the urge to tug at them. Almost as if he could hear her thoughts, she saw him glance appraisingly at her legs. Now she was definitely blushing.

Hailey immediately tried to start a staring contest with her toes when her father walked in, a smile plastered on his features. She couldn't remember ever feeling so relieved to see her father.

Then Thomas Evans caught sight of his youngest daughter and the smile he had so kindly (but phonily) given his guest was wiped from his face. His lips stretched into a thin line. Hailey let her eyes widen innocently.

"What are you wearing?" her father snapped, his charming (but, upon closer inspection, not as young as Hailey had thought) companion and composed demeanour forgotten.

'Um. Shorts.' Hailey pulled at her sleeveless blouse awkwardly. "And a shirt. The usual assortment of clothes?" she added, purposely making her father glare.

"When I was your age, I wouldn't have dared to speak to my elders like that," Thomas Evans said coldly. "But these days –"

"These days, humanity has evolved, like it's always done, and in order to do that, sadly, the world as you and I once knew it lies behind us," said the other man coolly and Hailey saw her father's eyes dart back to his guest and possible business partner. She thought she saw a tiny spark of fear in her father's eyes and wondered exactly how much the lanky man in the doorframe was worth, or just what he was capable of.

"Forgive me, Sebastian, but my daughter sometimes forgets her manners," Tom ground out, keeping his eyes firmly on Sebastian.

"Sorry, Father. I was just being progressive," Hailey said before she could stop herself; she looked back at the piano when two faces turned toward her, one bitter, the other amused.

"Sebastian," said her father after some hesitation, "my… daughter, Hailey. Hailey, meet Sebastian Shaw."

Hailey raised a hand in fellow acknowledgement. "Nice to meet you."

"Hailey," her father bore down, chuckling lightly to dilute the anger in his posture. "Sebastian didn't come here for you to waste his time."

She saw it then, in the stranger's face, in the set of his shoulders, in the lines around his mouth: rampant dislike (for her father?) and that thrilled her for a moment. But then it was gone and Sebastian, catching her eyes with that amusement – that wondrously contagious amusement – in his own, said light-heartedly, "Now Thomas, I don't think your daughter could waste my time if she wanted to. I had no idea she was such a talented pianist," and she wanted to melt into the carpet, wanted to ignore the pleasant acrobatics her stomach was now performing. She tried to stop the corners of her lips from quirking upwards; however, she wasn't sure if she had succeeded.

"Indeed," Tom said distastefully, after a moment, as though aware there was a joke he was not in on. "Hailey, would you go upstairs and change into something that isn't – so...?" He struggled for a moment. "Progressive?"

"Sure thing, father dearest," Hailey said, rolling her eyes, leaving the room through the other doorway next to the grand piano.

"And get your hair out of your eyes," her father called, suddenly sharp after her sarcastic reply. As soon as she was out of view, she bunched up her fists and huffed.

In the next room, there was the sound of breaking glass followed by a sharp squeak.

Hailey froze. She heard her mother's fake laugh waft through the house, saying that she must have knocked a bottle over.

"Stop it, stop it, stop it," Hailey whispered to herself. So far, no one really knew why strange things happened in the house but Hailey had a feeling that her parents knew it had to do with her.

She ran up to her room, tying her long ash-brown hair back into a plait. She pulled on the first dress she found – sleeveless and with a cute button-up collar. She looked at all the shoes she had but in the end decided to simply go barefoot.

She thought of the stranger downstairs, who'd looked at her like she was worth all the time in the world. She shivered a little and secretly hoped he'd talk to her again.

Not in a weird way, she told herself casually. He's old enough to be my father.

Although things like that had never bothered her. Age. At least, it didn't bother her because she'd had no experience.

Something that lurked near the pit of her stomach suggested that maybe the stranger downstairs would be happy to teach her…

Don't think that, Hailey thought sharply and her window slammed shut with such force that she jumped. She swallowed hard, wondering why it was acting up so much tonight.

You're nervous and you're overthinking, she told herself. Please be calm. Please be normal.

She sat down on her bed, all thoughts of going downstairs banished. I'll never be normal, she thought moodily. Maybe staying in her room was all she was good for. Who needed downstairs? Certainly not her.

She had definitely been misreading the man downstairs. No one would look twice at her when there was Gabby or Violet standing next to her, so well equipped with their elegant strides and their demure smiles.

There was a knock on her door. Hailey jumped again, wondering who on earth it could be. She froze, running through the list in her mind.

No one spoke. There was no voice through the door. After a moment's hesitation, Hailey leapt to her feet and pulled the door open.

No one was there. The noise of the party reached her ears and she shook her head, closing the door again.

Hailey didn't remember feeling tired but the next thing she knew, she was lying in bed, groggily opening her eyes. She felt exhausted, as though she'd run a marathon. The lights were off, and it was still dark outside. She sighed, irritated that she had slept through the end of the party. The stranger was gone. But that was probably for the better.

She rolled over, turning on her bedside lamp.

11:55 pm.

She stared at her clock. That couldn't be right. It was a New Year's party for God's sake – how on earth could the party have completely died down before then? Hailey sat up, straining her ears. She couldn't hear a thing.

Dread rolled like a wave through her stomach. Surely the festivities should still be raging? It wouldn't make sense to stop now – or, from the silence, long before now –

The stillness was like a siren. Something was wrong. She clambered out of bed, too hasty to be silent but too scared to be loud.

The hallway was dark, and the staircase looked so far away from her bedroom door that she was sure it would take years to reach.

Little by little, she managed it, reminding herself that nothing was wrong, that she would go downstairs and realize her clock had stopped hours ago and that it was really three in the morning –

The second stair from the top had a creak. She stepped over it, telling herself it was because she did not want to wake her father.

Because everything was fine, oh yes, her clock had simply stopped, and that was why it had been so silent! She hadn't even heard ticking.

She stopped on the staircase, her body so relaxed she nearly let out a laugh. Silly Hailey. How Gabby would laugh once she heard this story.

Hailey, now smiling smugly to herself, was ready to walk back up to her bedroom when something caught her eye.

She turned back. It had to be the lighting in here – or rather, the lack thereof. There… lying in the doorway to the kitchen… it almost looked like…

Her feet barely touched the floor. She skidded to a stop in front of the kitchen entryway, staring at the long silvery blonde hair that peeked out. If she were to step further into the kitchen, perhaps Gabby would jump up and scare her, and the whole thing would be a cruel joke –

But as she stepped into the kitchen, she saw another crumpled body in the corner, this one with hair as dark as blackberries. Violet, she knew, wouldn't joke like this. Violet would be getting her beauty sleep.

There was no blood. But she knew it was true. She could see it in their open eyes, grey and lifeless.

Hailey stumbled out of the kitchen, feeling almost weightless, numb. She didn't think about shock, she didn't notice how the items around her – the couch, the plates, the grandfather clock her mother so loved – were all beginning to glide towards the ceiling.

This had to be a dream. It was so senseless, so disjointed. Look for a way to wake up.

Hailey tripped over her bare feet, her eyes wild as she searched desperately for some sign she was dreaming –

Light peered out from the doorway of the dining room. Her parents. It had to be her parents. They would know what to do –

She burst into the dining room, freezing in shock as an absolutely gorgeous woman with voluminous blonde hair sat on the dinner table, examining her nails. Hailey's gaze dropped to the floor.

Her mother and her father were lying upon it, motionless. Once again, there was no blood, no sign of physically harm, but her father's face still bore some of his horror. She couldn't see her mother's face, for it was covered by her long, silvery hair.

"You're not meant to be awake yet," said the woman carelessly, not looking up.

Hailey's legs gave out and she landed on her knees. Cracks appeared in the glass of the floor-to-ceiling wide windows that gave the dining room an excellent view of the Evans Estate, cobwebbing as though a large fat spider had drawn them. Through the windows, the moonlight and the beautiful outdoor lights Lavender Evans had spent so much time on illuminated the number of dark figures lying twisted and motionless on the lawn. She gasped for breath, convulsing as if she were about to vomit.

"My… they're…"

"Are they?" said the blonde woman caustically, and snapped her fingers. Hailey's eyes rolled back into her head and she knew no more. There was an exuberant clatter from the next room; now that Hailey was asleep, gravity could continue uninterrupted.