A/N: Hi, this chapter is called chapter 0 for 3 reasons: 1.) It is sort of a prologue, but at the same time, it's a chapter, so chapter 1 didn't seem appropriate. 2.) I really couldn't do without this chapter, but I wanted to do 13 chaps in total, and I couldn't really smush two chapters together, so: Chapter 0. 3.) Chapter 0 just sounded cool. Go figure.

Chapter 0: Every Story has Its Beginnings

A thirty-year old Olivia sits in front of the camera, looking guiltily into its lens. She had just made sure no children were in sight when she recorded.

She clears her throat, in an attempt to stall it, but there is nothing much to do except for this. "Hello." She starts, unable to think of any other way to begin the video. "Twelve years ago, I was invited to what was known during that time, as the Old Gregory Manor. Now it is known as Boddy Manor. There, six people were murdered. This is what happened."

When Olivia Nicole Scarlet was twelve, she and Peter Lloyd Plum knew each other well. Her parents and his mother worked in the same law firm. The two often talked while their parents were going over what they called, "adult things." Whatever that meant, they didn't mind, for it sounded boring to the minds of twelve year olds.

Olivia Scarlet was a beauty, alright. Of course, Peter never noticed it since he was still in his preteen years. She had green eyes, like her mother. Although, other than that, she barely looked like her. She didn't look like her father either. But she was still pretty nonetheless, with her below the shoulder blade brown hair and her pale as porcelain skin. She was shorter than her female peers by one inch, but that never bothered her one bit.

Peter was average looking for boys his age. Almost everyone in his grade was as tall as he was and he had the same brown hair everyone else had. He had plain brown eyes too, and they hid behind glass lenses. He stood out, however, with the articles he wrote for his junior high school's newspaper.

They were the best of friends. At least until they were twelve.

Olivia smiled as Peter fumbled onto the garden swing in the Plums' backyard. "This time I didn't land square on my butt." He jokes, struggling to secure himself while sitting. "My mom's in there, talking about my dad again."

Peter's father left before his seventh birthday. He speculated that his father was somewhere in Alaska or Hawaii, since there was no possible way he was in the 48 contiguous state and not come back once for his son.

Letting a hand rest on her friend's back, Olivia comforted him. "Your father wouldn't leave such a great guy like you, Peter." There's a calm silence filling the air as the swing rocked gently, back and forth.

Now, again, Peter was oblivious to the fact that a girl liked him, so there wasn't any awkwardness present around that time for the boy.

Instead of dwelling on his father, Peter immediately changed the subject to Olivia's parents, who have been fighting a war within the Scarlet household, a war their daughter has chosen to ignore as if her family was still happy. "Is your dad really going to make you move?"

She tensed up when she heard this subject. "Erm, he hasn't told me yet. But whatever his decision is, I'll have to go along." A disappointed look came upon Peter's face as she gave her answer. She quickly caught it and tried to save his hope. "Plumdog, you know I'd never leave you, right?"

"If you move, you will never forget me right?" Olivia stopped the swing with her feet and turned away. "Of course."

A simple lie tore the two friends apart, as Olivia's father did force them to move, an action that involved violence against both her mother and Olivia herself.

One day, when Peter was sixteen, he looked at the then barely used garden swing and muttered under his breath, "of course."

Patiently reading her most recent purchase from the bookstore while waiting for the doctor to see her again was Elizabeth Josephine Peacock, age 11. She was younger than all her classmates, but taller than most. Her reason for the doctor's visit? She had hurt herself once more playing with her cousins. "Elizabeth, please. You have to stop with that Quilting stuff this instant. This is the third time you have bruised and/or broken something." That something was her nose.

"Mother," she said, sounding a bit nasally as she tried to speak through the pain. "It's Quidditch. Ow! And it's not rare to get hurt in Quidditch. I thought you'd like Harry Potter, since you're British and all."

Mrs. Peacock looked at her with her piercing blue eyes and went right into her "uptight mother" mode. "Elizabeth Josephine Peacock, you will stop that nonsense. Okay? Aunt Fanny will go berserk if you get Alana hurt. And not to mention your father's sister. She'll probably sue us if Nathan gets a tiny scratch! Don't tell your father I said that. Seriously though, that woman is all types of crazy. What parent names their child Nathan Matthew?

She made a zipping motion with her hands as she went back to reading her book. "It was Lana's fault, mom. Ow! She's a horrible snitch. Ow! And Nathan— ow! — wasn't that great a Keeper either."

"Hush now, no more excuses." Her mother snapped, surprisingly in a very lady-like sort of way. "Why couldn't you be more like the other girls in your class?" Elizabeth rolled her eyes at her mother's stupidity. "Vivienne's girl, Olivia, she's wonderfully mannered. As well as she doesn't waste her time with petty books that advertise the use of witchcraft! I should have never let your father buy those books for you. Well, it was either that or let him dress you up as one of those Space Battles things."

"Star Wars, mother? Because to be honest, I think the outcome would have been far better than Quidditch. At least I nor anyone else for that matter, will have to jump off the trampoline in order to fly."

"Elizabeth, it is anyone else nor I." Her mother corrected sternly, "Honestly dear, if you will be raised in the Americas, you will at least have the English of an Englishwoman. And remember centre is spelled how?

Despite her best efforts to maintain an English household, Mrs. Peacock has yet to hear her only daughter claim she wants to be British. "C-E-N-" Elizabeth stopped and thought for a moment, but quickly said "T-R-E."

"Very good. At least you know how to spell it, unlike Alana. Fanny may be my sister, but she is teaching her daughter all the wrong things."

"Hypocrite," Elizabeth muttered under her breath, begrudgingly returning to her book, once again annoyed by mother dear.

Alexandria Taylor Azure wasn't what you called pretty. Her black hair would never agree with her in every style she chose, so she let it down, not even bothering to put her mop of hair together. She wore braces, and she absolutely hated those. She was short, shorter than Olivia even. And all in all, she was a geek plagued by her OCD and constant need for perfection, trapped in an obsessive-compulsive person's nightmare body.

"Mary, Nate, what am I going to do?" She sobbed as she leaned her head against Mary Isabelle Peach's shoulder and let her hand get squeezed by Nathan Smalt. "My parents' divorce court is tomorrow. I don't want to end up with my mom! Dad's moving to the NYC after every thing's settled."

Nathan, taking the role of "guy best friend", hugged her, her hair getting into his face. "I'd hate to sound rude, but wouldn't you miss us?"

"Yeah!" Mary piped in, "aren't we your best friends?" In Alexandria's book, Mary had the role of "moral support." She was perfect for the role, with her strange energy and her way with encouraging words, even to the point where she writes for the Brookside Middle Buzz about how amazing the students are.

Alexandria smiled sadly and laughed, the kind of laugh that you give out when you remember something funny, but are saddened by the memory, no matter how funny it was. "I'll only miss you guys if I go to New York. The rest of this lame town can stuff it."

The other two laughed at her words. The town was lame. If you have heard of Brookville, chances are you are related to someone who lives there, or you do live there. And if you did live in Brookville, you probably were born there, had given up on your dreams, or sometimes a combination of the two.

"If I end up with my mom, I think I'll throw up."

"What do you mean you don't want me?" Alexandria yelled at her father, who was backing up his car from the driveway.

Mr. Azure had said openly to the court that he was willing to give up his daughter to her mother, and that deeply offended Alexandria.

"Sorry, Alexandria, NYC just isn't made for dads and daughters. This made it easier for your mother anyway." The Azures have been broken. And it was all Alexandria's fault.

"Alexandria, I understand you're upset with your father, and as am I, however, you cannot miss school young lady." The now Miss White, formerly Mrs. Azure, knocked on her door, persistent to get her young obsessive compulsive daughter out of her room, and to school. "Alexa—"

Her knocking ceased as the door swung open, almost hitting Ms. White square on the jaw. Alexandria was in only her pajamas, and looked like she had no intent of leaving the house. "Mom, I want to take your name." She said through her runny nose, sounding more like "Ma, Ah Wah Ta Tay Yo Nay."

"Of course you can sweetheart. You'll be Alexandria Taylor White."

"Noh, Ah wah ta yoos yo middah nay!" Translation: No, I want to use your middle name! After being handed a tissue and being able to clear her nostrils of any snot, Alexandria was able to speak normally. "Dad named me after his mom, who's dead. I want to take your middle name, Alexa. I want to be homeschooled for the rest of the school year, and then you can ship me back with the freaks and fakes of Brookside Middle School."

Pity overwhelmed Miss White, and she did what every stupid mother would do: give into every whim of her daughter.

Jason Bernard Mustard smiled and winked at the small area where his fan club was before he began to play football.

First it started off as a joke. His fan club originally comprised of two girls who had a creepy obsession with the Brookside Middle Football Quarterback, until a teammate laughed and said the girls could make up a fan club; that they did.

Now, a whopping thirty six girls participate in Mustard related activities. More girls seek admission into it. Out of all the girls who attended Brookside Middle School, there were only ten avoided the screaming hoards of fangirls.

One of those girls was Elizabeth Peacock. She completely despised him. "I don't understand what he has going on. He's a dumb blonde." She muttered as a splattering of Mustard fangirls walked past towards her to their usual spot. "This is why I hate Phys. Ed. Not the work, not the pain, but the girls fawning over a brainless barbarian." As she sat down on the bleachers, fully aware that the teachers wouldn't care since they'd rather watch the amazing Jason Mustard throw a ball around, Elizabeth continued her muttering as Jason threw the ball towards a fellow teammate who was near where she had decided to mumble. With a simple miscalculation, she was hit square in the stomach, like a sucker punch to the gut.

"Why does Peacock-a-doodle-dork get to sit?!" Sierra Brown, one of the leaders/founding members of the Mustard fan club screamed at Coach Bloodlust. "She's being lazy and hogging the ball." Coach Bloodlust turned to the bleachers, and though many kids sat there, only Elizabeth got scolded. "Peacock, five laps around the track in fifteen minutes!"

With jaw opened widely in disbelief, Elizabeth's flame of anger burned brighter. "Stupid American school system!" She cried out as she threw the ball straight for Sierra, hitting her face dead on.

For a moment, she was proud. She had stood up for herself, and now she had hurt the girl she loathed. But only for a moment. "Peacock, to the office, NOW!" Coach Bloodlust screamed at her as two of Sierra's friends started panicking, squealing at the sight of the girl's blood forming a flowing stream from her nose down to her chin. "Mustard, escort the girl to the office. I'll inform the principal, you're taking her up."

"Sure thing coach." Jason said, smiling cockily at Elizabeth. "Come on Prisoner."

As they walked down the off-white hallways of Brookside Middle School, Elizabeth only had one thing in her mind as Jason proudly escorted her: "I hate this day."

Jason, who was enjoying himself, smiled and winked at every girl that was roaming the halls during that time. "Hey Cammie, looking f— " He was about to greet Cameron-Morgan, who was tightly holding her inhaler to her chest as the boy merely walked by, when Elizabeth interrupted.

With murder in her eyes, the young red head stepped in front of Jason and said. "Can you not?" She turned around to snarl at Cammie, who in turn sucked in from her inhaler and began to run the opposite direction. "Can you not try to flirt with every moving thing you see? Just take me to see the principal."

"I have your back, Peahen." He smiled as he stopped her from turning around. "Tell me, why American School System, aren't you American? You're basically calling yourself stupid."

"Shut up, Jason." She muttered as she continued walking to the office.

"You won't hate me after this, Peacock." He smiled, as he opened the door to the office, hearing a very distinct voice arguing with Mr. Black, father of Cammie-Morgan.

"Why can't there be a Christian club? My mother is more than willing to host it. She and Mrs. Teal! Miss Rojo can probably help as well!" Jonathan Green argued with the principal. It was his misfortune that the man he was arguing with, was Jewish, therefore not a big fan of Christianity.

Mr. Black's secretary, Miss Rojo, sat at her desk, playing with a bitten Golden Delicious that was obviously hers (as she did where the exact same shade of red lipstick that was left on the apple skin. At that moment, Jason coughed and she immediately stopped playing with the fruit and looked towards the door to see him smiling cockily and Elizabeth standing back with what seemed to be a permanent scowl on her face.

"How's my favorite cousin?" Miss Rojo greeted them. "And is this the girl Bloodlust called about?"

Jason laughed and pulled Elizabeth from behind him to make sure his cousin got a good look at his "prisoner." "Wendy, this is Lizzie. She called the American Public School System stupid."

Wendy smiled at the girl, and said, "I know your mom, Peacock. She complains about how /the people of Great Britain are so very much antagonized by American history that it is often forgotten that we were the ones who made America what it is today!"/ Despite how horrible her British accent was, Wendy quoted the crazed woman's complaint in verbatim. "So you agree?"

Elizabeth stepped back. Apparently her mother had been making phone calls to the school. Maybe that was why Mr. Gray wasn't fond of her.

"As long as Bloodlust teaches, I agree."

The older girl let out a chuckle, and turned her attention towards Jason. "Gusto ko siya, Jason. Huwag mong hayaan lumayas ang magandang babae na iyan." She said in a foreign language that was too hard for Elizabeth to comprehend. It sounded like Spanish, but at the same time it had a bit of Asian flair. "Go kids, before I rat you out."

Jason pushed Elizabeth out the door quickly, and pulled her down the hall. "What was she saying?" Elizabeth wondered loudly just as he paused to breathe. "Did you understand her?"

Jason shook his head. Although, at least to the red head, he seemed to be lying, she didn't press on, as she already owed the jock big time. "She likes studying random languages. Last week, it was some Norwegian dialect, this week is Filipino. Next week she'll try her hand at German once more. That language is hard."

She laughed, and let Jason pull her to the field. Everything's coming up Peacock.

Wilbur and Andrew Boddy walked down the cemented pathway through the park. They were carbon copies of each other, save for clothing and personalities. Black hair. Brown eyes. Half the town had these features. But something about them made the girls fawn over them. Over Wilbur actually.

Wilbur was the more popular of the two. He was a singer, a soccer player, a member of the Brookside Middle School scholastic decathlon team, the Brookside Brainy Beavers, an all around nice guy and someone who you knew you could trust. He wore whatever outfit was needed for the day's activities. On that particular day, he had just finished soccer practice, so he had on his soccer jersey, earning an admiring stare from each girl of his age he passed.

Andrew Boddy was barely noticed by anyone. They all were in too engrossed with the amazingness that is Wilbur, that he was often overlooked since he didn't talk to anyone besides his twin brother and his younger sister, Dorothy. His outfit was simply a shirt, an aviator's jacket, and jeans. That was that. He never did like changing clothes anyway. He wasn't as popular as his brother, nor did he attend any of the activities his brother had joined. But his mind was often full of genius and wonder, making up one incredible idea after the other. It was often riddled with contraptions that could better one's life and perhaps ease the pain of most, if not all, jobs.

Other than that, the boys were as identical as they could be.

At the park was also Cosette Noir, a girl from their school who in both of the brother's opinions, was the most beautiful girl in the whole 7th grade. She was an athletic girl, being in track, and often wore her iPod on a band that went around her arm. She was in front of the park's pond when the two boys saw her from across the field, alternating jogging in place, jumping jacks, and toe reaching.

The twins shared a look, and with that they were speeding across the field, racing towards the blonde girl who was too busy to notice them.

Andrew ran quicker, his legs extending farther. Wilbur, despite being the soccer star, couldn't quite keep up with his brother, who was younger by twenty minutes. Then came the first obstacle: Olivia Scarlet.

She had front hand-sprung in front of Andrew, blocking his way letting Wilbur catch up a bit. With a harsh shove, Olivia went tumbling down, and stared confused as Wilbur and Andrew continued running

Then, Elizabeth came in "flying" on her Nimbus 2000, throwing a "bludger" at Andrew, aiming for her cousin, who was fairly far from where the younger boy stood. He fell to the ground with a thud and threw the dodgeball angrily at Elizabeth. With this little skirmish, Wilbur was already almost to his brother, so Andrew stood up and continued to run.

He smiled, he was almost halfway to Colette.

Suddenly, he felt the small weight of a girl topple towards him, causing him to fall to the ground once more. "Watch where you're going!" She yelled wiping any dirt that got on her white dress. Alexa White purposely brushed some dirt onto him, out of anger.

"Watch where you go!" He screamed back, once more standing up to run to the girl of his dreams.

He was so close to talking to her. So very close. But then again so was his brother.

Suddenly, a boy with a pen ran up to him, waving a piece of paper in front of him. "Mind signing this petition for a Christian Club at the Brookside Middle School?" Jonathan Green asked, pressing on by pushing the pen into his hand. He shoved the boy away, earning a glare from him. Jonathan tried to approach Wilbur, but he ran away before he could talk.

Just as both reached the girl, she was too busy with her square to notice that either boy was there. "Hey, Colette!" Someone screamed for the girl to join him on the other bench. It was Peter Plum. She turned towards his direction and ran to him, still listening to her iPod.

Now call it a stroke of faith if you will, but as she ran, a football, thrown by Jason Mustard, came hurdling towards her. "Colette, watch out!" Wilbur warned as he ran to push the girl away, effectively protecting her and catching the ball at the same time.

"Sorry guys!" An embarrassed Jason said, waving his arms to attract their attention.

But neither one noticed him. Colette took her earbuds out, something she rarely did, and smiled at Wilbur, who in turn was blushing at the attention. "Thanks for pushing me." Colette said gratefully.

"It's okay." He replied.

"You want to walk with me?"

"Okay."

Andrew watched in defeat as his brother swept another girl of her feet, and this time, the girl he truly did want. As the two figures began shrinking into the distance, Andrew began seeing red. And white. And blue and green and purple and yellow.

Two young seventh graders spent all their time and energy at the park, encouraging people to sign a petition to establish a Christian Club at their school. All they had to show for their work were a few signatures, mostly with names like: Anita Bath, and Hugh Jazz. "Jonathan, let's give up! I'm really hungry and Liv's started eating without me!" Charlotte Teal yanked the boy towards her friend, encouraging him to eat with them. "And she'll start tumbling without me, AGAIN!"

Charlotte was slightly chubbier than the average Brookville 12 year old girl, but that didn't stop her from doing gymnastics. The coaches tried to get her to lose weight, stop eating, but she refused, saying she'd rather stop gymnastics than become an anorexic athlete. Still, her chubbiness was a bit of a turn off to most boys her age.

Jonathan wasn't most boys. He has known Charlotte since they were in the womb, with their moms being friends and volunteers at the Our Lady of Perpetual Sorrow, the only Catholic church in their town. He liked that the girl wasn't going to change herself to fit the standards of society's norm. He liked that when she smiled, her dimples showed. He liked a lot of things about her, the way she laughs, how her reddish-blonde hair was always tied into a knot, when her blue eyes lit up at the sight of Chocolate and Pachito, her two chocolate labradors.

He liked Charlotte.

But he promised that he would never let himself get tempted by the beauty of the opposite gender until he was married and the beauty was his wife. And as much as his hormones wanted to steer him into the path of normal teenagehood, he kept true to his promise.

"You know what Charlotte," he began to say as he sat down on a near by bench, leaning backwards in disappointment. "I just think that the people here are not willing to let young Christians learn about their faith, and flourish alongside with their beliefs." He turned to Charlotte, and feigned distress. "Go on, Miss Teal! Leave me be for I have failed in my one task for the Lord!"

Charlotte took her clipboard from him and stuck her tongue out at him. "Drama queen." She teased, then ran to her other friend, who was enjoying a very large hamburger.

It was then when he chanced upon meeting a girl who he knew he has seen before. She had her jet black hair curled elegantly, unlike the other girls from his school, whose hairstyles were always done with no class whatsoever. To him, this girl looked like a porcelain doll, if the doll were frantically searching for something.

As soon as the sight of light orange and dark blue came into the girl's view, she quickly engulfed it in a hug. "Mary, Nate! Look at what my mom got for me." She smiled, spinning around to twirl her black skirt. The two figures looked at the girl in awe and in confusion, as if they didn't recognize her. "It's me Alexa." Leaning towards the pair, she whispered something and the looks of confusion were immediately replaced with knowing looks and nods.

Alexa? There was no Alexa in Brookside, nor in the registered parishioners of Our Lady of Perpetual Sorrow. However, she looked eerily like a girl Jonathan remembered seeing at church.

When Jonathan was eight, he went wandering around the church's concourse as his mother conversed with Mrs. Teal, who held Charlotte's hand with an iron fist, preventing her from joining him in his wander about. He walked around for a bit, and stopped by the doors leading to where the church's library was. It was there when he saw two people leaving the main hall, where mass was held, one an older man, the other, a girl about his age, or perhaps younger.

The man seemed to have a distrusting feel he gave off, sending a shiver down Jonathan's spine as he looked at the thirty-something male. He crawled deeper into the shadows of the hallways, wanting to remain unseen by the two, intrigued by what they were discussing, amazed at the girl.

The girl looked similar to the girl in the park. There were many major differences, however. Unlike the elegant curls tied with a ribbon, the one he remembers seeing had her hair down, or up, considering that her hair frizzed all over the place. And unlike the park girl's feel of arrogance and snootiness, he remembered seeing the innocence in her eyes as she listened intently to what the man she was with had to say.

"Alexandria, we will not tell your mother about going to mass, okay?" She nodded, throwing her arms around him in the same manner park girl, Alexa, had done to her friends "I love you sweetheart. I want you to keep this with you at all times." He handed her a green rosary, which she hid in her sock.

Unconsciously, Jonathan looked at Alexa's ankle, seeing a white sock covering something round like a bracelet. No, a rosary.

This couldn't be the girl he saw at church, eagerly listening to her father's every word. Alexandria and Alexa had to be two separate people.

"Have you seen that girl before?" Charlotte surprised him, handing him a neatly wrapped hamburger. "She looks familiar, but I can't put my finger on it. Anyway want to watch me and Liv do stunts? I can do a real mean scorpion." She lifted her leg with no struggle and immediately grabbed her foot to keep it up. "Or maybe a spread-eagle?" She let go of her foot and held herself up on her hands, spreading her legs into a perfect split. "Or just an ordinary split."

Before she could perform her final stunt, she was stopped by Jonathan, who pointed towards Olivia. "Methinks the lady should get to her friend before Sierra Brown does."

In a split second, Charlotte was gone again, interrupting what was going on between the two brunettes. Jonathan laughed and turned to see that Alexa and her two friends were gone.

Preview for Chapter 1:

"For the first time, I feel rejected." Olivia said sadly as she stared at the blue and white screen.

A/N: So, did you like it? Reviews, Favorites, and Follows are appreciated. Any constructive criticism. Fun fact: I cannot spell the criticism without getting a headache. The word confuses me

~ThatOtherRainbowEnd