Disclaimer: I do not own the Sisters Grimm or The Lovely Bones. Are you happy? I'm not.
A pair of enormous pink insect wings rustled around behind a desk, and a twelve year old boy's frustrated mutterings could be heard. "Where does she keep it? In here? Maybe under the floor boards?"
The boy was named Puck, a four thousand year old fairy who looked more like he could be twelve, maybe thirteen. He lived with the Grimm family and was looking for an item of Sabrina Grimm, a twelve year old human girl he had a crush on and showed his affections to by tormenting her and making her life as miserable and hellish as humanly possible.
He began ripping up the floor, little dust specks and wood splinters flying into his eyes and making him sneeze. When a sizeable hole formed, he stuck his hand into the floor and felt around for something that could be what he was searching for.
The object he searched for so desperately was Sabrina Grimm's family journal. She'd been writing in it lately, and Puck was dying to know what was said in it. When he'd asked her about it a week ago, as she'd been scribbling away at the kitchen table, she'd slammed it shut and blushed, squeaking "Nothing!" before sprinting out of the room, mysterious book tucked under her chin.
A shimmer caught his eye, and, glancing over, he saw a little leatherbound book with gold stenciling on the cover sitting, quite clearly, on Sabrina's bedside table. Abandoning his floorboard demolition, he strode casually towards it and snatched it greedily, knocking a hairbrush off the table. Then he bolted from the room and into his own, popping the book to the first page.
Sabrina stepped into her room and shut the door, tears forming in her eyes. A soft knock on the door, followed by Granny Relda's voice with its light German accent, sounded in her ears, but Sabrina was too upset to hear the words her loving grandmother spoke to comfort her. She quickly turned her door's lock and flopped onto her bed, before the tears unleashed themselves, pouring out of her eyes and rolling down her cheeks. Quiet sobs racked her body as she tried in vain to compress herself, to disappear.
She'd never been so hurt, felt so huge and exposed. Puck's attacks had never been so brutal. Her only photograph of her mom and dad together, the only photograph she'd salvaged from the police's confiscation, had been put through the paper shredder and left on the kitchen counter. The only clue of the culprit's identity was a post-it note with seven hurtful words scratched onto it.
You don't deserve to have a family.
Puck had never gotten so personal with his pranks. This wasn't even a prank, it was just cruel heartlessness. Sitting up and wiping her eyes, Sabrina was soothed, just a little, by the thought of writing about this in her journal. Just a month ago, Sabrina had needed comfort from Goldie's failed kiss, but everyone else was too heartbroken to offer any sort of soothing words. She'd seen Daphne and Relda open their journals, and decided to have a go at it as well.
Sabrina fell in love with it. She'd poured her heart out into that first entry, reliving every emotion she'd felt, from the last entry eight months previous, to the minute she'd picked up her pen, in as vivid detail as possible. It was so easy to open up to a book, spread her feelings like butter across each page, making it a bit mushier than what was normally Sabrina. It listened, and eventually she came back to it more and more, and she wrote at least a page every night. Her journal was "Life, as told by Sabrina Grimm."
Sabrina's hand touched hard wood. Confusion swept through her brain, and she stood up and searched behind her desk and under her bed. There was a gigantic hole under the desk. Floorboards had been ripped up. Jumbled thoughts whirled around like a Vegas casino machine in Sabrina's head, finally clicking to a stop on one word.
Puck.
As if on cue, a smart tapping sounded on the door, followed by a boy's voice. That voice, sometimes as smooth as glass, had never sounded so horrible in Sabrina's ears than it did then. Like nails on a chalkboard, or a bunch of glass and cement in a blender.
"Grimm. The old lady accused me of ripping up some old photograph. I want an apology."
Sabrina banged open the door and glared at him with such burning hate and ferocity that, had looks been able to kill, Puck would have dropped dead on the spot. He took a careful step back, and then entered the room.
Sabrina had never hated someone as much as Puck at that moment. Puck opened his mouth, but Sabrina lept at him, yelling and screaming and crying, clawing his face and neck, trying with all her might to hurt this creature, this horrible person, wanting nothing but to give back some of the pain he'd given her. Her nails drew blood.
There were gouge marks in Puck's cheeks. He could feel hot sticky liquid running down the left side of his face. And then he shoved her.
She stumbled off him and tripped over the hairbrush that had been knocked on the floor in Puck's hasty search for her journal. Her arms groped for something to grab hold to, to right herself, but they found nothing, and her head caught the corner of her desk. An acute pain drilled into the back of her skull, like someone had stabbed her with a knife, and the world grew black.
A/N: So there we go. Puck's worst fear is Sabrina's death, and he's caused it. I might write a second chappie if enough people want me to (hint, hint).
Please remember to R/R, it doesn't take too long, people!