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Mail: m[dot]remylebeau[at]gmail[dot]com

—
Ch 1―What's in a name?
—

She awoke with a start. A red on black flash floated across her vision for a second before she gasped out for air, feeling as if she'd been holding her breath throughout the entire dream―or was it a nightmare?

Lola Mae Hammond had been having having the same old recurring dream of an unknown woman's soft face for the last few months, probably due to too much stress for a 6-year-old child to handle. She'd been taken to yet another foster home with yet another set of foster parents that either acted like she didn't exist, or were so used to the foster routine that they let her do whatever she wanted just so she was out of their hair.

At first, she thought she might have met some decent folk when Sharon and Joseph Waldrep agreed to take her in. Sharon was all smiles and Joseph shook her small hand while giving her a wink, commenting on her firm grip. She swallowed the giggle that threatened to spill past her lips, keeping quiet as the rest of the paperwork was signed. She'd left that day with only a small pack of a few belongings and a grubby old bear that had kept her company throughout the years.

Almost two years later, Lola Mae felt like she was the most invisible girl in the world. Although the Waldreps had a pretty big house with three bedrooms and three full baths, each room seemed cold and callous. They hadn't taken on any other foster kids while she was with them. Her room was bare as the day she arrived and she hadn't felt like she was welcome to decorate it with trinkets or pictures.

The only hint of warmth was the park a ways down the dirt road…

—

One day when she was walking down that dirt road, Lola Mae kicked a hefty-sized rock as she stared at the dusty gravel and sun-beaten dirt. After walking for Lord knew how long, she found herself stepping on small pools of sand, for lack of a better term.

"Hey!" shouted an indignant, rather high pitched voice.

"Wha―" she looked up in surprise, jade green eyes widening as she fixed the boy with her shocked look.

"Watch whatcha doin'! I ain't here to be thrown rocks at!" The boy crossed his arms over his small chest, puffing it out and practically pouting at her.

"Ah'm sorreh," she began, but he just stuck his tongue out at her and ran in the opposite direction.

Her head shook as she tried not to become annoyed. She wasn't 2 or 3 anymore, she reasoned. No need t' be gettin' in a huff, she reminded herself. Even at 8, she still felt her temper setting off at the smallest of incidences.

—

The next day found Lola Mae walking the same dirt road, her teddy hanging from her left hand and a small, tattered book hovering a few inches from her face.

That same boy was at the park again today, sitting in a large pool of sand, hands leaned back and head tilted to the side.

"Whatcha readin'?" he called out.

Her body halted and she visibly shook in surprise, dropping her teddy and whipping the book toward her chest. She took a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut before shouting:

"Will ya quit shoutin' lahk that? Dern near gave a girl a heart attack!"

Opening her eyes, her brows knit together as she picked up her teddy and turned, intending to walk away.

"Wa―wait!" the boy called out, scrambling up from his position and running a few yards after her, until he got close enough to tug her auburn ponytail.

"Ouch!" she cried, spinning around to smack his hand away with her book. "Don't ya be touchin' mah hair lahk that!"

Before he gave her a chance to leave again, he snatched the little book out of her hands and tried to read the front cover. It was so worn that he barely made out the words:

"Ba-ht―Bayt-un Roh-ug?" he attempted, before she snatched it back.

Lola Mae glared at the boy. "It's pronounced 'BAT-UN ROOJ' ya dummy! And t'ain't nun'a ya bi'ness 'bout mah book!" her accent running thicker as her temper ran higher.

"Ha, naw," he said, cracking a lopsided grin, "that must be sayin' somethin' else. Lahk… what that name, what mama call paw… yeah!" He punched his fist in the air, triumph in his eyes, "'Blast'd rogue!' She done call'd him a dirty rogue last time he trode in home late, lookin' a right awful mess."

She huffed and turned back toward the Waldreps' as the boy laughed at her from behind.

"See ya later, Rogue!"

Lola Mae's ears lit up a bright, angry red as she stomped back home.

—

The Waldreps turned out to be a much longer foster family than she'd thought they would be. At age 12, she was just finishing the 8th grade at Murphy Elementary. Her teachers were impressed by her enthusiasm for reading and oral skills, and had bumped her up a grade, which hardly made the Waldreps bat an eyelash.

Summer vacation was slow and somewhat uncertain for Lola Mae. She'd be starting a new grade soon, and moving on to an entirely new school just west of the Fawn Bayou, her favorite place to imagine from her window.

One balmy night during her summer vacation, around the first week of July, Lola Mae was lying in bed, arms thrown up against her pillow which was deformed and flattened under her back. She was writhing like a catfish out of water, desperate for life, and her hands slapped around tangled up in the plain cotton sheets. Eyes squeezed shut, her whimpers floated upon the warm summer air filtering in through her open window.

A man was shouting so loud it hurt her ears. She covered them with dirty little hands, eyes scrunched up and knees pulled up to her chest. She was hiding under the kitchen table, tucked away inside a dingy cupboard. The woman's cries were penetrating through her hands and the girl shook her head, trying to get the horrible sounds out of her head.

"Git yer ass back here!" He yelled again before a loud smack resounded in the girl's ears. It sounded like whatever he hit had landed into the wall with a dull thudding sound, and then there was silence.

Her eyes opened a tiny bit and she started to pull her hands away from her ears, hoping that the yelling was over.

"ANNA MARIE!" the man shouted, and the little girl hugged her knees tightly while squeezing herself back as hard as she could against the inside corner of the cupboard, heart pounding so hard she could barely breathe.

Lola Mae let out a scream that woke her up from her dream. Still feeling its effects, she struggled against something that bound her hands and shook like a terrified bird when she couldn't get free. Her eyes were so dry that she couldn't shed any tears. They'd long been dried out by the events that occurred throughout her life, so that she promised herself she'd never cry again if she could help it.

Finally looking around, she noticed that she was in a familiar room. Her wide eyes traveled down to her right, then her left, and she saw the sheets twisted tightly around her wrists. She controlled her breathing when she realized that was the cause for her inability to escape, and when she relaxed and scooted herself down the bed, the sheets loosened enough for her hands to pull free.

Pulling her knees up into her chest, both arms wrapped around them and she rested her small chin against her knees, staring out the open window toward the bayou in the distance. She imagined its mist slowly swirling over the stagnant water in the hot night air, almost as though a breeze was picking it up.

"Anna Marie…" she whispered aloud, wondering why that name struck a nerve in her. The little girl in her dream couldn't have been more than 2 or 3, but she was so terrified of that man…

Of course, who wouldn't be, when she'd heard what she thought she had. Was he some family friend? Or an uncle? Or―

Eyes widening again, she made the obvious connection: he's her daddy. But why would he be so dern mean to his own daught―her whole body was covered in shivers before she could finish the thought.

Tonight was a night full of confusion. Reluctant, but so very fatigued, Lola Mae crawled back up her bed and moved her pillow to the head of the bed, trying without success to fluff up the long flattened thing. Her auburn head fell back against it with a sigh and her jade green eyes closed for a second time that night.

—

Her next night's rest proved to be just as interrupted as the prior one had been. Lola Mae's head shot up and her chest heaved as she awakened from the same dream. This time, she saw a shadow coming up toward the cupboard the little girl was hiding in, and she could smell the stench of some heavy liquor on his breath, but she hadn't seen his face.

Trying to calm down, she placed a hand at her forehead and encountered several beads of perspiration, which she wiped against her limp sheets before tossing them off and standing up. The worn out wooden floorboards creaked a bit so she tip-toed toward her simple wooden desk to the left of her bed.

When the small desk light came on, she pulled out a plain black book from the top drawer, and the nub of a pencil from the front of the rubber band tightly drawn against the book to keep it shut.

July 6th

Had that dream again. More like a nightmare. Poor little child, frightened near to death. Couldn't make out the ogre's face, but it sho' ain't nothin' to look at if that girl's terrified reaction's got anything to say.

Is the little girl Anna Marie? Or is he yellin' at some neighbor or someone else in the house? And why does that name give me chills ever'time I―

Lola Mae stopped writing at that moment, experiencing yet another reaction to the name. Trying to shake it off, she stopped the journal entry and instead signed the bottom left "LMH" before snapping the rubber band back on and replacing the now dulled pencil nub from the pressure she'd put on it.

Straightening up from the desk, she leaned against the simple wooden chair that she hadn't bothered pulling out for fear of it's making too loud a sound and waking one of the Waldreps up. Her eyes trailed up toward the plain ceiling and she closed her eyes, trying to pinpoint whose name that could be.

A man's angry red face flashed against her closed eyelids and she shot them open, panting for breath and falling against the chair to her right, bruising her hip and arm in the process. With a pained groan, she stood up and put away the journal, pushing the drawer in noisily, not caring as much if she made noise. Her hip was throbbing in a dull pain now, and she rubbed her right arm with her free hand while shuffling back to bed.

That face was so furious. She blocked it out as best she could before settling back into bed and failing at sleep for the rest of the night.

—

Her morning routine started late today. Sharon and Joseph were again gone from the house, leaving her alone and with no note. She figured they must be out for breakfast, because they sure never cooked around the house. Lola Mae was the only one who did anything like that, so she'd learned to perfect her shrimp creole whenever the ingredients were in the house.

After a half-hearted morning wash-up, she ran a brush through her hair and stared at her reddened and tired eyes in the mirror. She must've managed maybe two hours of sleep all night. That angry red face came clearer to her each time she tried not to see it.

Shuffling out of her room after changing, she grabbed a tattered looking book and headed to the park down the dirt road, hoping to meet some others who were also on vacation from school.

She hadn't made too many friends because they were all sort of intimidated by her lonesome self, always tucked away in some corner reading her books. But Lola Mae did have her eyes on Cody Robbins from their English class, and he'd sure given her several stray looks.

Looking up from the dirt road, a rarely seen smile emerged on her lips as she spotted the very boy in question. He looked a sight better than he did when he indignantly nicknamed her "Rogue" a few years back. His shoulders were a little wider and his hair was messy and light brown.

Bright blues looked up when he heard someone walking toward his spot on the park bench, and a bright smile crossed his face.

"Hey, Rogue!" he called out to her, and she feigned an annoyed expression.

"Cody, yer a dumb fool, ya know that?" A moment later she was sitting next to him and punching his t-shirted arm before scooting back against the bench, all of two feet away. She knew he got a touch shy around her.

"Naw, you jes' say that to all the boys, I bet." He pulled off a somewhat convincing grin and looked forward for a minute, his gaze falling on the rusty slide. A moment later, he turned back toward her and leaned forward, starting up again, "Whatcha readin' this time, bookwor―"

Before he could finish his sentence, she'd leaned toward him and snagged a kiss from his lips, eyes twinkling with mischief and boldness.

Cody's blue eyes widened and he made a muffled noise before his body seemed to go limp. His lips hadn't responded to the kiss and his head suddenly fell back against the bench, leaving the seeker of his affections stupefied.

"Cody?" she called, reaching for his shoulders and trying to shake him out of it. His eyes were rolled back into his head and she could only see the whites of his eyes. Terrified, she touched his cheek and screamed when she felt a sudden jolt of of static shock.

Pulling away sharply, her hands flew to her head as it started pounding with images and voices she didn't recognize. It felt like her skull would explode any minute.

Oh mah Gawd, what's happening t' me? Unable to think clearly anymore, she forced herself off the bench, almost tripping over her own feet, but caught enough balance to run off in the general direction of her house. The car was back in the drive.

"SHARON! JOSEPH!" she cried, her head pounding so hard she couldn't keep her eyes open as she slammed against the screen door of her foster house.

Sharon Waldrep came out to see what the fuss was about when she saw Lola Mae clawing at her head like a mad person. She quickly ushered the girl through the screen door at the front of the house and slammed the heavy wooden door behind them.

"Lola Mae!" she started, trying to pull the girl's arms away from her head and neck. She was met with a hysterical rhetoric of mumbled words and noises that resembled gulped down screams.

Not a few seconds after she was taken into the house, the unfamiliar rush in her brain stopped, and she halted her hands. They slowly dropped as she looked around with wide, shocked eyes. Settling them on Sharon, she reached out, looking almost crazed.

"Who's Anna Marie!" she shouted, landing her hands on the woman's shoulders.

"What's all the dayum commotion up in heah?" came the voice of Joseph Waldrep as the noise had brought him into the kitchen to see what was going on. Seeing Lola Mae with her hands on Sharon's shoulders, he stepped between the two and grabbed onto the girl's wrists. "Now stop this immediately!"

Taking a few breaths, Lola Mae started to come down from the adrenaline rush and she saw her foster father for the first time. "…Anna Marie," she began―

"What nonsense you spoutin', gal?" he asked, shaking her slightly.

"Anna Marie! Who is she?" she asked again, looking from Joseph to Sharon. Neither answered her question for a few tense seconds.

Lola Mae's arms went limp in Joseph's grip and she swayed toward the tall man's body. He caught her before she fell to the floor.

—

July 7th

Found out that Lola Mae is a lie. Anna Marie Hammond ain't, though. That little girl in those dreams―she's me.

The black journal lay open on the day of July 7, pencil nub fallen to the floor next to the desk. The bed was stripped of sheets and the window was shut. All of the clothes (as if there were many to begin with) were gone from their hangers and the closet doors were shut.

It was as if Lola Mae Hammond had never lived in that room.

No, Anna Marie Hammond. The girl who killed Cody Robbins. The girl who he'd called Rogue. With good reason.

She was placed back in a foster home, her pack and a small bag of clothes the only material goods to her name―whatever her name was.

—

Today, eleven days after her "situation" with Cody, it was her thirteenth birthday, and no one would even know or care. Not like the Waldreps did much for her birthdays, but at least they gave her some money. She'd been tucking it away for six years. It seemed like a lot, folded up and tucked against her skin, on the inside of her underwear. That was the only safe place for it.

Anna―Rogue, as she started thinking of herself, looked in the bathroom mirror of her community foster home in New Orleans, the one she'd have to live in for the rest of her high school days.

The stressful… incident… must have made her scalp tear out in gray hairs. She had two whitish streaks along the front of her hair, looking almost natural resting against her curly auburn mane. Eyes glazing over, she started thinking about the near future.

In a few weeks, she was supposed to start high school, but in this new foster home, she was miles away from the Emerson Academy she'd had set in her head. Well, not like it was something special, but it was something, at least.

St. Aloysius High School (more recently accepting co-eds) wasn't her dream school, but it was near enough to the French Quarter that she could finally see the place she'd heard about. Being in Mississippi was comforting. She thought she might have been born there, but she couldn't be sure.

But something about New Orleans… it was unlike anything she'd imagined. The smell of the salt air and tasty food, the parties all over the streets… she imagined it all! Okay, maybe there weren't parties all day long, but the air definitely smelled like down home cookin'.

She'd miss the Fawn Bayou though. Looking out at night, thinking about the various life in the pool of unmoving water. She'd miss the dirt road, the park, and…

Suddenly her right hand came up to touch her lips, green eyes coming back into focus. What did she do to Cody Robbins? The minute she genuinely liked a guy, he had to go and die.

No, that wasn't right. She heard later that he was only comatose, but that was almost as bad as dying, wasn't it?

When she touched his cheek, that's when those… visions, or whatever they were, came to her mind.

Why didn't that happen when she touched Sharon? Or when Joseph grabbed her wrists?

Rogue needed to know what was happening to her, or she feared she'd go insane.

A single tear slipped down her cheek, its reflection tracking down the filthy mirror across from her.

Will Ah evah be normal again…?