I don't own ASOUE. Go figure.

Anyways, I haven't read The Beatrice Letters, so there shouldn't be any spoilers. There are only minor charater spoilers so far for The End, so if you haven't finished it yet, your ok.

Okay, on with the story-

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The Sorrowful Story

My heart is heavy as I write these words. This isn't the dreadful story of the Baudelaire's, it's there dreadful story of their parents, the dreadful story of the Drivers, and possibly the most dreadful story of the Snicket's. My story.

My mother and father sent me, and my two siblings, Kit and Jacques, to a boarding school named Prufrock Preparatory School. Our housekeeper, Rose, was getting our luggage out of our car. Kit helped me out of the car, and handed me my commonplace book.

Kit is the eldest of the Snicket's. Kit has dark hair that went past her shoulders, and her eyes were always wide and alert. She was outspoken and but always fair. Kit was a poet, and for her thirteen years, she had won more contests and astounded more people than some poets have done in their life.

Next was Jacques. Well, next isn't really the correct word. Five minutes later, Jacques was born. Jacques was almost identical to his sister, except for the fact that he was a boy. Jacques is probably the most brilliant Snicket, as he can speak, write and understand three different languages not including his native language, English. He can say many random words in lots of languages, also.

I'm the youngest of the family, Lemony Snicket. My family has always been known to have a way with words, and I am no exception. I am, to cleanly put it, a writer and just that. I do poetry with my sister, I write editorials, and send them to the newspapers, under a pen name, Daniel Handler.

As I got out of the car, I saw a small yellow haired girl walking with her two yellow haired brothers. She was holding on to one brother's hand, and holding a suitcase with another. She looked over at me, and gave me an innocent half smile.

I did not know at that moment I should have run. I did not know that after this day there would be much more misery, woe and fires than needed.

But I did not run. I gave her a half smile back, and Kit rolled her eyes. "Come on," She said, trying to scold me, but it didn't turn out half as mad as she wanted it too.

I saw the Baudelaire's get out of their car down the road. Joelle looked left and right and then saw us. Kit and I waved, and Joelle waved back.

Our family has been good friends with the Baudelaire family for years. There was Bertrand Baudelaire, the oldest who just turned fifteen. He was a researcher, and he loved books dearly. Joelle was 13, and is so smart and quick witted. Joelle loved animals, but had to leave most of them at home. The only one she was allowed was a small dog Hunter, who was peaking out of Joelle's bag. Last was Stella who had strangely large teeth, and enjoyed gnawing on hard things. Stella was very young and was hardly a year old.

"Good-bye kids," Rose said, as she snapped me back into reality.

"You're not walking us in?" Jacques asked.

"I will keep in touch." Rose told us. And with that she left.

"Memento Mori." Kit read off the large sign. "What do you think that means?"

"It's a motto. A very strange one," Jacques said. "Remember you will die."

And suddenly none of us wanted to go into the school.

Joelle ran up and threw her arms around Jacques's neck and mine. "Hola peoples." She said with a smile. Bertrand and Stella appeared shortly after.

"Which dorm are you in?" Bertrand asked.

"Callahan. Fourth floor." I told him.

"Oh, we're on the third!" Joelle said like it was the happiest thing in the world. Everybody had to smile at her innocence.

Kit, Jacques and I made it to the Callahan dorm, which was shaped like a round dome. But once inside, you forgot about the odd architecture and just enjoyed the beautiful aspects of the house. Downstairs was a bonus room, a phrase which here means, extra room usually to store pool tables and large televisions. There was a plush red carpet and chocolate brown leather seats and couches. There was a pool table in the corner with some people playing at it, and a large screen where some people were staring at watching a movie. The fireplace had a roaring and people had taken the books they had found in the library down to read.

Once we made it up to our suite, it just made it slightly more pleasant. The dark hardwood floors covered by red rugs were still there. Then in three separate rooms, were huge three poster beds and large bookcases and a desk for each of us to have. Then in the main room, there was a large couch and a smaller fireplace with a burning fire.

"This might not be so bad." Kit said. "There's plenty of room and everything seems very nice."

I wished I could have believed my sister then. But I wasn't the type too look on the surface of anything. There must have been a reason that the plaque outside said Remember you will die. This place couldn't be so perfect and have that for a motto. But I bit my tongue and answered with a simple, "Yes."

A few hours later, Jacques, Kit and I meet the Baudelaire's in the library. I was writing in my commonplace book when Joelle plopped on a chair next to me. I looked up and saw her, but then entering the library I saw the little blonde girl and one of her brother's enter the room.

Joelle followed my gaze. "She's pretty isn't she? Such a pity."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Those are the Drivers." Joelle told me. "Their parents just died in a fire. That boy right there is Blake, and the girl is Beatrice. The oldest boy is Benjamin."

"Wow." I said. I could not imagine losing my parents in a fire. "I feel sorry for them."

"Of course." Joelle said. "My mother was saying that she thinks this insane Count and Countess set the fire."

"That's awful." I said.

"Oh, Beatrice?" Joelle said, as Beatrice walked by.

She stopped and looked at Joelle then me. "Hello."

"I'm Joelle, this is Lemony." Joelle told her and patted the ottoman as a sign to sit down.

Beatrice sat down, and her and Joelle made small talk. I just watched. Beatrice was truly beautiful. The top half of her hair was pulled back in a clip, while the hold half fell gracefully around her shoulders. Her lips were full and red, with a freckle just above one lip. Her nose was straight and bold and her eyes were an emerald color. Her eyes seemed wide and still slightly in shock.

"Right, Lemony?" Joelle asked.

"Yeah." I said, realizing that I wasn't paying attention.

"Oh." Beatrice said to us quietly. "I love music. But my instruments were burnt in the fire."

"What did you play?" Kit asked.

"Oh a little of everything. Piano, Violin, Cello, Organ, Flute. Nothing out of the ordinary."

"That's amazing." I said.

"Beatrice?" A voice said. It was Blake Driver. "We should go."

"It was nice meeting you Joelle." Beatrice said. "You too Lemony." She gave one of those small, secret smiles again, and left with her brother.

"She seemed nice." I said, and went back to writing.

"Especially since you like her." Joelle said quickly.

I looked up so fast that it jerked the pen in my hand across the page. "What?"

"Oh, never mind." Joelle said. "Let's go eat."

But Joelle was a genius. And she was right also.