Shame
Rating: PG-13/T
Genre: Drama/Angst
Summary: Part 1 of 4. The scene in Hoffman's room at the end of the Mermaid Princess chapter revisited. Jennifer is discovered.
Authors Note: I wrote this at school. It was a lovely distraction from my mediocre existence as a Junior.
Disclaimer: I don't own Rule of Rose. It belongs to Atlus.
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NOTE: For whatever reason, when I uploaded my recent batch of stories onto this website, all of the punctuation was gone. No Idea why. So if you see a punctuation error, that's why. I went through and tried to pick out and fix as many as I could, but I might have missed some.
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Jennifer knew she shouldn't have seen what she just saw.
It wasn't that Hoffman was touching (groping) Diana. It wasn't that Diana was getting blamed (wrongly) for something she didn't do (Something that Meg and Eleanor made Jennifer do). It wasn't that that really expensive (really really expensive) fish was dead.
It was because, throughout it all, from the moment Hoffman stepped into the room to the moment he left, Diana was crying.
Diana. Was crying.
Diana was the rock of the orphanage. She didn't cry when she was sad, she didn't cry when she was angry, she didn't cry when she got hurt. On that note, Diana never really had a reason to cry (in front of the others). She always (always) got angry, and Heaven and Hell help you if you happenned to be in her way when she did.
She was (for all intent and purpose) head of the Aristocrats.
She was (excluding Clara who's practically an adult now) the oldest.
She was Hoffman's favorite.
But from the way he'd just been touching her, Jennifer realized that that might not be a good thing after all.
If this is what it meant to be favorite, then she was happy to keep her spot on the list of the detested.
Hoffman left. But not before turning towards Jennifer's (closet) hiding place, perhaps hearing her (breathe).
Diana was left (sort of) alone, making disgusted noises and tearing at her dress like it was covered in poisonous, clinging spiders. Or worse, maybe his fingerprints that she was dying to get off (off).
Then, silence.
Jennifer held her breath.
She knew that Meg and Eleanor were (hiding) behind the (useless) fish tank in the corner, and knew that they'd probably call her out when the coast was clear.
Jennifer also knew, however, that Meg and Eleanor (really) did not favor her. They would not bear much (any) guilt if they left her alone.
So she pushed open the door.
On the bed (dirty) directly across from her was the reason for the (dirtier) scene: The doll.
The legs and fish-head were disposed of (dumped in the halls somewhere), and the remaining torso and tail (real) had been stitched together in a crude mimicry of a mermaid (not real).
Quietly, still dazed at the (bad) scene, Jennifer paced over to the (filthy) bed and picked the (sick) doll up.
"Hn?"
She froze.
Oh.
Oh no.
It seemed that Diana had not left the room after all.
She was near the (blessed) door, and every fiber of her (miserable) attention was focused on the (filthy) little blonde that, by logical elimination of any other (hopeful) explanation, had just borne (horrified) witness to everything that had just transpired.
Jennifer was dead.
Horrified, she watched as (cruel) Diana turned to face her fully. The look in the red-head's eyes (empty) was entirely unsettling. Numbly (terrified) Jennifer wondered if Meg and Eleanor (cruel) were watching. Even if they were, she was smart (familiar) enough to know she was on her own (dead).
Diana approached Jennifer the way an angry (hungry) lioness approaches one of her fellows before tearing their throat out. Diana said nothing (everything), and Jennifer was too frightened (awed) to look her in the eyes for fear of seeing the rage (shame) that was, undoubtedly, boiling (swirling).
When she was less than a foot from her fellow (outsider) orphan, Diana's (shaking) hand shot out. "Give it here." Short and sweet (bitter). Jennifer had flinched (cowered) expecting a slap (clobbering). Without hesitation, she dropped the (fake) mermaid into the elder girl's hand.
Diana turned (sharp) on her heel and strode over to the (dead) fish tank again, dropping the doll in without ceremony.
Her (quivering) back was too Jennifer, so the younger could not see her (cold) eyes flash, which may have indicated a suspicion (knowledge) of the two other (perpetrators) orphans behind the tank.
But she was silent (screaming).
And then Diana whipped around (too fast) to focus on Jennifer, whose terror (pity) shot up several notches. "Now listen to me, you worthless little piece of dirt," Jennifer quaked like a leaf (tiny) as Diana (big) stalked towards her. "If you want to live to see your ninth birthday, you will forget everything you've just seen and heard. Do you, in any way, misunderstand me?"
Jennifer's head bobbled (desperately) up and down. Diana's eyes (screamed) boasted murder, and she was clenching her fists hard enough to draw (more) blood. Jennifer backed up and up and up until the backs of her legs hit the (FILTHY) bed. Diana then gave her a sharp (hateful) shove, pushing her down onto the (FILTHY) sheets and straddling her legs with her own.
"I'm warning you, Jenn-i-fah. If any of the others find out about this, I swear to God, I'll come to your bed in the middle of the night and cut your throat! Got it?"
Jennifer nodded, eyes (scared) wide.
Diana allowed her glare to linger (burn) on the smaller girl for a moment longer, wanting to impress (BURN) the sincerity of her words in for good (EVER).
Then, coolly (covering), she climbed off the eight year-old and dusted off her (dirty) dress as calm (hysterically) as you please.
Then she left the room, leaving the door (purposefully) cracked.
Jennifer was (dead) still as she listened to Dianas footsteps recede, not wanting to do anything further to provoke the girl.
When she was fully gone, Eleanor and Meg (revealed) popped out from their places behind the tank.
"Are you mad?" Was Meg's greeting. "Why on earth did you leave the closet?!"
"I- I thought she was gone! I couldn't hear her, and I couldn't see her from the keyhole!"
Eleanor looked grave (typical). "She'll be after you now. I've never seen her so mad." She turned to Meg. "Still, we had to do it. Mermaids aren't real." Meg nodded, albeit weakly (unconvincingly).
"Right. It was for her own good." She turned back to Jennifer, who was still trying to control her (frantic) prominent shaking. "What about you, Jennifer? Do you believe in mermaids?"
The question caught the youngest (weakest) off guard. "Oh W-Well, I don't know. Maybe? Does it matter?" Meg sighed.
"I suppose not."
Not now, anyway.
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The dim light from Hoffman's (dirty) study leaked (ominously) into the hallway. The (traitorous) girls voices trickled through the cracked doorway, floating to the ears of the only person in the hall.
This, notably, was also the last person they wanted to hear them.
Hoffman would have punished them if he'd heard.
But Diana would do much, much worse.
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