Disclaimer: I own no characters except the obvious (Audrey and her famille). And I apologize in advance if my French isn't up to par. 2 years of French will only take you so far, but I've tried my hardest to be accurate. A mini request: you don't need to tell me what I got wrong. Honestly, I'll learn sometime, and if it completely and totally takes over your mind and the only thing you can think of is how I spelled one thing wrong or structured one sentence incorrectly, then you're missing the point of this story.
Prologue
Once upon a time there was a perfect mother who was so kind and gentle. She worked very hard all day, and she loved every minute of it. She would wake up early in the morning rested and ready for the new day. She would make breakfast for her husband, two children, a boy and a girl named Jean-Patrick and Mélanie, and herself. She was madly in love with her husband and thought her two children were the best in the world: they were so smart and quick-witted and polite. They would get straight-A's, too, and succeed in anything they did, just like the mother did until she decided she loved her family more than working. After breakfast the father and children would go to work and school. The father was a big business man who made a lot of money, but always had time for his family, and the children were in elementary school. When everyone was gone, the mother would go shopping and socialize with the other mothers of the town. And everyone would live until they were very old and finally die happy in each other's arms. Everything would be perfect. Everything would be normal. Everything would be right.
I used to think my life would be like that. I was eight, naïve, and had illusions that every eight-year-old should have. Life would be like house. Your husband was always glad to come home and see you, your baby never cried, and if you dropped her, well, that's okay because she's durable. It started with 'once upon a time' and ended with 'the end' like every good fairy tale. I was eight, and my naïveté didn't last long. Now it's nine years later, and I somehow ended up here, in New York State. New York is a long ways away when you grow up in Bordeaux, and I would have never thought I'd end up here. But then I realized that life stories rarely begin with 'once upon a time' and never conclude with 'the end'.
I live in an institute. I know what you're thinking, Institute. Surprisingly enough, it's not like that, though the name sounds…insane. Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters; corny, isn't it? Before you make any preconceptions, though, let me tell you how I got here.
Once upon a time, when I was eight, my father died. Soon after, too soon, really, my mother got remarried. Ever read Cinderella? Well, this isn't like that. I did no hard labor while society's back was turned, and I never, ever got my prince. My stepfather was a very powerful, very influential man in business and we were great from the outside in, but not from the inside out. He was wonderful on the outside and loved by his associates, but what they didn't know about him was what my mother was afraid to tell. But this is all part of my old life. My new life started when a certain man came to my door.