So hey guys, and thanks for tuning into the next chapter of Unwritten! I managed to finish earlier than expected due to some, er, otherwise unforeseen circumstances, so here you go! Big thanks to Mylaervain and FalconTytus - you guys rock! And an extended appreciation to all of you - wow, Chapter One already has more or less 200 visitors and several favs/alerts... the support is heartwarming. (:

Anyways, thank you for all the input, whether it was via review or PM... I'm glad you guys think I set the tone for this story right. On that note, I really, really hope the tone for Chapter Two is alright as well... Enjoy as always!


Chapter 2: Reflection

"Snow... was Snow. There was something about him that made me feel appreciated, cherished, loved.
He made me feel like I was worth something."
Serah Farron

Finding herself shyly waiting at the gates of the school, Serah waited for the familiar form of Snow to emerge from the front entrance. She'd run into him again on her way to school, finding that they lived near each other. She'd allowed herself to smile, even when it was more or less for his benefit, when he waved at her; unexpectedly, he crossed the street to join her, his infectious grin instantly widening her own tight smile when he recounted something that he'd done the previous night. Serah hadn't realized she was smiling until he commentated that she looked prettier when she was smiling. That comment had brought a blush to her cheeks.

He knows... somehow, how to make me smile. Listening to his banter, Serah had found that she could let her inner self out - the Serah that had only been shown to her sister, the playful and fun loving Serah she hadn't shown to anyone else. He coaxed that out of her effortlessly; he didn't even know her, and he reached through the outer, silent levels of pain until he'd found the beauty underneath the thorns of a rose. That first walk to school had terrified her, she could admit that, but she could also admit that his easygoing, exuberant nature warmed her in ways she'd never dreamed possible. And he doesn't even know... who I am.

Inviting her over to his table at lunch, Serah had smiled shyly when he'd introduced her to his group of friends: Yuj, Maqui, Gadot, and Lebreau. They'd all welcomed her warmly, accepting Snow's story that he'd saved her in front of the school yesterday.

"The 'hero' thing is a pretty big deal for Snow," Lebreau giggled into her ear. "Expect that to be in his head for awhile." The dark haired girl had crowed with laughter, seeing the mortified look on Snow's face. Serah had managed a weak smile, but not before an impossibly selfish thought crossed her mind. Am I... Is this the right thing? Letting myself be known by them? What if...? She didn't want to know what could happen if she revealed her past to them, didn't want to know what would happen when they saw past the pretty, petite figure to the broken doll that was housed inside.

"Hey, don't space out." Snow's rough growl was suddenly beside her. "You ready to go?" Looking up, Serah bobbed her head once, wincing when one of the edges of the textbook brushed her arm where there was a bruise. He hadn't gone for her last night, but then again, she could never predict his temperaments.

She struggled to keep up with the fast pace he set in the autumn breeze that blew crisp leaves around her, tangling orange and blazes of red with her cherry coloured hair; seeing her flounder, he slowed down with an easy grin, smile lighting up his face again. "Sorry," he laughed sheepishly. "I keep forgetting you're not as tall as I am."

"That's an understatement," she murmured quietly, and it was true - Serah barely reached his shoulders. He laughed again, scratching his chin.

"Right." He fixed her with a serious gaze that didn't really suit his boisterous character, ocean blue eyes suddenly honest and intent. "So, Serah, why'd you move here? I mean, you're from... Bodhum, right? Eden's a pretty rowdy place for someone who must be used to peace and quiet."

He remembered. It had been one of the first questions he'd asked her: where she was from, and despite her reservations and instincts telling her to know better, she'd told him the truth. At first, she'd been surprised at her urge to tell him the truth, but looking back on it, Serah didn't really regret it. There was something about him that reassured her he wouldn't do much with the information. The fact that he'd recalled it in his numerous questions was touching in more than one way.

"I can see that," she responded quietly. "My uncle... I live with him. He works for the Sanctum, and they transferred him here. So, we picked up and moved." Snow had a hand on his chin, looking thoughtful.

"Why'd you live with your uncle? Your folks not around?"

The question slammed into her like a physical blow, and suddenly, Serah staggered, the textbooks tumbling out of her arms - it was too hard to breathe. "Shit, Serah, I didn't mean it like that-" Snow's hand had reached out for her arm, no doubt in a gesture meant to comfort, but unfortunately, his arm gripped one of the bruises left behind, and involuntarily, she jerked her arm out of his hand, holding it, struggling to breathe, still.

Snow had gotten to his knees in front of her, collecting her things. He'd shut his mouth - clearly afraid of saying or doing more that would evoke a similar reaction from her. It was awhile before she'd collected her emotions and thoughts into something coherently controlled, shakily taking her books from him.

He'd meant her no harm. Both the question and the gesture had been genuine. But both had adversely affected her, as her ugly, scarred past reared up uncontrollably, she'd pushed him away. I... This is why I can't... "Sorry," she whispered quietly. "I overreacted. Snow, please... it's didn't have anything to do with you." Her last words shifted somewhere into the realm of a plea, seeing the pained look on his face. "It's not your fault... it's mine."

He looked dubiously down at her, anguish clouding his usually exuberant features. "You sure... you're okay? You look really shaken." She gave him a watery smile, hoping that the worn expression would alleviate some of the negative features etched into his face. He didn't take the cue, still looking worriedly down at her.

"I'll be okay... Don't worry, alright?" Serah knew his concern was genuine, but she couldn't... I can't tell him. I can't trust him... I can't trust anyone with this. "Please."

Snow gave her one more scrutinizing glance, his voice usually quiet as they began walking again. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Slowly, Serah took a breath, taking the cool autumn breeze deep into her lungs, willing the icy stab of air to control her still rapidly hammering heart. As she breathed out, some degree of calm did enter, touched with the warmth that he was concerned about her wellbeing. "No... you didn't. It's okay..."

Stopping at her doorstep, she turned to give him a half wave, watching as the already familiar grin slowly return to his face before he turned to walk in the direction of the apartments he lived in. She didn't turn around until his large frame was gone from her sight, before going to find her keys, slowly inserting the small metal blade into the keyhole, hesitantly pushing open the wooden door.

It was dark inside as she locked the door behind her, her eyes scanning the dim room, her socked feet sliding soundlessly across the wooden paneling of the floor. A plaque caught her eye: "Kei Takahashi - Sanctum Level 5 Clearance". The burnished bronze gleamed even in the poor lighting, and Serah pushed away the urge to shrink away from the mere mention of her uncle's name, finding that her hands were curled into loose fists again as she tried to stop them from trembling.

Suddenly unable to continue looking at the plaques that lined the dark living room, Serah found herself running up the stairs to the upper level, inside her room, slamming the door behind her. Exhaustion dragged at her limbs as she curled into a fetal ball on the bed, the events of the last twenty minutes playing through her mind on fast forward. The initial question that had dragged such an irrational reaction out of her, the one gesture that had sent every single nerve ending into overdrive as she tried to deal with her past and present. And his genuine, candid apology, the one that touched some place inside that wasn't covered with scars and wounds.

Serah found her fingers balling the covers as silent tears began to slide down her cheeks - she gave up wiping them away after the first few attempts when it was clear they weren't going to to stop. I just wanted... I didn't mean to react that way... I didn't mean to show him... She didn't know when she crossed the boundary into sleep, pushed along by the recurring last lines that her sister had said to her and the look on Snow's face when he apologized to her. The look in their eyes had been the same, as fear of that drove her into the realms of dreams.

She didn't know how long it had been since she'd fallen asleep, but she was dragged back into consciousness in the dying light of Phoenix as cold, steel grey eyes looked down on her. The breath was driven from her lungs as she was flung against the wall, hands scrabbling for purchase, but finding none, on the smooth plaster. The smell of alcohol was pervading her senses, and Serah wanted to cover her mouth and nose; just as she raised her thin wrist, it was grabbed by a rough, much larger hand. Half lifted into the air, she found her side meeting the floorboards as she landed on her hip, the pain sending shockwaves up her entire body as she struggled not to cry out, the golden sunlight spilling in bars on her slender form.

She waited for the next blow to come, but it didn't. Instead, she heard the door to her room slam, echoing off furniture in the distance, and loud, unsteady, footsteps fade away. Still, she didn't move, sapphire eyes half open as she watched the warmth of Phoenix fade from her window, the moon's icy cold light slowly stealing silently across the floorboards, as unwanted memories resurfaced as she remembered the last time she had lain prone for so long.


The short, pained cry made her want to get up, to do anything to protect her sister. She couldn't see Claire from where she was lying, pain twisting her ankle and back, but she could hear her... and the sound of the blow that came not five seconds later. Her sister didn't give in though, and her next words made Serah freeze with fear.

"You... fuck you." The words, spoke with all the harshness a fifteen year old could muster, was responded to with the sound of a slap. Serah heard her sister crash to the ground, but this time, there was no anguished scream. Instead, she heard the hissed retort forced through lips and teeth gritted in pain. "Don't touch me."

Serah would have done anything to prevent their uncle from hearing those words as she heard him, strangely, stride away from Claire. It was a heartbeat or two before she realized that he was approaching her. "Fine," she heard him growl. "Would you rather I touched your sister instead?" She heard the raising of something hard, something solid, just above her head and she closed her eyes, expecting her next breath to be her last. Instead, she felt something heavy, very heavy, drop onto her middle, squashing the breath out of her. Afraid to breathe too loudly, she heard the smashing of something breakable hit the ground as the sound of footsteps moved away from her.

It was a long time before she thought it was okay to open her eyes, finding her face parallel in plane with the shattered remnants of a china plate, scattered patternlessly across the carpet of the floor. It was only then she realized whose body was lying on top of hers, pink hair streaked with blood.

She didn't know how long they lay there, limbs tangled together in a mutual nightmare neither of them could escape from. Unable to move, unable to shift her sister's body off of her, the only thing she could do was let the silent tears stain the fabric of the the white carpet, watching it dilute the scarlet colour that it had been stained as she slowly raised a hand to find her sister's.

"Claire..."


The luminous numbers on the clock read 1:37 AM before Serah found the inner strength to pull herself to her feet, pushing the last vestiges of tears from her cheeks, weighed down by memories and emotions. She couldn't shake off that weight - it was like carrying the whole world on her back. A small, cursory piece of advice wove through her mind. 'Just keep going. Whatever happens... just keep going.' It had hooked at something when her mind had caught up with her thoughts: that had been her sister's voice.

Stumbling into the bathroom, Serah slowly moved the small nob for the light, unsure if she wanted to look at the mirror, afraid of who, or what, she would find reflected back at her. The bright fluorescent light came on anyways, responsive to the slightest change in position, as the small room was flooded with white light.

Slowly trailing a hand down her swollen cheek, she cradled it for a moment before pulling her woolen vest and cotton shirt completely off her thin frame, seeing the new bruises that had bloomed across her left hip and shoulder blades on her back. Dropping the pile of cloth to the floor, her fingers met those of her reflection's as she touched the mirror, the cool smoothness under the slender tips soothing the throbbing that pounded mercilessly under her pale skin.

Serah didn't know she was crying again until she saw the silver streak of tears on the 'her' on the other side of the glass. Watching the bruised, slim creature try to contain her pain silently, uselessly, she was irresistibly reminded of the stone angels that adorned her parents' graves. The ones with upturned faces, staring forever into the endless blue of the sky, unaffected by the calamities that rocked the world. Their stone wings would never stop beating, never lose direction even in a gale that tore the sky asunder.

Looking at the reflection in the mirror, she couldn't be further from that as Serah slowly sank to the floor, arms hugging herself as she looked down, pink bangs cascading over her eyes. Those concrete angels had had a look of serenity on their faces; they were confident that they were loved.

And who... Who would love someone like me?

Serah thought she could look forever and not find an answer, not one that lay in her past, and not one that would present itself in the future she didn't think she could face.


*takes a breath*

This chapter was somehow really, really hard to get right. I played with the diction so much until Serah didn't sound like Serah anymore, and then I had to change stuff back because well, Serah's supposed to sound like Serah. *rips hair out* That was frustrating. *mumbles angrily*

Anyways, leave love/critiques/comments in reviews as always (I love reviews 8D) and I'll see you guys next time. I'm fairly sure Chapter Three will be out by the weekend, whether it's Saturday (most likely) or Sunday (if I don't finish on time), so I'll catch you then, and once again, thank you for all your support!

Hearts!