Singing. Her mothers singing. She can hear it like an echo from somewhere far away, soft and lilting.
Green light. Just like every night she hears the singing and sees the green light, a lightning bolt coming straight at her face.
The green light was pleasantly entertaining until she realized that it was meant to hurt her. She didn't even have time to scream before the light vanished just as one of it's bright green tendrils came within licking distance of her face. She was so confused. Where was her mother who had just been singing to her. Where was her father who always stood beside her while she did so. There was a flash of green light and she looked soon enough to see her father falling to the floor and a black cloak swirling around a faceless figure.
She awoke with a start drenched in sweat, just like she had every night since she was told that her Aunt and Uncle were not truly her mother and father, as she had believed for years previously. At eleven she had learned to control the screaming because Aunt and Uncle Gray's room was right above her little mudroom bedroom and they got angry when her nightmares caused her to scream.
The nightmare was always the same, always with the green flashes that were from indeterminate sources her falling father the indefinable figure. There was never a reason for the things that happened, and even after four years of the same recurring nightmare she had no idea what she was seeing every night as she wallowed in unconsciousness. She remembered words, words that weren't in English, words that don't make any more sense than the dream itself, she knew there were words, and every time she awoke she tried to remember them to no avail. The un-recallable words were the only sound in the dream besides her mothers singing. There are no footsteps or cries not even a thud as her father's body fell. It was just the words and the singing.
She never knew her mother, or her father. She only knew on instinct that the people in her dream were her parents. She never really saw their faces, it was just the subconscious knowledge that the people were her family. She knew that her hair looked exactly like her mothers, a deep raven shade of black, and her green eyes were exactly like her father's and her grandfathers. She'd never met her grandfather on her fathers side, even though he was Uncle Gray's father as well. It was as if Uncle Gray wanted nothing to do with him. The mere mention of Grandpa Gray was upsetting to Logan, though she never knew why. She only knew that if she wanted supper she'd never bring him up.
She looked over at the glowing read numbers on her dresser clock. 2:16 it mocked her. Wonderful. She had to be up early to help put up decorations for Amy's party while she still slept, and she had only managed to fall asleep two hours ago. She had to be up in another four hours with Aunt and Uncle Gray, and they wouldn't care that she'd been awoken by yet another nightmare. They'd tell her that she was just a silly girl with a silly fear and that she was lying to get out of working. She laid back down and closed her eyes the green flashes were still there, behind her eyelids, like an after burn, even though she was still in only darkness.
She couldn't sleep, which wasn't abnormal for her, so she decided to let her mind wander until tiredness retook her. She though of her up coming twelfth birthday. It was in three months, but that didn't matter, she always thought of her birthday, like it would allow her some sort of escape, though it as unlikely. She wondered if her parents were nice before they died. Her Uncle always said her parents were evil, but she'd long since learned that her uncle was prone to exaggeration, the fact was obvious simply in the way that he praised his daughter, Amy, in front of his friends when they had company. She wasn't supposed to be in the house when they had company. She was meant to go across the yard to Mr. Avery's house, but usually she would stake out in the cupboard beneath the stairs and listen to them speak, sometimes she even imagined that it was her own father praising her the way her Uncle praised Amy.
She liked Mr. Avery though. Sometimes when she couldn't sleep she'd sneak out of the little mudroom, that was adorned with only the cot that she slept in and a few sets of clothes beneath it, and make her way to Mr. Avery's house, where she was always welcome. Mr. Avery was the only bright spot in her otherwise torturous life. He had a dog named Belle that he took with him everywhere, and when Mr. Avery went somewhere he couldn't take her it was Rosalie's job to take care of her. She would hop the fence and crawl in through the "dog door" that was big enough for a little girl to fit through and always unlocked. She would sit in his kitchen and play with Belle until she was too tired to continue and found herself somehow back in her cot without moving. She never questioned it, just assumed that she was too tired to remember.
Right now she was debating going over to Mr. Avery's. She got up quietly so as not to make the cot squeak and peaked out the little window beside the door. The night was still and quiet, the only illumination a solitary street lamp on the sidewalk in front of the house. She carefully undid the lock, deciding to deal with the consequences if she didn't sleep, and made her way across the yard hopping the little fence and crawling in through the little dog door. Belle was up and making her way towards Rosalie before she was even half way through the door. The big black dog nuzzled Rosalie's neck and Rosalie giggled quietly.
"Hey there, Bellie. Have you been a good doggy for Mr. Avery?" The dog licked her face and Rosalie fight down a giggle. She didn't want to wake Mr. Avery, though he'd said more than once he wouldn't mind, she was a guest in his house, and she would act as such.
"You won't believe it, but Uncle Logan and Aunt Alice are making me get up in less than four hours to help them decorate for spoiled Amy's stupid party, and I'm not even going to be allowed to go, not that I would want to go to her stupid party anyway. I'm going to be shut up in the mudroom for eternity, aren't I Bellie?" She sighed and Belle licked Rosalie's face again, giving a little whine.
"I know, Bellie, I know, it upsets you when I'm like this, but I'm starting to think that there's no escaping. Where will I go? If I run away they'll either bring me back or I'll die." She sighed and laid her head on Bell's Bellie and ran her fingers through her thick black pelt. Belle cuddled herself around Rosalie and before she knew it Rosalie was slipping under the surface of a dream world.
Rosalie groaned as heard her Aunt Alice yelling at her from the kitchen. She glanced at her clock. 6:02. She groaned and before she was even out of her cot she felt confusion fall over her. Hadn't she fallen asleep in Mr. Avery's kitchen? She shrugged it off and grabbed a new set of clothes from beneath her cot and went to brush her teeth in the little water closet and change.
"There's no time for that! I said we would start working at six. If you wanted to take care of all of that then you should've gotten up earlier, now come wrap these!" Alice yelled at Rosalie as she attempted to go to the water closet.
Rosalie took a deep irritated breath and threw her things onto the bed before going out to help her Aunt Alice with whatever ridiculous chore she had in store for her.
"Clean the floor properly you stupid witch! Scrub harder! I don't want my Amy to be embarrassed by dirty floors!" She was on her hands and knees with a brush and a bucket scrubbing the grout between the tiles. Talk about a Cinderella moment. She sighed and continued to scrub despite the pain in her knees. She'd been perched like this on the time for a solid hour and had only done half the floor. She was only allowed to move on to another section whenever Alice was happy with her work.
"Don't you own a mop?" She grumbled under breath as she scrubbed at the tile. She glanced up at her Aunt Alice who was washing the dishes from the cake that she'd just put to bake. The water was running as she rinsed the bowl that had previously contained chocolate batter. Rosalie just glared at her Aunt as the water ran.
The tap began to shake and then, right before her eyes it exploded the faucet shooting up into the ceiling and sticking as the water sprayed heavily in the kitchen. She held back a laugh as the water shot straight at her Aunt's face. She sputtered and attempted to shield her face from the blast as she stumbled back She hit the table in the center of the kitchen and fell landing on her bum in the middle of the floor water still shooting up and hitting her right on her head.
"LOGAN!" She screamed from her spot as she tried to escape from the fountain, but the stream followed her no matter where she went until she left the room, then the water stopped.
Rosalie didn't hold back the laugh as the woman who had tormented her relentlessly for the past nine years finally got a taste off her own medicine. This wasn't the first time something like this had happened. Once before one of Aunt Alice's puddings had mysteriously fallen to the ground. Shattering the pretty glass serving bowl and splattering the contents all over the floor. She was beginning to think that these happenings were more than just coincidence. She'd done some research at school and was starting to believe he was a telekinetic. Tat was the only way she could explain the things that kept happening that made any sense.
Her Uncle Logan came storming in a look of utter discontent on his face, his ears pinking slightly at the tips.
"And what are you laughing at you little witch!" He yelled addressing her where she still knelt on the tile snickering. "You did this, didn't you?! Didn't you?!" He questioned. She looked at the now dripping spout where the faucet had once been and then back at her uncle.
"No, I couldn't have, I was all the way over here," she said innocently, but she had a feeling that she had done it.
"Don't get smart with me! Tomorrow after we say goodbye to all of Amy's house guests we are taking you to where ever people like you go and you are not to set foot back in this house! Is that clear?" He yelled at her.
Had she just been kicked out of her home?
"Fine! I didn't want to live here anyway!" She yelled at him before standing and dropping the brush on the floor and heading out the back door by her mudroom. Before she knew it she had hopped the fence and was knocking on Mr. Avery's back door. He answered almost immediately and she lost it. Before she knew it she was crying soft silent tears of a lost and broken eleven year old.
They weren't the kindest to her, but they were her family, the only family she had, and they had just disowned her.
Mr. Avery led her inside and Belle was immediately at her side, licking her hand and nudging her leg, whining the entire time. "Rosalie, dear, what's wrong?" Mr. Avery asked, puling out a chair for her at his kitchen table and putting a glass of water down in front of her that she wasn't aware he was holding.
She shook her head, closing her eyes. She needed to stop crying. Crying wasn't going to solve anything. She wiped her eyes an Mr. Avery knelt in front of her taking her shoulders in his hands and speaking softly. "Rosalie, what happened?" He asked her softly.
She opened her eyes and shook her head. "My Uncle kicked me out. He thinks I'm a freak." She whispered.
Mr. Avery frowned. "A freak, Rosalie, you are far from a freak."
"No I'm not, look." She concentrated hard on the glass of water channeling all her anger at her Aunt and Uncle to the glass and it shattered.
Mr. Avery laughed and Rosalie blushed. He must think she's a freak too. She bent her head and he picked up he chin. "Little Rosalie, I promise, you are far from a freak."