Disclaimer: I do not own the House of Night; this amazing series belongs to P.C. & Kristin Cast. Though I do own the OC, Nettie. And she is me; this is my story if I was to be Marked by a Tracker. Consider this My House of Night!

CHAPTER TWO

Lament

Prying my eyes open, bright afternoon sunlight dazzled my vision. Faint sobbing reached my ears, even as I became aware of the fact that I was sprawled on the cobblestone ground. Heat rose of the concrete beneath me, searing against the flesh of my body that was revealed by my clothes. Little stones and rocks grazed against my skin, and left little indents on the palm of my hands as I pushed myself up into a sitting position. My hair brushed against the ground, as I wavered for a moment, dizziness washing over me, pulling me back into the shadows of unconsciousness.

Sound of crashing waves roared in my ears, I was disorientated. In a moment of silence, a sob caught my attention. Gazing upwards I waited for the bright splotches to finally clear from my eyes. Only to stare up at my mother's colourless face staring down at me. Turning my head, I could spy my sister, half stepping out of the car, her iPod held limply in her hand as topaz flecked brown eyes stared at me in wonder.

Stupidly I said the first ridiculous thing that popped into my head without much thought about what I was saying, "What happened?" I asked, my voice rasping slightly.

"He marked you." my mother said, her voice flat, "Oh Nettie! You have that crescent outline on your forehead!" she pressed a shaking hand to her bloodless lips, her lips trembling as she tried not to cry.

Standing shakily to my feet, I couldn't help the wracking cough that exploded from my lungs, this time doubling over in pain. My mother took a halting step forward as if she were going to hold me but then she stopped. The headache I had felt coming along was burning along my forehead and steadily spreading along my cheekbone. Rubbing the spot between my eyebrows, my mother's hazel eyes followed the movement horror evident in her expression.

My sister's voice was steady as she spoke, appearing at my elbow, her dark eyes surveyed me, "That man, he was a Tracker. A vampyre Tracker." She glanced from me to my mother, as something sparkled in her depths, leaning close to me she whispered, "He disappeared as soon as he Marked you, one minute he was there and then next he was gone." Her voice was filled with curiosity.

Glancing around me I noticed we were the only ones in the near vicinity, even the bustling café near the University was strangely deserted, when usually this time it was usually bustling with people, who had either just gotten out of their classes, or were waiting for their lectures to start. I thanked whatever star was watching over me for this somewhat private breakdown of my life. I had to choke down hysterical laughter at my predicament, hadn't I been moments before wishing for something to happen, and here I was given a new start.

Isn't that what being Marked was all about? Leaving everything and everyone behind, as the thought filled my mind a sense of sadness overcame me. My sister gripped my arm as I swayed on my feet, she began to slowly steer me towards the car, and she also reached down to grab my bag in her free hand. A squeak of terror caught my attention, lifting my head a barbie-doll looking girl stared at me, horror in her brown eyes as she stared at me open mouthed.

Coughing again she let out a loud scream as she darted past us, turning her face away from me in terror. I wondered if there would be girls like her at the House of Night, or strong, dependable people like my sister, or silent, quite people like me? I wondered if it would be like some cliqued High School types, which I had only just left behind only a year ago.

I didn't have an aversion to black but I didn't particularly like wearing a lot of it, my sister was the one to go to for all things black, now that I was going to the House of Night perhaps I would have to take a few items from her wardrobe (without her finding out of course, which would be quite doubtful). But judging by her generous curves, I doubt her clothes would fit my pretty much flat chest.

"Nettie, are you alright?" my mother asked from ahead of us, for once she wasn't looking at me in horror, instead she was watching me with a motherly like concern. Nodding my head, I groaned as my headache flared for a moment, but biting on my lip so the sound didn't reach her ears. I didn't want her to worry any more than she already was.

My sister opened the door to my mother's 4 year old baby blue Prius, sliding into the seat the rest of them piled in soon after, my mother staring at the road ahead. The entire ride home she never let her eyes stray from the road ahead of her and the rear view mirror. Reaching up I pulled down the sun visor and slid the little window across to stare at my reflection in the small mirror. Taking a deep prolonged breath I brushed my messy fringe out of the way and lifted my head, to stare at the familiar stranger.

I was her and she was me, but different. She had my almond shaped eyes, the same hazel, but I don't think the blue had been that pronounced with the green, brown and gold. The images staring back at me had my same unnamed hair colour, that could never be described, it was neither brown nor red nor gold but a strange intense mixture of all three. Was it always that thick and lustrous, though? The curls were a lot more tight than I remembered and not as frizzy as I thought they were, the curls ending somewhere at my waist, and curling along my breasts.

The same pronounced cheekbones and strong nose, as well as the full pink lips. And unsurprisingly my skin had always been that pale, but it seemed to glow almost, like a rich creamy ivory in colour rather than my usual pasty white. And I didn't have the strange reddish splotched of colour along my cheeks; they were more of a light dusting of pink. I raised an eyebrow at that wondering why all of a sudden I didn't have blood rushing to my cheeks, was it because of the fact that I was now a Fledgling? Was my body already undergoing the Change?

My skin seemed more luminescent now, was it because of the dark blue outline of the crescent moon on my forehead? I stared at the exotic looking tattoo, and out of the corner of my eye I could see my little brother staring at it too, his dark hazel eyes squished at the corner. He caught my eyes for a moment and his eight year old face broke out with a grin and he happily began to sing the tune to Thomas the Tank Engine.

I sighed for a moment, glad that he was too young to understand what was going on. Glancing at my face for an instant, the shock of the full effect reached me, mixed with my strange eyes and features it seemed to brand me with an ancient power of old blood. Like I belonged as a heroine in the stories that I adored so much, wielding a sword; or be-spelling someone like a witch. Just for a moment, or maybe even an instant a part of me surged with pleasure as the ancient blood of my new found people rejoiced in the coming of a new sister, a new daughter.

The drive home that usually took 15 agonizing minutes, were gone in an instant and we were pulling through the drive way, following the short path straight up to the garage door. Without so much as a backward glance at me my mother stepped out of the car, fussing with my brother as she got him out too. My sister followed suit, getting her bag from the boot of the car. I coughed for what felt like the hundredth time as I too stepped out of the car, grabbing for my bag and pulling out the keys.

I felt different. My skin seemed ultrasensitive as the sun I had been enjoying only half-an-hour before prickled along my skin, shoving the Maui Jims sunglasses on (a present from my mother), and my eyes continued, even with the shade of the glasses, to brim with tears. Even though a part of me knew it wasn't the sun that was entirely to blame. I'm dying. I thought for a split moment, but I promptly shut off that and any other thought. I glanced up at the big two-story house, that would you believe it, we only moved into at least seven months ago, but to me it still didn't feel like home, but then nowhere really felt like I belonged.

Stepping forward, I opened up the door, for the others watching with a small smile on my face as my brother raced into the house like he didn't have a care in the world and my sister stormed past, dropping her bag on the ground and following through. Distantly I heard the back door being unlocked and slammed behind her as she went to her haven outside, the swing. Right now even as my world was falling down around me I worried what me leaving would do to her, she needed me. I heard my brother start the TV upstairs, and the sound of Disney Junior filled the house.

My mother stepped past me, careful not to touch me as she did so, only to walk down the short hallway beside the stairs and walk into her bedroom, slamming the door effectively in my face. I thought I would have my Mother to myself but all I had was well… me. Practically running up the stair, I walked down the hall to my room and dumped my stuff on the bed, before I sat down beside it all and finally let the tears fall from my face, wetting the backs of my hands.

Then I took a deep breath and steadily got to my feet and began to pack. Through the floor of the second storey I could hear my mother making a hysterical phone call to dad. But then her voice turned angry as she began to yell, "She has that thing on her forehead." There was a pause, "Yes I know she has to go to the House of Night." Another lengthy pause, "I can't take her there with the kids, you're going to have to come home."

There was no doubt my father would come home, but I hoped he wouldn't just have to 'deal' with me. I was hoping it was going to be okay. My phone vibrated for a second, scrolling through the messages I found the one I was looking for, from DAD: Everything is going to be okay. After that simple text I allowed myself to relax as the tears dried from my eyes, my Father was going to take me to the House of Night and hopefully I wouldn't die before he got home.

Read and Review: I thought it would be too much of a clique to have both parents okay with this, and my Mother is a devout Catholic and when I asked her about this once she thought I was joking so I thought I could play up her reaction a little more. And my Father is also a Catholic but more laid out about it, I honestly don't think he would mind all that much.

I didn't want too much in this Chapter so the next one, she may get to the House of Night then, or there might be more family drama.

Please tell me what you think of the story so far, even though it is a little boring, it will get better when she starts her classes and the storyline goes along, because she is no ordinary Fledgling…