Chapter 2

Shoving clothes into suitcases by the arm fulls, the pair said not a word just worked in sync, gathering only the bare minimum for their journey. Of course, Misty mostly did the packing while Cordelia, in a surprisingly calm voice, directed her on what to take which consisted of a few articles of clothing, her and her mothe-Fiona's jewels, and various other trinkets that might be worth something. Not that she needed to the money. She had quite the nest egg herself.

"Alright, Ms. 'Delia. I think that's 'bout it." Misty heaves, having been moving nonstop for the better part of twenty minutes the girl sounded as if she just ran a marathon. Cordelia feels a pang of guilt in her chest, if she weren't blind, she could have been of some use.

Her emotions must have played across her face because a hand grasps her own. "Don't worry, Ms. 'Delia. When we get outta of here I wanna try my mud on your eyes."

"You think it will help?" Cordelia questions, her bottom lip quivering.

"Well yeah, I mean if it can bring back skin a bone than eyes shouldn't be a problem." Misty states but it comes out more like a question and Cordelia can just picture those dark innocent blue eyes staring at her waiting for an approval. Cordelia swivels her head to where she assumes the girl is and smiles reassuringly. "We'll just have to find out." She gives the hand still clutching her own a gentle squeeze. And she could just feel the bright grin directed her way.

"Alright now, grab the gas can." The hand slips from her own and she hears footfalls and a slush of liquid in the plastic container. "You need to pour it everywhere, in each room, leave no floor untouched is that understood."

A couple of seconds of silence passes. "Okay."

She hears a splash upon the hardwood floor followed by the burning strong scent of gasoline. Sorrow grasps her heart.

There was no turning back now.

All it takes is a single wave of a hand and Cordelia's past, her life, all those dreams erupt into flames. She feels the nearly unbearable heat upon her face; its harsh glow illuminating the depressing silvery trails tracked down her cheeks. A hand grasps her bicep. "C'mon, Ms. 'Delia. We need to go."

The headmistress nods, reaching upward she quickly wipes away the lingering traces of tears and allows the girl to lead her away toward the car. "Do you know how to drive?"

"A lil bit." A pause. "My daddy taught me some."

Cordelia sighs, mentally cursing herself for not asking before. "Well, it should be enough to get us to the bus stop."

"Yeah,"

To her surprise though the girl drove pretty smoothly with only a slight jerk here and there mostly when they came to stop signs. Once they reached the bus-stop Cordelia could only imagine the odd looks cast their way. A blind regal obliviously wealthy woman walking hand in hand with a whimsical gypsy girl. Yes, heads were bound to turn. She felt Misty gently lead her to an unoccupied seat and felt a whoosh of air in the next moment when they girl slid in beside her.

"I've never rode on a bus before." Misty states her voice full of excitement and wonder. Cordelia smiles warmly. "Me either." Which is true but what she didn't add is that Fiona more or less forbade her to ride in one. She recalled the one time she built up enough courage to ask her mother if she could. "You're the daughter of the Supreme, Cordelia, not some goddamn dollar store employee." Her mother replied and it took her a moment to even figure out just what the hell that meant.

"You alright, Ms. 'Delia?" Misty Day's sweet Cajun accent pulls her out the memories.

"Yes." She clears her throat. "Yes, I'm fine." From then on the journey was a silent one with only the sound of the engine and the occasional cough here and there

When they arrived in the nearest largest city nearby they exited and found a local diner. As they munched on their selective food-a burger for Misty, a salad for Cordelia- they began to plan.

The house was enormous; snow white with forest green shutters and pillars it sat in the center of a vast lush green yard with flowerbeds outlining the base. Large oaks and willows towered in various thought out places with not a dead leaf around them. Of course, Cordelia could not see but Misty was all too happy to describe it.

It was beautiful, warm, and most importantly it was home.

Years pass and the two settle into a routine with surprising ease. One serious and bookish, the other free and wild; their personalities complemented one of another and brought out the best in each other. Not to mention their appearance. Cordelia, semi-blind now thanks to the healing mud that was applied to her eyes nightly, and Misty in her layers of multicolored clothes. Needless to say, they made a very odd pair.

It begins with just a few causal brushes of skin against skin, which ended each time with both women blushing and stuttering out apologies, gradually though, the touches lingered as did their eyes.

Then one Spring, lips finally met lips in a field of goldenrods and warm sunshine. It was magical, romantic and horribly cliché, but oh so wonderful. Their relationship from then on blossoms and blooms like the flowers surrounding them that day.

Bag of groceries in one hand and cane grasped clumsily in the other Cordelia stumbles through the kitchen door. "Misty!"

No answer.

"Misty, I need some help with the groceries!"

She slides the bag on the counter and huffs. For Christ's sakes where was that woman? Cordelia decides to have a look around, figuring she may in the garden. Entering the living room, she begins to make a beeline for the backdoor with a single-minded purpose. Consequently not seeing the figure currently lounging by the fireplace.

"Evening,"

Cordelia freezes mid-step. Dread skitters down her spine. She knows that voice. Knows it very well. It's the same one from every one of her nightmares and monsters under her bed.

Fiona