"Grace?" Taylor hears her mother calling out for her as she glances up from her book while she lounged at the foot of the large maple tree in the backyard of their home.
Seeing her mother coming towards her in her elegant, patterned dress, Taylor adjusts herself in her spot as she looks up to her mother, her emerald eyes illuminating under the sunlight.
Standing in front of her, her mother frowns as she says to her daughter, "I got another call from the headmaster. Why are you so combative, girl, do you not realise how close you were getting expelled?"
Telling her how Headmaster Ortega called about Taylor getting into another fight at school, her mother wearily sighed as she grew concerned about her daughter's academic future.
It took some convincing for the headmaster not to go through with his threat, but he warned her the next time he wouldn't be forthcoming.
Looking to the ground as she knew she was in trouble; Taylor felt her mother's presence beside her as she sat beside her daughter.
"Grace why are you doing this?" her mother asked.
Pitifully looking away, Taylor replies, "She started it first!"
A girl in her class had been pushing her buttons since the day they met and today was the day Taylor couldn't handle it anymore.
Listening to her, her mother then asks, "What happened?"
Rubbing her eyes as she averted her mother's gaze, Taylor says, "She called me a bastard!"
Light teasing, Taylor took, but being called a bastard hurt her far worse than any name calling.
Fine, she got into fights with her classmates before, but this one was far different than any fight she normally incited.
"I'm not… I'm not a bastard…" Taylor shook her head as she tried desperately refrain herself from bursting into tears as she felt her mother's embrace, her cooing in her ear.
It was the insult hat broke the camel's back and Taylor reacted poorly to being called a bastard, her mind went blank, only when she recovered did, she see what she done before the headmaster promptly escorted her to the office where he gave her a tongue lashing of a lifetime.
Despite the words he shouted, Taylor didn't react as she did when she was called a bastard.
"You mustn't let words get to you, Grace," her mother lightly chided her for getting into a fight, but Taylor thought differently.
Looking up at her mother, Taylor weakly gestures as she insisted, "I'm not… I'm not a bastard… am I?"
Being mocked for not having a father, hurt worse than anything Taylor experienced before, and she looked to her mother for comfort.
"No… no… you're not a bastard, darling," her mother rubbed her back as she comforted her daughter.
Sniffling, Taylor asked about her father, as her mother hadn't spoken much about him, and she desired to know about him, hoping that she learn something about him that'd help her with her troubles.
Frowning as she continued to comfort Taylor, her mother replied, "He... was... a trader, darling, I always told him not to take those paths of his, but he wouldn't listen to me. Said he knew he was doing. I'm sorry darling."
Describing her late husband, her mother detailed how her father used to be a tradesman, always gone out on the road for long periods of time, and he'd taken these dangerous paths to get to areas quicker than others, though she argued with him more than once about their safety.
Still, her husband refused to listen to reason, believing he was right in his way, and that these paths allowed him easy access to trade routes that others knew nothing about, too afraid to branch out from familiar routes.
She had a nasty fight with him the last time she saw him, and he gone outside and never came home, again.
Few months later, Taylor came into this world, and her mother spent much of her energy raising the girl, that the thought of another suitor just wasn't possible.
Suppose she was afraid of a repeat of her marriage, that her latest suitor would be just like her late husband, too stubborn to reason, and inconsiderate on top of everything else.
She also had Taylor to consider, as well, one wrong suitor, well what horrible unimaginable things could happen?
"Remember, darling, words have meanings, but ignorant fools don't know them," her mother tried coming up with something to soothe her daughter's troubles.
It's been difficult for them both, her being a single mother in an uptight community filled with types that get on her at times for it and Taylor being the only fatherless girl in her school.
Moving wasn't an option for them, there weren't many homes close to good schools, and even then, the schools have been shored up with applications even before Taylor was born, further adding to the compounding problems.
There were things that even her mother couldn't do.
It's not what Taylor wanted to hear, but her mother swears that it'll be better, all Taylor needed to do's learn to control her outbursts, and if she must act against slights by her peers, do better.
"If they cannot see it, can they really prove it?" Her mother summed.
The dream went away, Taylor's heavy eyes finally opened, dazed, and confused, she groggily moved her head, to find she's on a cold floor, in the air she smelled industrial cleaners.
Her hand moved stiffly, feeling hadn't returned quite yet, as she attempted to force herself from the ground, blood rushing from her head back to her feet as she attempted to recover.
"Hm..." she struggled to speak as her mind swirled, trying to catch up.
Groggily, she glances around, seeing that she's in a basement somewhere.
There's carts and tables on wheels, plastic lining them, medical equipment scattered around all corners, soft white lights above, but nobody else in the basement except Taylor.
"Mhm-mhm," Taylor felt her mind finally catching up.
Paul was the first one who fell on the ground unconscious, she tried helping him, but she felt a sharp pain in her neck.
Desperately, she reached up to her neck and grabbed whatever offending thing hurt her, ripped it out of her neck, the pain intolerable.
Blood oozed from her wound, near soaked her collar and shoulder, but it was too late, she was unconscious just like Paul.
"Pah..." she tried calling out to him, but the effects of the sedatives still weighed heavily on her as she groggily started moving around the basement, slowly acclimating herself back to walk, like a calf learning to walk.
Slow and purposely, she moved, feel her mind swaying back and forth.
"Pah...ul..." Taylor once attempted, but it felt like she was learning to speak for the first time.
Glimpsing around, Taylor noticed Rebecca nowhere in the basement.
Forcing air down her throat as she concentrated, Taylor spoke out, "Rebecca?"
She didn't respond and despite Taylor's attempt, she wasn't in the basement.
"Paul?" Taylor tried finding him, hoping he was somewhere in the basement, but the man wasn't in the basement with her, either, and he wasn't responding when she tried reaching out to him in her mind.
Tensions rising, Taylor hobbled as she panicked and grabbed something to use as a weapon, a long curtain rod left in a box of supplies.
Seeing the age of the items in the basement, they're not too old, some practically brand-new, and it confused Taylor on where she was, until her mind remembered the story of a hospital somewhere in the forest.
"No..." she tried finding reason, but no reason came.