I am very disappointed. Only one person was able to answer my question. Well done B, you got it right! Shame on all you other Snicket "fans", but thanks for reading anyway.
This is my longest chapter ever. Be happy for me and I might change that. Be happy Violet fans – this chapter is all her.
C h a p t e r EIGHT
"Back so soon?" asked a voice as the man lead Violet into a completely dark room. It was the voice of a woman, very sharp and demanding. "Have you got those purple beanies? The kind with orange polka dots? When my friends see me with these they'll be sick with jealousy!"
"Uh, no, not yet," replied the man.
"WHAT?!!" the female voice screeched. "How can I step outside today if I haven't got my purple beanie?!"
"I'm sorry Esmé, but when I got outside, I saw this girl sitting on the ground, so I brought her up."
The woman seemed distracted. "Girl, what girl?"
The man pointed at Violet.
The woman had one look at her filthy clothes and bloodied hair and narrowed her eyes. "What did you bring her up for?" she asked stiffly.
"She's hurt," the man explained, "I couldn't just leave her."
"You should have!" the woman cried huffily, "My purple beanies are much more important." She glanced at Violet again. Violet looked up at the man. She didn't feel so good. Why was this woman so angry?
"FINE!" said the woman at last, "I'll get the purple beanies myself. I'll just have to wear the next best thing, a blue visor."
The man watched as Esmé left the room, before shaking his head. "Why does she bother?" he muttered.
He looked at Violet. "Well, let's get this blood all cleaned up." He led her to a bathroom. "My name's Jerome," he said, "What's your name?"
Violet opened her mouth. Then she closed it. Surely she hadn't forgotten her name? She wracked her brain. Her name. Her name. The last thing she remembered saying was…Goodbye? Was that her name? Probably.
"Goodbye." she said finally.
Jerome put a hand to his mouth. "Oh I'm so sorry," he said politely, "Esmé's like that sometimes, but please, don't leave because of that."
Violet stared. "I didn't mean to be rude, I was just saying, my name is Goodbye."
It was Jerome's turn to stare. "Oh. Ok." He looked apprehensive. He opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but no words came out, so he closed it.
"Err…maybe we should call your parents…?" he said, after while, looking at Violet searchingly.
Violet gasped. She suddenly remembered and her eyes filled with tears. "I've just remembered!" she cried, "I was carrying my baby sister along the road one night and then I don't remember anything else…then, later, I remember all these people and some more people…and then all these men who looked like…OLAF, yeah, that's who it was…oh no…" She sat down abruptly and put her hands over her face.
Jerome was alarmed. He jumped up, then bent over, then gave her a pat on the shoulder. "Oh, Goodbye," he begged, panic ringing in his voice, "please don't cry! Tell me what's wrong."
Violet wiped her eyes, then sat up straight, her face like stone. "You wanna know everything?" she asked flatly?
Jerome nodded meekly.
"My name is Violet Baudelaire. Me and my siblings were at a beach when our house burnt down and killed our parents. We were sent to live with a horrible man called Olaf and he locked my sister in a birdcage and treated us like dirt. He tried to marry me to get our money but married my brother instead. I lost my sister, but I don't remember how." She said this all in one breath and Jerome looked quite shocked.
Then, as the impact of her words hit her, Violet jumped up, grabbed Jerome's sleeve and started shaking it. "MY BROTHER IS MARRIED TO A MURDERER AND MY BABY SISTER IS ALL BY HERSELF IN THE HUGE WORLD. WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO?!!"
Jerome thought for a while, then said, "I'm going to clean that blood off of your head and give you a nice, warm cocoa. Nice, warm cocoas always cheer me up when I'm sad."
Violet looked at Jerome in anguish.
Later, when Violet calmed down a bit and was drinking her nice, warm cocoa, Esmé entered holding her purple beanies with orange polka dots.
"Well Jerome, you'll never believe who I just bumped into today."
"Who?" Jerome asked.
"The most handsome man in the world – my drama teacher. He talked about some nasty brat he married and how he didn't get to be rich, but he'll think of a way. He did fill the kid's bed with honey." Esmé beamed, "Oohoo, imagine what that'll be like, the kid will be sorry he ever messed with—"
"That's interesting," interrupted Jerome, "But, I have someone I'd like you to meet."
Esmé looked at the ceiling. "It's that girl you found isn't it? Very well Jerome, introduce her."
Jerome winked at Violet. "Here we have…Violet!"
Violet waved half-heartedly.
Esmé rolled her eyes. "Good, good, now if she's all cleaned up, maybe you could take her home?"
Jerome grinned. "The thing is, Esmé, Violet doesn't have a home. Her parents died in a fire. Can we adopt her?"
Esmé laughed, "Don't be silly Jerome, we can't adopt her. Orphans' are out. If we adopt her, that will ruin my reputation as the city's sixth most import financial advisor."
"I thought it was seventh."
"I got promoted." She looked at Violet. "We cannot adopt an Orphan. Take her home."
"I don't want to argue, but Violet has no where to go. And a villain named Olaf is after her. He wants the Baudelaire fortune!"
Esmé looked up sharply. "Did you say Baudelaire?"
"Yes. Violet is a Baudelaire. Violet Baudelaire." Jerome looked at Esmé suspiciously. "Why?"
"Oh no reason," replied Esmé casually, "I guess if this villain is after her…we better keep an eye on her." Looking very smug, Esmé left the room.
Jerome grinned widely and winked at Violet. "Ha ha kiddo!" he laughed, "I guess I'm your "parent" now!"
Violet smiled hesitantly and looked away.
Some birds don't actually have wings, but please review my story anyway.