Confessions of the Five De Silva Girls
By: ChocolateEclar
Disclaimer: I don't own anything that has to do with the Mediator Series by Meg Cabot/Jenny Carroll, including Jesse (*cough*I'm begging you!*cough*).
Claimer: I may not own the fact that Jesse has five sisters (ages 6-16 when he died), but I do own who the five girls are – i.e. their personalities and names. In short, I own Juanita "Nita" De Silva, Estefana De Silva, Felicidad "Felly" De Silva, Dolores "Dolly" De Silva, and most of all Carmen De Silva. I also own their parents, uncles (except Ricardo's name), aunts, and cousins' personas and names.
To happydrummergal: More it is then. *laughs* Thanks again.
To Buri: Please refresh my memory, when did I say Owen died of an illness in "Confessions…" I honestly can't remember ever saying that. (Then again, I have a poor memory at times.) Also, where did I say what Maria's middle name is, and where did it say it was Teresa in the series? Next time, can you be a little more specific? Thanks for reviewing, but can't you say anything else about this? *laughs* Then again, just answer my other questions please. ^_^
UPDATE (5/1/04): I found the part in Darkest Hour where Maria's middle name is Teresa, but I still don't know where I said it was Cristina or whatever. If I knew where it was, I would fix the error…
To D'Arcy: Thank you! ^_-
A/N: Round two (or Numero Dos – I know that means Number Two, but that's what I named this) begins! We're back to Carmen…
Chapter 6: Carmen's Chronicle – Numero Dos
"What on Earth are you doing, Carmen?"
I looked up from my conversation with Margaret – a ghost – to see my hermana Felly standing over me. Margaret vanished with a simple farewell for now. Grimacing, I grumbled, "I was helping a ghost."
Felly was sixteen and a royal pain in my side. She still seemed to think I required "babying" at all hours even though I was nine years old by then. For crying out loud, I had already helped several ghosts move on – including William, who reincarnated when I was six. Of course, that made him six years younger than me… But all barriers can be overlooked for love.
Tugging on her dark braid irritably, Felly snapped, "The things Abuela has fed your brain. No wonder you're loco."
"¿Que?" I shrieked, standing up off the porch steps. "Have you gone loco yourself? You don't believe I can see ghosts? Is that it?"
"I never said –" Felly began to protest.
"Liar!" I hollered vehemently. I was always a little touchy when it came to people not believing in my abilities back then. I stormed off after that. I hurried across dry grass towards the barn where I climbed up into the loft and wouldn't come down until dinner.
How could my own family doubt me when I saw our Jesse – our dear deceased Jesse – once a week? Only Felly and Maria doubted though. Oh, and Maria's husband Felix Diego, but he doesn't count. He murdered Jesse for crying out loud!
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In those days, Felly and I never got along. Even Nita's Owen Perry couldn't stand her, and he always called us his second family. It was as I was fuming in the loft among the hay that Jesse appeared.
"Nombre de Dios. What has gotten you in such an uproar, Carmenita?" Jesse asked, appearing behind me.
Startled, I jumped and glanced back at him with wide brown eyes. Jesse was the only one who ever called me by the nickname Carmenita – and only in private. Even though we were fourteen years apart I had always felt closest to him than to my other siblings even after he died.
Taking in a deep breath, I snapped, "Don't creep up on me like that, Hector!"
The grin on his face vanished as he said, "You really must be piqued if you're calling me Hector."
I turned away, ashamed. "Lo siento, Jesse," I apologized softly.
"That is all right," Jesse said, smiling again. He sat down beside me and asked, "Now, what is troubling you, Carmenita?"
"Felly," I whispered.
"Ah. Of course. What has our Felicidad done to anger you this time?"
I explained how Felly didn't believe I could see ghosts. Jesse was silent afterwards for several moments, staring intently out the upper window of the barn. It reminded me of when a little gray bird laid her eggs in the loft, and Jesse and I had gone up to check on them everyday. Finally, the eggs hatched, and we watched as the three tiny chicks learned how to fly. We protected them from Nita's cat Dulce and eventually saw the birds fly away.
We hadn't done anything together like that since then. That was the same year Jesse was murdered after all…
"Felly doesn't mean it. That's just her way of keeping hold of reality," Jesse finally said.
"Are you sure?" I asked.
"Yes."
"I believe you then," I said.
Beaming, Jesse said, "If it weren't for you, Carmenita, I would have lost touch with reality as well."
I looked up to see he really did mean that.
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"Where are you going?" a voice called out in the still darkness of the kitchen.
Turning around from my position halfway out of the kitchen window above the countertop, I hissed, "Shhh, Jesse. I'm just going to meet a ghost."
"Then I'm coming as well," replied my older hermano.
"I'm not a newborn. I don't need help," I whispered. I was dressed in my plainest indigo dress and only one heavy petticoat to stay light but keep the cold off my legs.
"I know you're not, but you shouldn't be out alone with a stranger in the dark," Jesse insisted.
"It's only Margaret," I claimed as I hopped out the window.
"Only Margaret," Jesse repeated. I could tell his scarred eyebrow was raised in doubt even without being able to see him behind me.
"She's harmless," I added.
Jesse said nothing. He just appeared beside me with his arms crossed. "Why are you meeting this Margaret at night?" he questioned at last.
"She gets skittish when I'm not alone," I explained as we snuck across the lawn. "Besides, Felly always interrupts us otherwise."
"I see. Perhaps Felly believes in your abilities and is just looking out for you," said Jesse, keeping in stride with me.
I "humph-ed" in reply. We went to a space behind the barn and I called out, "Margaret?"
The ghost materialized then – a lanky girl with red hair and gray eyes. "Who is that?" she whispered timidly.
"That's just my brother," I replied, coming towards her. Jesse nodded – yet still eyed Margaret warily.
I should've trusted Jesse's instincts.
The next thing I knew "skittish" Margaret had thrown me at the side of the wooden barn. "I told you to come alone!" she shrieked as I cried out and landed in a heap of purple cloth in the grass. It was a good thing I come from a family of heavy sleepers and that Margaret was dead, otherwise I bet my cry or her scream would've woken them up.
"Calm down," Jesse ordered Margaret, helping me to my feet and glaring at the other deceased person.
"Calm down?" repeated Margaret. "CALM DOWN? Why should I?"
Frowning, I bit my lower lip and said, "Because how are people going to know where your body is without our help?"
Margaret calmed down then and swiftly burst into tears. This girl was more hormonal than Maria whenever she gets pregnant… Which happens a lot by the way.
Eleven times to be exact.
But let us return to the topic at hand.
"He left my body in a field and it's so unclean!" Margaret whined in between wails.
"Do you know who killed you?" I asked gently.
Jesse grimaced at that, but, strangely, Margaret didn't get upset. In fact, she looked up at the sky and sighed. "My fiancée, Edgaro, he told me he loved me, and then when I told him about how my father had lost all his fortune, he stabbed me," she explained. "I still love him though," she added, gazing at me.
She wasn't lying. I could see it in her eyes. But how could someone love the person who had murdered him or her in cold blood just because they weren't rich anymore? I may have been nine years old, but I still understood one thing: Margaret was loco.
But I couldn't exactly tell her that if I didn't want to make contact with the side of the barn again. In its place, I said, "Oh, well, can you show us where exactly your body is?"
"It's outside of Carmel-by-the-Sea," replied Margaret.
"I understand that, but where exactly?" I insisted.
"I'm…not sure," Margaret answered before vanishing.
This is why I had to go tramping about the fields outside Carmel. When I did find Margaret's body, I went flying over it and twisted my ankle.
To say I was peeved would've been an understatement. Jesse had to help me into town where I had to lie about why I was alone in a field in the first place when I "innocently spotted the body."
My ankle was sprained, but atleast I helped the poor deceased person, right?
Wrong. If I see Margaret in the afterlife – or whatever – I am tackling the brat to the ground.
Speaking of brats, have I mentioned how irritable Maria is when she's pregnant? I may have my share of children – five to be exact at my fine age of twenty eight – but if I would've been like that I would've made sure my William told me flat out to knock it off.
Dios! This is child eleven! So far there's Felix, Jr., Maria, Jr., Ricardo, Jr., Cristina, Jr., Adriana, Jr., Julio, Jr. (poor kids. What is with all that junior stuff?), Francisco, Gloria, (ummmm. Oh! Now I remember! Can't you tell I spend sooo much time with my prima and her family? Not), Margarita, and Mario.
That's way too many kids in my opinion.
It is a tradition though…one I don't plan on keeping. Five kids is enough thank you very much.
I think William agrees with me. Our own children are running around making chaos. Our oldest, Elisa, is in the corner of the room practicing on the grand piano piercingly, while the twins – Juana and Julia – were doodling pictures of the seven of us as colorful stick figures among grass and flowers. Guillermo was having a tantrum at William's feet and little baby Sofia was wailing in William's arms.
Yes, I think five is just enough for us.
Jesse just appeared in the corner of the room and is wincing at the noise. I wonder if he'll go through this experience in another life or something…
Anything's possible after all.
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A/N: Sorry this took so long. I was working on another story, and I don't even know if I'll ever post that one on the web… Not to mention I sprained my ankle and didn't feel like sitting at my computer in a position that would only harm it more. Oh well. Please review! ^__^ Next chapter: Dolly's Diary – Numero Dos. Bye!