Remember

Never Explore A Strange House

Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings. I do not own the Island of Britain. I do own Rebecca and Mr. Treeleaf/Galadhlas. They're mine! ALL MINE! And you can't have them! HA! Sorry, got carried away there...

Authors note: Well, I hope you all like this fanfic, I hope it turns out well, and I hope you all REVIEW! Reviews I crave! Please give them to me!

For all of you that couldn't get over the fact that I spelled Britain wrong, I have reposted this chapter. I have gone through great pains to do this. For the record, I would not have posted this chapter had I realized Britain was spelled wrong, but spell check did not catch it, and I was far too busy working on plot to concern myself with it.

Also note, all responses to reviews have been removed in fear that this story will be deleted. Thanks for reviewing!

"I will now recite 'Remember' by Christina Rossetti.

Remember me when I am gone away,
Gone far away into the silent land;
When you can no more hold me by the hand,
Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.
Remember me when no more, day by day,
You tell me of our future that you plann'd:
Only remember me; you understand
It will be late to counsel then or pray.
Yet if you should forget me for a while
And afterwards remember, do not grieve:
For if the darkness and corruption leave
A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,
Better by far you should forget and smile
Than that you should remember and be sad."

Rebecca took a seat, then the bell rang dismissing classes for the day. As she shoved her books into her bag, she noted how she loved that poem. She always said it was her theme in life. She was a military kid, complete with frequent moving. As soon as she got close to people, she had to leave. So, whenever she told her friends she had to leave, she quoted that to them then broke the news. She was becoming famous for it.

Rebecca was 17 years old, living in Indiana when she learned where she had to move to next.

"England! But dad! This September is my senior year of highschool! Can't we wait to move?" She pleaded. "Why did they suddenly move up the moving date?"

"Sweetie, I begged them to leave it, but they wouldn't budge. I'm so sorry Becky, but we have to move again in June," her father replied.

"But you said we wouldn't move again until I graduated! I am just starting to settle down here, get a few friends, actually figure out where stuff is around town, and now I have to move across the Atlantic!"

"I'm sorry sweetie, but I can't help it. You know that. Listen, I know that the moves are always hard for you Rebecca, but I'm sure you'll make a few friends. Remember the Kowalski's? They moved there a few years ago. You were friends with their daughter Sarah, well, we're going to be near them. See you already have a friend there."

Rebecca tried to smile as she clenched her fists in frustration and tried her best to keep her cool, but she couldn't, so she ran up to her room and cried into her pillow.

"Sweetie! Wait!" her father called, but to no avail. He sighed and gave up. There was no use in trying to console her, there never was.

The school year finished and her friends threw her a huge going away party. On June fifteenth, the family boarded a plane and flew to Great Britain.

She had been sad and upset in America, and when she reached Britain, she became depressed. She moved into her room and stayed there for two weeks, talking to no one.

One day entering the third week of her self inflicted exile she was looking out the window, when her mother came up to her room. "Rebecca, sweetheart, I know that the move has been hard on you, it's been hard on all of us, but you can't stay in your room forever. I'm sure you would like everything better if you went outside and made a few friends."

Rebecca turned towards her mother and said, "Maybe." then she turned back to her window.

"Well, if you don't want to go out on your own, I'm sure your brother wouldn't mind the company. He's made quite a few friends already, and he said a few of them have older siblings. Maybe he could introduce you to them."

Rebecca realized her mother was bent on getting her outside and when her mother had her mind bent on something, there was no use resisting. She sighed and headed towards the door of her room.

"If you are going out, I suggest you put on something besides pajama's," her mother said with a grin. She got up and left, closing the bedroom door behind her.

Rebecca mindlessly changed into a t-shirt and a pair of jeans. She pulled back her long brown hair scrunchi and headed towards the door. She left her room and made her way towards the door of the house, slipping on a pair of sandals before she exited. The first person she saw outside was the neighbor in his garden.

"Oh! 'Ello there miss! You must be the Parson's girl. Nice to meet you," he greeted. He was a sturdily built man, middle aged, with a round, good natured face and sandy blonde hair. He extended his hand to her.

She took it and said, "Nice to meet you too. My name is Rebecca."

"Mine is Henry Smith. You may call me Henry."

Rebecca just smiled.

"So, what brings you out and about, if I may ask?"

"My mother wanted me to get out of doors. She told me to meet some people, so here I am." She tried to sound light hearted and gave a smile, but it came off half hearted.

"Oh, I see. Well, if you are looking for people your age, then I suggest you find your brother and have him introduce you to his friends' older siblings. If you are looking for a good conversation, then I humbly suggest a little restaurant just down the hill and to the left. But, if you are looking for a good story, then you are in the right place."

Rebecca just looked at him and smiled. He was a different man if nothing else. She wasn't much in the mood for making friends, or conversations, so she decided to settle for a story. "I guess I could listen to a story," she replied.

"Well then, pull up a fence and I shall begin," he said gesturing to the fence that divided their yards. It was a low fence, more like a wall, made of stone. She sat on top of it cross legged and listened to his tale.

She listened, and found it quite interesting, it wasn't at all what she expected, it was about a more recent event, and seemed rather plausible, not the fairytale she had imagined hearing. She thanked him for the story and went back inside.

"Well he was interesting anyway," she thought to herself.

The next day her brother walked in her room, with out knocking and blurted out, "Wanna go explore Mr. Treeleaf's house with me today? Henry said we could go in! Oh, you probably don't know about it, well..."

"No, I don't want to, and yes I do know about the house, and Henry, and the grey boat, and his dogs."

"How?" her brother asked. His bright blue eyes as wide as saucers.

"I went outside. Duh," came the reply.

"Well, you need to get out again. Come on Becky! Pleeaaase!"

Rebecca looked at her brother who was executing the perfect puppy dog pout. She sighed, rolled her eyes, and agreed.

They were ten yards from the house when her brother asked, "I still don't believe you talked to Henry yesterday. I think you were just saying that to get me to leave you alone!" he said with a sly grin and a bright glance. The unusually bright sun glinted off his eyes, making them appear to be lit with a blue flame.

Rebecca sighed and rolled her eyes before she said, "Yes I did."

"Prove it! Tell me what it was!" Her brother challenged.

She sighed and began talking in best British accent, "Mr. Treeleaf was a strange young man, never looked a day past twenty-three, though I daresay he lived in that house ten years. Four years ago he up and left with his dogs in a little grey boat in the early morning. He had me there to help him pack his boat and shove off. He gave me the keys to house he did, and asked me to sell it for him. Well, I ne'er could do it, it bein' such a nice house and all, that I decided to take care of her mysself, almost like a museum you might say. Strange man he was, strange house. Beautiful, but strange."

Her brother nodded in satisfaction. "So you did talk to him. Wow. George and I were convinced you were going to lock yourself up in the house til you died."

"George?"

"A friend."

They reached the house. It was indeed a strange house. Small, a little larger than a cottage, but much different in appearance from a cottage. The corners of the house were upheld by large wooden beams with ornate carvings on them. The walls of the house were smooth and off white. The windows, which were many, were round at the top and square at the bottom and had thin green curtains behind them. The roof was shingled like an ordinary house, but it extended a good ways past the walls, upheld by wooden beams. The door was wood, and the doorknob was shiny and brass.

Rebecca got an strange feeling about the place, and would have turned back if it was not for the fact her brother had already unlocked the door and gone inside. She slowly followed.

The inside was brighter and larger than expected because the sun shone through the thin green curtains. It had a lofty roof, for a cottage, and was very open and spacious. The kitchen flowed into the living room which flowed into the library. There was, however, a hallway. While her brother was in the kitchen, she slowly walked down the hall. A tingling sensation was coursing through her with each step she took. Her sandal shod feet made hardly any noise on the wood floor. The first door she came to was on her right. She resolutely stretched out her hand despite her fear, grabbed the knob and opened the door. Inside was a bathroom. She gave a sigh as one does when they realized they have feared for naught. She closed the door and went to the next room, with much less anticipation. The next door contained his bedroom. She explored it and found it strange, but not captivating. He had some odd looking books lying around and his bed was ornate and quite beautiful. The blankets upon the bed were the softest things she had ever touched. She laid down on the bed, with her legs dangling off the side and thought she was lying on a cloud. Soon however, she convinced herself to get up and go on exploring. She could hear her brother calling her name from the living room.

"Becky! Becky! Where are you?"

She decided to play a trick on him. She exited the bedroom, making sure she shut it loudly behind her and called, "Over here!" she then silently snuck into the room across the hall. It was dark in this room, unlike all the others in which it was rather bright. She silently shut the door behind her just as she heard her brothers footsteps. Suddenly the footsteps stopped, and Rebecca realized she no longer was holding a doorknob, but a branch on a tree, and the light was grey and the air was cold. Suddenly a gust of wind blew, she lost her balance and she fell with a scream. She hit the ground with a thud and knew no more.

Authors note: First chapter down. Please review! I promise it gets better!