As the Rolling Meadows Nursery School was seeing its final days, Rockwell Primary School was soon to experience its own horrors as well.

At the end of every month, due to the school's high number of low-income students, the lower grades were visited by five student aids from St. Teresa of Avila Academy, which was just down the road. On the day of Rose's birthday, the student aide for year one was none other than thirteen-year-old Heather Marsh, the youngest daughter of Violet and Tom Marsh. She had shoulder-length blonde hair, was generally good-natured while also being assertive when she felt she needed to be, and inherited the high level of curiosity and passion for justice which were a large part of the personalities of her parents.

When Rose saw her entering the classroom, she waved eagerly, and Heather immediately smiled and walked up to her. "Don't think I forgot your birthday, Rose," she said, handing her a small card with an electric guitar topping off a three-layered birthday cake and a mini Hershey's chocolate taped to the tip of the card.

"Thanks, Heather," Rose whispered, since she didn't want to attract the attention of her classmates.

However, more than a couple of the kids took notice of the student aide's little present to the class scapegoat, and they were not pleased about it.

What a loser she must be if only the aide gives her a card for her stupid birthday.

No way am I giving saying happy birthday to that loony, even if Ms. Bryan gets mad at me.

So she thinks she's a rock star? She really must be nuts.

Will she try getting something from John Smith as well?

Hearing all of these hidden insults, Rose tried to turn her back from all of them, focusing on creating a good picture with the broken crayons Ms. Bryan had placed on all their desks before class started. Today was art day, meaning drawing and a lesson on painting.

"Thank you for coming here, Heather," Ms. Bryan said in that friendly tone she used whenever she was trying to get someone to feel welcome into the classroom. "It's nice having someone who's friendly with the kids for once. Our last aide was a little… different, I suppose."

Last month, they'd been served by Magda Wilson, a stubborn redhead who'd sulked around the whole time Ms. Bryan didn't have her occupied and gave the kids those same dirty looks that older siblings gave them when they were annoyed. Rose had heard what her mummy called "very vulgar language" coming out of her mind, and it could easily be guessed that she wouldn't be returning in October.

"I know what you mean, Ms. Bryan," Heather said with a nod. "The only time you can ever get Magda Wilson to do anything is if she's sure she'll be getting…"

"No need to get into details, dear. Just start passing out the paint and brushes."

Heather started gathering the twenty bottles of paint that were stored in the large closet which was in the middle of the classroom. Many of the things in there were so old that they were fully covered in dust, including two of the four oversized brushes for which the kids were always fighting among themselves in order to be able to use. Heather, who was usually used to everything being a little untidy or dirty, almost considered leaving those brushes along with the yellowing paper and crayons which looked like they'd been bought fifty years ago. However, she decided there couldn't be much harm in them and placed them along with all the other art supplies.

As she passed everything out, some of the kids were whispering among themselves. One boy started chuckling in a rather mean-spirited matter, and the girl sitting beside him pointed at the table where Rose was sitting. As soon as he saw Heather, the chuckling boy yanked one of the dusty brushes out of the cart, along with a bottle of pure red paint, without a smear of some other color in it.

"What's with the rush?" Heather asked.

"Nothing. We just like art, okay?" the boy responded, sounding annoyed.

"All right, mate. No need to get all worked up about it," Heather said, doing her best not to get too upset over the boy's attitude.

"Have you got it all, Kenny?" the boy sitting next to him whispered.

"Yeah," Kenny answered, and they all started getting to work.

Rose had not noticed what was going on at this table. As Heather came by once again, she was still trying to work on her drawing, yet there was this look of anxiety on her face, almost as if she wanted to avoid something which she couldn't name. Upon handing her two bottles of yellow and purple paint and the other dusty brush, Heather wondered if she should ask her if something was wrong or just let her be. Upon thinking about, she suspected that there was something Rose wished to discuss with someone but she just couldn't, and that all the other kids had a part on this. She had not failed to notice the cruel glances some of them had given her after handing her the card, so she decided that the best way to help Rose was to avoid drawing any attention towards her, and after handing all the essential supplies to the kids at her table, she just moved on.

By the time everything was handed out, Kenny and his friends had completed their secret task. Ms. Bryan and Heather went to the headmistress' office to get some paperwork, so now was the perfect opportunity to put their plan to action. Olivia Gordon, who was seated the closest to Rose, threw the large piece of paper under her chair. Upon seeing that something was on the ground, Rose looked down and got a hold of the paper. It was shaped in a rather clumsy manner like a Hallmark card, but on the cover, there was what appeared to a red flower marked by a big X around it. On the inside, with the same red paint, this was written:

GET LOST

Upon reading this, Rose's face turned the same color as the paint which adorned the card. Kenny and his friends went hysterical with laughter, and several of the other kids turned around to get a look. But her humiliation wasn't over yet.

"Happy birthday, Red Rose!" Kenny yelled, and then he dumped what remained of the red paint all over her.

Rose shrieked in horror, and now, nearly all the kids joined in the chorus of laughter. "Happy birthday, Red Rose!" they sang, pointing at her with their thumbs, and one boy even gave her the middle finger. "Happy birthday to you, loony!"

John Smith, where are you? Was all Rose could think. I need you! John Smith, I need you!

But instead of seeing John Smith, she saw a young woman with unruly brown hair coming out of the storage closet. Her eyes were bloodshot, and the back of her neck was twisted around, looking seriously disfigured. When she saw Rose, she gave her a frightening smile, like one which would come out of a witch.

"Guess I should join the party as well, don't you think so, birthday girl?" she said in a raspy voice, sounding like someone who was ill. "Come on, little girl, give me a nice smile." And then, she sang in a high-pitched voice, "Happy birthday, Red Rose! Happy birthday to you!" finishing off with a hysterical laugh.

Rose let out a blood shattering scream just as Heather Marsh opened the door of the classroom. "Rose! What happened to you? What did they…"

At that moment, all the lights went off, leaving the classroom and the whole school in full darkness. Now, there were horrific screams heard all over Rockwell Primary School, and Rose's tormenters were probably the most frightened of them all.

The only child who wasn't screaming at that moment was Rose, whom had collapsed onto the floor as soon as the room went black, and the last thing she had heard were not Heather's concerning questions, but the crazy woman's laughter, which had gone on in her mind until she had blacked out.

An hour later, Rose was lying down on a bed at the nurse's office of St. Teresa of Avila Academy. A middle-aged woman with a dark dress and a wooden cross around her neck was going over something in a desk, and seated on the bed was Heather Marsh, who was looking down at her with a mixture of both sadness and relief.

"Sister Joan, I think she's awake," Heather called out to the nun who also happened to be the school nurse.

Sister Joan walked up to them with a cold glass of water and a thermometer. "How is she?" she asked.

"She looks a bit pale, but I don't think she's seriously sick," Heather responded. "Like I said before, she didn't look like there was anything physically wrong with her at school. What was wrong was that she was nervous about something, and right when I walked back into the class, she was all covered in red paint with everyone laughing at her. It was at that moment that the lights went out and she fell to the ground."

"Where am I?" Rose finally managed to ask.

Heather held her hand and said, "We're at my school. As a matter of fact, everyone is. There was a blackout at Rockwell, and right when it happened, you must have had some sort of fright, because you just collapsed onto the floor. Some of the other kids started falling as well, but they're fine now. I think you're the only one who might have fainted."

"Did you see anything that was strange when you got in?" Rose said. She didn't care if she sounded crazy at this point. She just had to know if anyone else saw the woman.

"Just you covered in red paint with all those buggers laughing at you," Heather responded, shaking her head in frustration. "If it hadn't been for the blackout, I would have gotten back at them somehow. I don't think I've ever seen such nasty little brats in my life!"

"Now, Heather," Sister Joan demanded, "What are we always telling you all about revenge?"

Heather sighed. "An eye for an eye is not the way to go, but forgiveness can lead us anywhere. I understand that, but you should have seen those kids for yourself, Sister Joan. They seem to have no respect for anyone, not if they can do such an awful thing to one of their schoolmates. As a matter of fact, I think it was the humiliation that caused Rose to have that blackout."

"Nonsense, my dear. Humiliation can cause all sorts of things, but that alone can't cause illness. I think the girl might have some undiagnosed condition. Her teacher said there had been at least two other incidents like this on her medical records from nursery school. Rose should get a medical diagnosis as soon as possible."

But Rose was hearing none of this. Instead, she was seeing herself two years ago during the first time she'd had those blackouts. She had been alone in her mother's room, looking at some of the papers her mother was using to write a novel in and tossing them around when she was done looking at them. It was all so difficult for her to read that she wondered how anyone would be interested in it at all.

Within a couple of minutes, her mummy, who had been alone in the dining room drinking a glass of beer, had pushed the door open in rage. Some kind of force seemed to have control over her, which made her become cruel and angry for no particular reason. At the time, what triggered this was seeing everything she had been working on for the last couple of months in complete disorder, scattered all over the floor as if it were all just rubbish; something which wasn't worthy of being seen by anyone. It felt as if her own daughter were deliberately insulting her.

"What the hell are you doing here, Rose? Haven't I told you thousands of times not to set foot in my bloody room if I'm not in here?" she screamed.

"But mummy," Rose had said in a frightened tone. "I wanted to see them. I wanted to see the stories…"

"Stay away from them! They're not for you! They should never have been seen by you at all!"

"But who will, mummy?"

Just then, Jackie had had enough. She'd shoved Rose with all the strength she'd had within her, and something had snapped as Rose fell to the floor. It had been her arm's bone, and the pain had caused her to scream in agony. This had resulted in a slap in the cheek and another push. This time, everything around Rose had instantly gone black…

"Rose? You okay?" Heather asked, noticing that the anxiety was returning.

"Are you sure you saw nothing else in the classroom?" was all Rose could ask.

Heather gave Sister Joan a worried glance and said, "I'm sure. Try not to think about that right now. I called my dad a while ago, and he said he was going to pick you, me, and Mickey up. Might even take you guys out for pizza if you're up for it."

"Have you tried calling my mummy yet?"

"She couldn't be reached," Sister Joan said.

"What about Sarah Jane?"

"She's supposed to be working on some project today. Just yesterday, I told her that I was going to be assisting your class, and she told me to say happy birthday for her," Heather said, looking a little sad.

"This is not a good birthday," Rose said unhappily.

"Of course it isn't, but we could at least try making this afternoon a little better. Is that all right with you?"

"Sure."

Heather hugged her and gave her the glass of water and some crackers. Sister Joan went outside to assist some of the teachers and students who were in the halls, many of whom were still deeply frightened. By the time Tom Marsh arrived at the school, there were four other people being assisted at the nurse's office, and Rose had almost fully recovered from the blackout.

Tom Marsh, a man of average height who still spoke in an Irish accent after living in England for twenty-seven years (he was from Northern Ireland) and who was almost the complete opposite of his wife when it came to temperament, shook Sister Joan's hand and even greeted some of the nervous teachers before walking up to Rose and his daughter

"Hi there, sweetheart. Are you ready to go now?" he asked Rose gently.

"I think so."

"Don't be afraid to talk to us about it if you want to. Is that okay?"

"Sure."

Tom nodded and then escorted the girls out of the office. Mickey, who had been waiting quietly for over an hour to see Rose, came along with them. They left just as many others stayed behind, remaining just as nervous and unsure of things as before.

If Tom had been around at the time of the blackout, he would have been completely aware of what was going on. He'd known about Sarah Jane's ESP since university, where she'd had a blackout quite similar to the one Rose had after being given too much alcohol at a party when they were freshman. Just as his daughter Heather was now the one who'd helped Rose, he and Violet had been the ones who'd taken Sarah to the university's infirmary and had helped the school's authorities track down the ones responsible for the incident. Sarah had told them everything about her powers after her recovery, and from that moment on, the three of them had become inseparable, with Tom and Violet remaining her most loyal friends for years to come.

However, because he got there after it was all over, Tom Marsh did not suspect that Rose had just experienced something similar, and Rose did not say a word about it to the Marshes on that day.