Rose knocked again for the tenth time.

And each knock went unanswered.

Both adults were beginning to lose their patience.

Esme was a stubborn child, if not sweet. And she knew what she wanted. If she did not want to see you, your quest was hopeless.

Ever since she lost her sight, something developed inside of her in order to compensate with the fragility and vulnerability that came with being blind, especially at such a young age. And it became all the more profound with the loss of her parents.

Something had died within her when she lost her sight, and she died a second time with the deaths of her parents.

The child that once knew happiness, was no more. At such a young age, she learned the meaning of hatred. What it meant for her to die and to actually survive. And something had to take the place of the innocence that she lost. For the world was no longer a haven of green meadows and gentle brooks, it was no longer a place for flowers that could be easily crushed by life's brutal force.

She was like a sleeping volcano. A seemingly benign flame that could easily deceive the unsuspecting. That raging fire she kept within her locked away and concealed within the confines of her young heart; where no blunt force of life's precarious cycle could ever snuff it out.

Esme needed that fire to stay alive.

"Esme, darling. Please open the door, there's a nice gentleman to see you." Rose said, withdrawing her hand from the door. It was no use.

Eugene O' Hara turned to look at Rose and said, "May I?"

"I don't know what good it could do, but..." Rose said, defeated. She stepped aside as Eugene took her position at the door.

"Mistress Esme?"

There was still no answer.

"Mistress Esme, your grandmother sent me here. She wants me to take you to London to live with her-"

Esme was listening. She sat herself up from the ground. She was debating weather or not to open the door.

But she wanted to. She remembers her grandmother, faintly of course. She was only three when she first met her. But, she desperately needed familiarity, despite the lack of a more tangible reminder. She was so tired of change, so tired with the company of strangers.

She wanted to open the door now.

"Please open the door Mistress," Eugene continued, "Your grandmother even had me bring you a present, someone to keep you company during our journey."

Eugene bent down in his tall form and set down the medium square box he held on the floor. Carefully, he untied the string and removed the brown paper.

Inside, Esme could hear a package being opened. Curiosity was now drawing her closer to the door. She had placed her shoes on and was standing at the center of the room. Still somehow hesitant.

She could hear Eugene's voice again.

"Her name is Claudia, Mistress. Your grandmother wanted you to have her." He said, desperately hoping for any sign that the child would respond.

"Its no use..." Rose started to say.

They were both about to make a move to leave; somehow trying to formulate a different form of strategy, when they heard the door click. That strange sound of metals twisting together.

At first both adults thought it was their imagination, a figment of a fantasy, but soon the door opened.

The figure of a little girl poked through the door. Her wild curls was framing her lovely face. A ghost-like pallor in contrast to her black dress. She was such a pale little thing. Her eyes were glossy, unfocused and unsure.

Rose whispered to Eugene, "She's been blind since she was four. Be gentle when you speak to her."

Eugene knelt to Esme's eye level, and gently took her hand as he handed her the beautiful doll.

It was the most exquisite doll, with a delicate china-face and curly black hair. It was wearing a charming purple dress with aquamarine eyes.

Esme held the doll close. Not saying anything.

"Do you like her?" Eugene asked.

He watched her nod.

"Would you like to go see your grandmother now, Mistress Esme?"

"Yes." She replied quietly.

"Alright, before we do so. I think Madam Rose would like to help you prepare before we leave." Eugene stepped aside to allow Rose through.

"Oh Esme, sweetheart. Are you alright darling?" Rose said worriedly as she picked up Esme in her arms.

Rose turned to Eugene, "I think it best, that she eat first before the journey, sir. She's lost weight."

"Of course, certainly. I"ll simply await her in the foyer."

"Very well."

Rose watched Eugene leave.

She set Esme down and crouched low to speak to her. Rose was finally able to breath a sigh of relief.

Rose tucked a stray lock of her hair behind her ear, "Are you hungry?"

Esme nodded.

"Alright. That's good, I have some sweet rolls downstairs, you like sweet rolls, darling?" Said Rose as she took the child's little hand.

They started to walk, but then Esme stopped abruptly.

"What is it, darling?"

Without looking up. Esme said, "Daddy's not coming back."

"Oh sweetheart. I'm so sorry." Rose replied, somehow uncertain with her words. She did not what to say to say to give her some semblance of peace.

She made a move to give her a hug. That instinctual act of comfort, but Esme didn't want to be touched.

"I'm hungwy, Rose." She said quietly.

Her governess was taken aback at the strange new personality Esme has developed. "Yes. Of course, come on." She said, sounding a little perplexed as they continued their walk through the long corridors.

Rose set Esme down on one of the chairs and gave her large helpings of eggs, ham and bread.

Esme found herself starving. But yet, she ate very slowly, she savored the taste of the bread and chewed quietly.

The sugary consistency of the bread's outer layer tasted good against her tongue. For a moment, she felt a little better.

Esme drank a tall glass of water and fresh juice. She was really thirsty.

After she had eaten, Rose took her back up stairs where she would prepare the young child to her journey to London.

Rose was the first to enter Esme's room. She accidentally stepped on the broken pieces of the ceramic rabbit that Esme had thrown.

"What in good heavens-"

While Rose was preoccupied in her room.

Esme wandered further out into the corridor, still carrying her new doll. She wanted to be in her mother's room one last time.

Rose had to sweep up the remnants of the broken figurine. Shortly after disposing of the broken pieces, she went back up the stairs to commence packing Esme's clothes and belongings in a large trunk.

The petite governess started to straighten out Esme's bed and returned all of her toys into their proper place. She then proceeded to Esme's closet, and selected a number of dresses with matching hats and shoes for her to bring.

As she held a delicate pink dress Esme had worn once, with all its girly frills and childish ribbons; a feeling suddenly overcame her. And Rose knew, she was going to miss that child terribly.

Thirty minutes later, Rose completed the packing that was necessary.

Eugene O' Hara watched her come down the stairs with a heavy looking trunk.

He met her halfway.

"Allow me, madam." He said as he took the burden from her hands.

Rose stared at him for a long moment, "Take care of her, will you?"

"Of course, madam. She'll be well cared for." He smiled gently at Rose. His wrinkles were lining clearly around his eyes and mouth.

Rose nodded.

"Where is the little Mistress?"

"I'll go find her." Rose replied.

"Alright, I shall place this in the car."

She watched him heave the trunk on his shoulder, and exited to the front door.

Rose went back up the stairs.

"Esme? Esme, darling. Its time to go," Rose called out as she walked into the hallway.

It was empty. Which was odd, she saw the child there a few minutes ago.

She retraced her footings and returned to Esme's room.

"Esme?" She called out, but the room was empty.

A silent alarm was ringing in her chest.

She ran to the west wing of the house - empty.

"Mr. O' Hara!" Rose shrieked as she ran down the last flight of steps, and out to the front door.

Eugene was waiting beside the automobile.

"Madam, I don't want to be rude, but the journey ahead is quite long and strenou-"

"Esme's gone!" She yelled.

His eyes went wide. "Calm yourself, woman. What do you mean gone?"

"I can't find her. You've got to help me!"

"Alright, let's go back into the house."

Both of them searched all four corners of the house. Nothing.

They searched high and low, hither and thither, but it was almost as if she vanished.

They were back in the foyer. Rose was frantic.

"Could it be that someone has taken her?" She found herself trembling.

"No, no. Impossible. We were here the whole time."

"Then where is she?!"

Eugene had no answer.

But then, Rose suddenly realized it.

She knew where Esme was.

Eugene watched Rose suddenly run up the stairs. He vainly tried to follow her.

He had no idea what she was on.

She ran so fast that he lost her down in one of the corridors.

"Madam," He said breathlessly. Dear lord his knees were aching.

He turned a sharp corner, and saw Rose standing in the doorway of a room.

She was as stiff as a stick.

He walked briskly to her, feeling utter confused and tired, "What in the world is happ-"

He noticed her eyes were transfixed on something. He followed her gaze.

There inside the room was a small little girl, asleep on her mother's bed. A perfume bottle was spilled beside her.

She was fast asleep.

In a world of silent dreams and forgetfulness.

Esme did not know how long she had been asleep, but the last thing she remembered was being picked up from her mother's bed.

The journey from the countryside and back to the city was long and dragging.

Esme was drifting back and forth from consciousness. She stayed asleep, but she could feel the wheels of the car creak from the stones and uneven roads. The noisy engine was like a roaring lion.

It took them three hours before they reached the main city, and by then it was early evening.

London. England's jewel. It was a city that was cultured and cultural. A beautiful city with a historical past, a rich present, and an abundant future. It was a different world. The people were poised and sophisticated; with an understated elegance and a regal sort of manner, if not charming. A far cry from the world Esme lived in.

In the countryside, the only noise that ever disturbed the peace was the weather. But in London, there were the sounds of automobiles, sometimes carriages, and a lot of people out and about in the streets. You could easily hear them, the sound of heels against the cobblestones.

It was nine when they arrived in Clementine's house.

Esme's grandmother lived in a large home, near the main city of London. Their house was located on Rosewood street, number seven. The one with the small garden of Pansies. The houses in that part of London were situated quite closely together, so each house had its own neighbor. Her house also happened to be near the town square. A few blocks away near a small but charming park. During the day, sweet old ladies would roam about singing lovely songs as they sold flowers. But tonight, the park was empty and the night was beginning to settle, with heavy clouds dancing in the heavens. The only light in the darkness were the dazed and yellow streetlamps.

Esme was half awake in the automobile.

She could hear voices, slowly she felt herself being picked up again.

She sensed that they were entering a house, the air was cold outside. But once inside Clementine's house, it was blessedly warm.

The house had a strange smell. It smelled of saffron, sage and that other thing, potpourri.

"She fell asleep on the way, Mistress."

It was Eugene's voice, he was the one who was carrying her.

"The poor dear. What a beautiful child, she has her mother's hair. She's grown so much." The voice sounded of a lady in her early sixties. She had a lovely speaking voice, a little low but with a rich timbre, and a feminine tone.

This woman, Esme guessed, was her grandmother.

"Where is her room Mistress?"

"Up the stairs, to the left, next to mine. Careful not to wake her."

"Yes, Mistress."

"By the way, Mistress. Are you aware of her problem? Her sight?"

"Yes, Eugene. Her father informed me. We'll have to take extra precaution, and care with my granddaughter. I don't want any more accidents. The child has suffered enough."

"Very good, madam."

"Off you, go."

Eugene reached the top of the stairs, when Clementine called him again.

"Eugene, have the cook prepare a large breakfast for Esme will you? I don't want my grandchild starving in the morning."

"Yes, Mistress."

The last thing Esme remembered, was being placed on a fragrant downy bed. She held Claudia tighter and fell back into a deep slumber.

A/N: Hey darlings! Hope you enjoyed this one. I thank you all for the lovely reviews, they are making me delirious with happiness. Do it again. ;)

Chapter 5 already? ;D Ooooooo. ;)

God Bless my angels!