Okay, so as you all know, I've started school again. :P With this comes classes, and with classes comes homework. Now, I'm in this, er, special-ish class thing, and we have to do a project for every quarter. Luckily for me, this quarter we're doing a literacy project, and I get to write a story! :D But unfortunately, I won't be able to write many one-shots while doing this, so I thought that I would give you one last one until I can start writing more, so, enjoy! :)

~*~*~Chapter Eight, Theme Eight: Innocence~*~*~

The five-year-old sobbed once more, dryly, because her tears had long since receded. She still felt like crying, but the problem was that she couldn't. A while ago, her tears had just stopped. Just like that. But her sobs didn't. So she continued to sob dryly, gasping for breath every so often.

It just wasn't fair. None of it was. Why had her mother abandoned her? Had she been a bad girl? Was it the time that her mother had found her stealing some M'n'M's out of the cupboard? Or when she was playing outside when she was supposed to be doing homework? Or was it that time when her mother had to come to the daycare, just because she had pushed that stupid, slimy Cindy Perkins to the ground at recces?

Maybe it was all of it . . . maybe her mom had just gotten tired of her. Yes, that was it . . . her mom couldn't stand her anymore.

The thought made Cassie whimper.

A knock broke the silence that had enveloped her bedroom for the past few hours. Then, a voice, one she recognized. But it didn't bring her any comfort, because she knew that it wasn't her mother calling her to supper.

"Cassie, dinner's ready!" A teenaged male's voice shouted from outside her closed bedroom door.

She didn't make a move, or do anything to answer him. At the mention of dinner, she felt her stomach growl, but she ignored it and turned over on her other side, facing the door. Her room was completely dark, as the sun was setting earlier now. The only light came from the outside hallway, and most of it was now blocked by the shadow of the older boy standing outside the door. Cassie wanted to tell him to go away, to leave her alone, but she didn't speak a word. She didn't really want to. Hopefully, he wouldn't open the door . . .

But of course, he did.

The door creaked open, and light poured into her dark room. Cassie squinted as the light hit her eyes, and she groaned a little bit. She pulled her stuffed teddy bear closer to her face, covering her mouth and nose with it, but it didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Hey Cass . . . Cass, are you . . . alright?" The teenage boy asked, concern in his voice as he said the last few words of his sentence.

He walked closer, bending down near her bedside and examining her. Her eyes were puffy, red and blood-shut. Her nose was stuffy, and her intake of breath was choppy. He knit his eyebrows in concern and looked her in the eyes for a few seconds, before she shut hers and shook her head feverishly.

"I'm fine! Go away, Remy!" She said in a quiet voice.

Remy tilted his head a little and ran a finger through her curly black hair. "Cassie . . . what happened, what's wrong?"

"Nothing!" Cassie said, her voice a whisper.

"Cass, I want to - "

"You should know! You would!" She said suddenly, breaking right into the middle of his sentence, more louder than before. "Emile knew . . . he told me!"

Now she was mad, her voice slightly angry. But her angry betrayed her and turned to sadness, and she was yet again crying dry sobs. Of course he knew . . . he had to of known . . . wasn't he Emile's son, or . . . well, he was her brother . . . but that thought would have to wait for another day. Because now, she was just angry with him for keeping a secret.

"Told you what?" Remy asked softly, but he already knew. Emile had told him when she had come . . . and when he had been told, he felt a strong connection to a little girl that he didn't even know. Because that was the same thing that had happened to him, when he was only an infant . . . it would obviously be harder on Cassie, because she had memories of her mother. Because she actually knew her mother. But Remy couldn't help feeling for her, more than anyone else could, because he knew what it was like . . . because he knew what it was like to be abandoned.

"That . . . that . . . " Cassie said, her voice small again. "That Mommy's not coming back!"

Remy frowned sadly and stood up, then sat on the end of her bed and ran his hands through her hair gently.

"I'm sorry, Cassie . . . " He said quietly, not knowing what was appropriate to say to a sorrowful five-year-old.

"But you knew!" She wailed, sitting up and nearly bumping her head on the palm of his hand. "You knew, and you didn't tell me!"

Instead of answering, he tried to wrap her in a hug, but Cassie pushed him away, shrinking back toward the wall behind her bed.

"You didn't tell me! Why?" She demanded.

"Cassie, I'm sorry, but I couldn't," Remy told her softly, making no move toward her, as he could tell she didn't want it.

"Why?" She demanded again, letting out a loud, hollow sob.

"Emile told me not to . . ." Remy said. As an afterthought, he knew that a five-year-old either wouldn't understand, or think that that was a good reason. He sighed a little, and then suddenly thought of something else to say. "I didn't want to make you sad."

Cassie didn't answer, but seemed to take this comment to heart, as she scooted a little closer to him, her stuffed bear limply dangling from her hand. They sat there for a few minutes, until Remy put his arm around her, and she fell into his hug. She nuzzled up against his stomach, frowning sadly.

"I really wish you told me," she whispered, her voice muffled to nearly nothing by his shirt. "Then maybe I would have been prepared."

Remy smiled sadly, unconsciously wrapping his arms a little tighter around her small body.

"Next time I will, Cass, I promise."

Cassie is owned by my dear friend native101, and Remy is, as you all know, owned by me. :)