AN: Chapters 10 and 11 will be covering a little bit of back story on both Jinx and Kyd Wykkyd. I do not plan on using any references from the Teen Titan's comic for either one; they will be based mostly on my own imagination so I apologize for any inconsistencies. Thank you everyone who has read and/or reviewed the story thus far.

The Wicked One

Chapter 10: Jinx

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Roses. Bright and red. Those were the first things she could recall back when she was just a baby. They were there in the hospital room when she first entered the world and they decorated her house and small bedroom. She woke up every morning to the sweet smell of roses, the aroma sticking with her throughout the rest of the day and until she fell asleep.

Her mother loved to garden in her free time. She had flowers of all kinds; dandelions, daffodils, lilies, honeysuckle, jasmines…but the young girl's senses always drifted to the bright red roses. One day her mother plucked one from the bush and placed it behind one of the girl's ears and said with a smile.

"They look prettier on you."

The young girl squealed with delight and spent the rest of the day feeling its soft petals between her fingers and gazing into mirrors. She fell asleep with it still in her hair but woke the next morning to find it gone.

The girl immediately ran to her mother only to find the rose, withered and blackening, rested in the palm of her mother's hand as she stood over a trash can. The young girl began accusing her mother, shouting and screaming at her with tears running down her face demanding she tell her why she would do such a thing to her rose.

Her mother smiled sadly back at her and placed the dying rose on the table before walking over to her daughter and kneeling down beside her she answered:

"All things, even those that are beautiful, have an end. I don't expect you to understand that right now but just cherish everything you hold dear to you, my little rose, for you never know when you might lose them."

Although the young girl was confused at what her mother said to her it was enough to make her stop crying and feel slightly bad at accusing her mother, especially when she began to hug her longer than she ever remembered being hugged.

Her mother never again cut away a rose from the bushes but when winter came around the young girl refused to go outside to play in the snow with the other children. When her mother questioned her she refused to elaborate, she didn't want to upset her mother like she did with the dead rose. Seeing the dead flowers outside during every winter only reminded her of her mother's confusing words and sad eyes. She couldn't stand the thought anymore than seeing all of her mother's beautiful flowers dead and withered.

Each spring brought new found joy whenever her mother's garden grew back to life and the young girl would once again play and laugh and forget her worries and troubles. This pattern went on for several years up until it was time for the young girl to go to school. She knew it was time even before she was told, all of her friends talked and talked about how excited they were until she felt she couldn't wait any longer herself.

"I'm sorry sweetie, but I do not think you should go to school this year, maybe next year." Her mother said to her when the young girl confronted her early that morning.

Once again she could not hold back her tears or her angry accusations and she ended up breaking a vase of roses before storming off to her room, making sure it slammed shut nice and loud. She lay curled up in her bed the rest of that morning while the feelings of anger and regret battled in her chest

The year passed very slowly for the young girl. Each morning she would watch through her bedroom window as all of her friends ran with smiles on their faces to the bus stop and each afternoon she would watch them from the garden as they returned home. Some days they would visit her and tell her about their time in school but it only aided in deepening the young girl's depression, gradually her friends visited her less and less.

When summer finally came the young girl found herself alone, sitting in the garden by herself. She cried as she hid from her mother amongst all the flowers, swearing to herself that she would never cry again. As she hid amidst the flowers her hand subconsciously plucked a rose from its bush, she watched as it slowly withered and died before her eyes.

The end of summer came quickly enough and the girl knew what her mother would say even before she asked the question.

"I'm sorry; it isn't the right time yet. I could home school you, if you would like?"

But the young girl only shook her head in response. Despite the anger and hate that once again boiled within her she refused to let it out, refused to break her promise to herself. She did not look through her windows anymore and whenever she was out in the garden she stayed submerged in the flowers, hidden from the rest of the world.

Over time she got used to playing by herself, she even began to enjoy it more than when she played with her friends. Her mother and the flowers were all she needed to be happy. She told that lie to herself over and over again, until she finally believed it.

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5 years later…

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It did not rain like it did at funerals in movies. The day did not look dreary in the least bit. The sun was out and shining and the entire event was graced with flowers and life. What few people there were did not even look sad telling her that her mother had "gone to a better place" and that "she is still watching over you".

She wanted to spit at their feet. They knew nothing about her mother and they knew nothing about her suffering. They would simply tell her empty words then go back to tend to their perfect lives and perfect gardens while her own withered and died.

The funeral was short, or at least, if felt short to her. She existed as if in a haze, the shadows of people walked and talked around her until they finally disappeared. She found herself alone beside her mother's grave, sitting down; arms wrapped around her legs, eyes dry as dust.

"Jinx."

A voice broke through her haze, saying the word deep and meaningfully. The young girl glanced up to see a woman draped in black, a stern look on her face as she looked back down on her.

"What do you want?" The girl asked, she didn't mean to sound harsh but that was how her voice came out, and she didn't plan on apologizing for it.

"I heard that your mother passed away a few days ago." The woman spoke, and if she was insulted by the girl's tone she didn't show it. "I thought I might come and pay my respects."

The girl glanced up again at the old woman who was now looking at the grave. She wasn't anyone the girl had seen before, nor did she remember her mother talking about knowing any old woman like this one. The girl gazed back at the ground and they both fell into a very deep kind of silence. The moment was so quiet and still the girl found herself not even trying to think too loudly incase it somehow broke the mood.

"Your mother was a very bright woman." The old woman continued after a few minutes of this silence, "Not just bright in mind, but she had a sort of radiance to her, do you not agree?"

The girl found herself nodding without really thinking. Of course she was radiant; she was all smiles, all laughs. She didn't deserve to die, not in a world filled with shadow people, she didn't deserve to have her light snuffed out.

"You can cry," The woman continued, and the girl could feel the old woman's eyes on her without having to look up, "you can scream, it is not wise to hold such raw emotion in. You'll only end up feeling worse-."

"What do you know?" The young girl hissed back, hugging her legs closer to her, "You don't know my mother and you don't know me."

"On the contrary, young Jinx, I know you very well…"

"Stop calling me that!" The girl shouted, still staring at the ground, "That isn't my name…"

"Oh really?" The woman challenged, and this time the girl dared to look up only to see the old woman staring back down at her again, a slight smile on her face, "Then tell me child, what is your name?"

"It's…" But as quickly as the girl thought she knew her name she had forgotten it. Every time she tried to think of what it was all that came up in her head was one word. Jinx.

"I don't remember what it is."

The woman let out a small, amused laugh.

"Such a pride spirit you have. I could use someone like you at my school."

"I already have a school…" the young girl protested, the woman raised an eyebrow when she didn't continue.

"Yes, go on." The old woman pressed, "What is the name of this school of yours?"

Only blanks filled the girls head. She tried to remember any teachers, classmates, classrooms, but nothing was there. She had to have gone to a school in her life…hadn't she?

"Poor child, your mother has been holding your talent back all these years, keeping you locked up in that house. This is your first time even being away from home, isn't it?"

The girl tried to protest, but even before she opened her mouth she knew she couldn't remember a time ever straying far from her mom's house and garden. She looked up into the old woman's wrinkled face, her confusion and grief eating away at her brain.

"What's…what's happening to me?" The girl asked, a sudden tear dripping from her eye. The old woman smiled softly and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"You're beginning to realize the truth." She said simply, keeping her hand on the girl's shoulder.

"The...truth?"

"The truth that your mother thought you were a danger to society, that she needed to lock you up forever if you or anyone was to be safe."

"That's a lie!" The young girl shouted brushing off the old woman's hand and standing up to full height, her pink eyes glaring into the black ones.

"Think about it, Jinx, ever since you were born you were a curse on your family. Your father left, you lost your first house, relative's children mysteriously vanished or got injured, close friends wound up dead or missing. Everywhere you and your mother went, bad luck followed."

"No…no, you're wrong!" The girl insisted, doing her best to try and fight the new wave of memories flowing into her, "I was born in a room with roses, I lived in a nice house with roses, it was always just me and my mother and we were happy together, I know we were!"

"Ah yes, your mother always did have a thing for flowers, especially roses." The old woman spoke, her voice now wistful and calm. "They always have such a strong aroma, do they not? Take a strong enough whiff and it's almost like they overwhelm all of the senses."

The old woman then looked down at her mother's grave; the young girl did as well, a bouquet of roses rested against the tomb.

"You brought those for her, correct?"

The young girl nodded. Very slowly and carefully the old woman walked over and pulled free a rose from the bunch, despite the girl not wanting her to do this she spoke not a word or move a muscle.

"I want you to smell this rose, Jinx." The old woman said, walking over to the girl and holding out the rose, "And I want you to smell not only the truth, but be overwhelmed by it."

The young girl looked down at the single red rose held within the old woman's wrinkled hand. She knew, without touching it, that it would die if held in her own small hand. Her mother never told her why she wouldn't let her daughter ever touch her flowers; she died with that secret firmly locked inside her. In that moment the young girl finally decided she was tired of secrets, she was tired of lies from all the people around her. All she wanted was the truth; the truth would set her free.

Without a word the pink-haired, pink-eyed girl leaned forward and took a deep whiff of the rose.

It all invaded her at once. Her father leaving her mother beaten and in tears. The doctors telling her that giving birth to this child would eventually lead to her death. Her mother blaming herself when her brother's children went missing after playing with her daughter. The two of them living in a small, dark house at night where her mother cried herself to sleep while the daughter slept peacefully admits all the dead roses. Her mother working for hours a day to grow the roses to replace the ones her daughter killed every night. The destroyed furniture, the cuts and bruises her mother hid beneath her clothing, all of it hidden beneath the weight of the roses and her mother's smile.

In her mind the girl watched as her mother finally faded away in her bed, the life and energy drained out of her, her flame snuffed out, all because of her.

"It's…it's all my fault…" the young girl chocked out, falling back down on her knees as the tears now streamed out of her face, "I'm the one who killed my mother…I was a curse on her life…I…I…"

The young girl then let out a scream of agony and slammed her fists into the earth. Pink energy suddenly erupted from the ground, cracking the very earth around the women's feet. The young girl did not notice this, so wrapped up in grief was she, but the old woman saw it all and a small smile crept at the edges of her lips as she let the rose fall to the destroyed ground.

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To Be Continued…

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I know this one was a little short and did not have as much action as the last but I still hope you enjoyed reading it. The next chapter on Kyd Wykkyd will come out shortly I promise, then its right back to the main plot.

Thanks again to all my faithful readers and any new ones as well. You all are what keeps this brain train going.