Note: GUEST reviewers, please have the courtesy to at least make up a name, will you? Just using "Guest" is lazy as fuck.

CHAPTER FOUR

LITTLE ORPHAN EMMA

Wind was howling outside the walls, their water-stained peeling paper closing in with each rattling of the ice-covered windows.

Huddled in her small lumpy bed with its squeaky metal frame, Emma hugged her blankie tightly, her bottom lip quivering as she fought back tears.

She was three which meant she was a big girl and big girls weren't scared of wind.

Okay, maybe she wasn't so big and she was a little scared, but Emma didn't like this big old building or her lumpy bed with the funny smelling pillow or the bigger kids she had to share the too-big room with, kids that said mean things and one of 'em even stole her blankie and called her a baby when she started crying 'cause she couldn't find it!

Emma hated it here at the or-fin-ig.

Her mommy used to come in and read her stories when there were storms and she got scared. And her room had a nightlight too, to make sure no monsters got in.

The orfinig didn't have nightlights. Or mommies.

But neither do you, Emma reminded herself, scowling deeply into the fuzzy wool of her blankie.

The bigger kids also said that the lady she called "Mommy" wasn't really her mommy at all, and "Daddy" wasn't her daddy. They said the adults had talked about her and that it said in a "file" in a cabinet in the office where the mean lady with glasses had made her sit when she first got to the orfinig that no one knew her real parents 'cause they had left her by the side of a road to die as a baby.

Emma would never have believed such a horrible mean story if the people she thought were her Mommy and Daddy hadn't dropped her off here right before Christmas, just after she'd mailed her letter to Santa that she'd worked on super hard and covered in stickers and glitter.

Emma didn't understand. She'd been really good all year. And super excited when not-Mommy said she was going to have two babies. She'd get to be a big sister!

That's what Emma had asked Santa for: for a baby brother or sister, and she was going to get two! But not-Mommy had said they couldn't keep Emma and the new babies. She and not-Daddy said they were really sorry, that they hadn't thought they could ever have their own babies, and they'd loved Emma lots and she would always be a "Swan" but they just couldn't "ford" it.

The bigger kids said that her not-parents had only taken her in as a baby 'cause people, like the ones that ran the orfinig, paid them to take unwanted kids.

They also said Santa wasn't real.

Emma hadn't wanted to believe that, but then if Santa was real she'd still be in her house with her yellow pillow with a baby brother and sister and the She-Ra castle she'd also asked for.

She-Ra wouldn't be afraid of the storm!

But She-Ra had a sword and a cape and a flying horse and friends and even a brother. Emma didn't have any of those things. All she had was her blankie with her name on it that was probably made by her real parents who hadn't wanted her either.

Emma wanted to believe that maybe they just lost her or she got stolen and they were looking for her. One day her real Mommy and Daddy would show up and take her home and she would have brothers and sisters and castles and swords... but not a tiara because tiaras were stupid and girlie and Emma only liked some girlie stuff, but not the Disney princess girlie stuff that the other girls liked... which was why they didn't like her 'cause she said Sleeping Beauty was stupid 'cause she didn't do anything, just slept for years 'til some dumb prince woke her up, which was even more stupid than Snow White who ate some old weirdo stranger's poison apple! Emma was three but she knew not to take food from strangers!

An apple sounded pretty good, though, Emma thought while trying not to sniffle. The food at the orfinig kind of sucked - she wasn't supposed to use that word, but the bigger kids said it all the time - and there was never any grilled cheese or onion rings and the hot chocolate was sucky powder stuff in water that never had cinnamon.

The windows rattled loudly and Emma burrowed further under the scratchy wool quilt.

Don't cry don't cry don't cry. Only babies cry and you are NOT a baby! Emma repeated in her head.

When the floorboards suddenly creaked, Emma almost peed herself. Thank goodness she hadn't! She'd already wet her bed twice and got made fun of by the bigger kids and glared at by the mean handyman. She couldn't help it that the bathroom was really far away and the floor was cold and the light had this really loud fan with it that woke up the kids by the door and they would get mad and call her a baby for not being able to hold it until morning.

Emma sniffled and hugged her legs tightly together.

Why was everyone here so mean?

"Emma?"

The voice calling her name startled Emma again. She let out a squeak and stuffed her blankie under her smelly pillow before declaring, "I'm not scared!" and peering over the edge of the quilt at the person in the near darkness.

The person wasn't one of the other kids but a lady but not one she remembered.

"Are you a pervert?" Emma demanded, eyes narrowed.

"I - what?" said the blonde lady.

"Becky said grown-ups who sneak into kids rooms at night are perverts," Emma explained, wary. Becky was an older girl who drew really weird pictures and had to see the cownslor lots 'cause she had bad dreams. Becky got to have her own room with a nightlight.

"No, I'm not a pervert," answered the blonde who bit her lip then added, "not exactly. I mean, I'm not here to hurt you, but... I'm not really a good person either. Someone told me to find you, that I was supposed to help you get out of this place, and maybe... maybe then I could be a better person if I did... or a person, I guess. I'm not really a person..."

Brows furrowing, Emma asked, "Are you a ghost? Or an angel? Or a fairy godmother?"

"Erm... no," replied the strange lady. "I'm a... a... homunculus."

"What's that?"

"Complicated," sighed the woman. "You... kinda created me."

Now that was weird, but Emma was good at telling when people lied. Of course, the lady could be crazy too.

"How'd I do that?" Emma asked.

"Magic," said the stranger.

Emma scrunched her face up in thought before considering, "Cause I wished on that star to go home? Are you gonna take me to my real parents?"

"I... well, I don't know about getting you to your parents, Emma, just... away from here," explained the lady. "You're not supposed to be here - well, not anymore. You ended up here because you created me by accident, but I didn't know that. I thought I was you, but you've been stuck here while I was doing bad, selfish things."

That didn't make a lot of sense, but the lady seemed to believe it. They were the same person? But the lady was all grown up! They did have the same chin, though, so Emma asked, "Are you from the future?"

"Ah... kind of."

"And... you can really take me home? Is it near the beach? I've never been to the beach."

"Um... sure."

Now the lady was lying. Emma's eyes narrowed. "You're lying! You're a crazy lady! CRAZY LADY! PERVERT! PERVERT!" she shouted, hoping to wake up the other kids, but somehow none of them woke up! Had the crazy lady drugged them?

Emma scrambled out of bed.

"Emma, wait!" the lady tried to grab her, but Emma was fast!

Scurrying past the other beds, Emma made for the door to the hall.

But it was locked!

How had the lady gotten in if it was locked? Did she really have magic?

"Emma, please stop!" called the lady, trying to grab her again.

Emma felt a shock like static electricity and miraculously the door opened! She slipped through the space and into the hall with its dimmed, flickering lights.

"HELP! HELP!" Emma cried. "THERE'S A CRAZY LADY TRYING TO KIDNAP ME!"

On the stairs Emma stumbled and dropped her blanket. No! She scrambled back to retrieve it, but the crazy lady got it first!

"Give it back!" Emma shouted.

"Only if you come with me, Emma."

"No! You're a bad lady! You said so yourself!"

"It's not my fault!" argued the lady. "It's how I was made. I'm not a whole person. I don't have a soul!"

Okay, now she was really bonkers! The old lady who read Bible stories had mentioned souls, and everyone had a soul!

Emma mustered her courage, kicked the lady in the leg, grabbed her blankie, and continued running. She ran and ran through the hallways until she came to the big EXIT door which was supposed to be locked, but the mean handyman always left it propped open so he could smoke, even when it was super cold out!

"EMMA!" called the lady as she slipped out into the-

Not backyard of the orfinig.

Emma gasped. She was in... a carnival? It was empty and dark and creepy but she could make out the dark shapes of the rides against the moonlight sky and it smelled like old popcorn and cotton candy... and someone had peed nearby. Gross.

A hand suddenly was fastened around her wrist and Emma screamed, but no sound came out of her mouth and the lady started to glow and Emma started to glow and then everything got bright and -

It was like the memory potion moment all over again, but a thousand times worse since it was combined with the feeling of dying in reverse, the ripped-apart-pieces being shoved back together.

Emma ended up on her knees, doubled over, heaving and lightheaded.

But at least she hadn't peed herself.

"Well well," a nasally baritone declared and Emma awkwardly stood and turned to face a pale-faced man with dark hair wearing a hoodie and jacket and looking rather bored. He raised an eyebrow at her, smirked, and amended, "You're shorter than I expected."

AN: Another chapter! Yippie! And a cameo by Metatron from Dogma! I didn't include what "Pride" faced to get to Emma. Sorry about that, but Serendipity was off doing shots somewhere. I do have a direction for this story, if you stick with it. It is ultimately Swanfire, though the next eight or so chapters will not feature Neal. This is Emma's journey of self-reflection.

Next up: The world(s) according to Metatron.