Chapter Two: To Be Called A Monster

Jennifer sat in the center of the village where a few chairs remained around the dying campfire after the festivities had worn off and most of the inhabitants had gone to bed. She occupied one of the chairs, watching the embers burn under the rubble. The moon above was full tonight, and she smiled as she basked in the silence, closing her eyes, hearing the crickets chirp, and an owl hoot dolefully into the night. Jennifer's mind repeated the time she and Rumplestiltskin sat under the tree, their voices softly speaking to one another, the kiss, the doll he'd given her, which Jennifer held in her hand, admiring fondly. A smile lifted the corners of her lips when her heart fluttered unexpectedly as she thought of her and Rumplestiltskin running away from this village with his son, being a family, together forever as long as they three would live—although, sadly, she'd outlive them...It was just another con of being a vampire. An immortal life with a mortal love.

Her reverie was broken when she heard footsteps, and turning around, she saw that it was her mother and father, Lydia and Percy.

"Go away," Jennifer muttered, returning her gaze back at the small fire. "I don't want to talk to you."

"But, but," Percy said quickly, rounding the fire so he stood in front of Jennifer, "We need to talk to you."

Jennifer heard the urgency in his voice. She stood slowly to her feet, her head tilting to the side in her confusion as she gazed upon the worried faces of her parents. They looked so frightened, but she couldn't decipher if it was because of her or something far more terrifying. When they looked at each other uncertainly, then sadly looked at her, Jennifer frowned.

"So it's happened," Jennifer stated flatly, glancing between them unhappily. "You've finally turned on me, haven't you?"

"No, it's..."

"What then?" demanded Jennifer, stepping towards them. "I'm a monster—you've said that already. You're scared of me."

"We're not scared of you, darling," Lydia whispered gently, although her quick glance around the town made something else quite clear.

"You're not scared," Jennifer agreed. "You're embarrassed of me."

"It's not like that..." Percy began, holding his hands out to reach her, but Jennifer swiped them away angrily.

As expected, the elderly couple flinched, and Jennifer stared at them. She felt her heart break a little every time she saw her parents flinch away from her, their faces scrunched in a cringe as though she'd thrown a book at them. Jennifer crossed her arms, hoping that would lead them to think that she definitely had no intent to harm them, but their worried faces still remained.

"You must leave, Jennifer. Leave tonight." Lydia whispered hurriedly, her voice strained, breaking a little. She moved towards Jennifer, taking her daughter's hands in hers as she further implored, "The King's men are coming for Morraine—and they've heard about you...they want to take you away, Jennifer. They want to kill you."

"I've done nothing wrong," Jennifer returned, taken aback.

"They know what you are," Percy insisted, although his voice lacked the sincerity and worry that had been heard from Lydia; Jennifer frowned at her father.

"You want me gone, don't you, Daddy?" Jennifer asked sadly.

"You're not like us anymore..." he said.

"Percy!" Lydia chided.

"It's true!" Percy snapped at his wife, gesturing violently to Jennifer. "She's a vampire, Lydia—a monster. She's been feeding off people, honey, people—our own people. And look at us—we're no better for it, either!"

Jennifer gaped at him, so did Lydia. Although Lydia looked more angry, Jennifer was beside herself in sadness, in heart break. She couldn't believe what she had heard, but in her heart, Jennifer knew her father felt this way. What made it harder was knowing her mother felt the same, but it was too terrible to say—too terrible to acknowledge. But now that it was said, Jennifer stepped back in surprise.

"You're not telling me to leave because you care for me," Jennifer said sadly. "You're telling me this because you no longer want me around."

"It's not that we don't want you around, dear," Lydia began, but Percy finished it off.

"We don't want this monster around." Percy declared callously.

"Percy!" Lydia gasped, and immediately turned to Jennifer, saying, "He didn't mean that, dear."

"He does." Jennifer said. She blinked quickly to keep back the hot tears, and gulped a few times so to keep the pain from dwelling just inside her throat. "And I know you feel the same way, Mom—don't you?"

"Honey..."

"DON'T YOU!" shouted Jennifer vehemently, stepping towards her.

Immediately, Lydia cried out in fear and Percy growled, stepping between her and the beast. A protective arm shielded Lydia as Percy stared Jennifer down.

"Leave." Percy ordered calmly. "Or you will have the knights to worry about."

"I have no where else to go," Jennifer uttered, immediately regretting her angry outburst. "Please..."

"Leave. Now."

Tears rolled down Jennifer's cheeks, the heat of it soon felt like ice as the wind blew lightly, smothering what was left of the embers in the camp fire. Jennifer looked at her parents, searching their eyes for something of love, but any remnants of it now was replaced with bitterness by her father and pure terror by her mother; they both stared at her as though they didn't recognize her at all. Lydia and Percy were now both glaring at her, and Jennifer bit back her sadness.

"You are my parents," Jennifer said quietly. "I would have thought you two would have been the last people to abandon me...when I need you most."

"We are only here for people we love most." Percy sneered.

Ouch...another piece of her heart just shattered. Lydia was crying behind him, her face buried in her hands. Apparently, this was a confrontation that had been a long time coming, and what might have started as a private conversation had started to turn public as a few villagers had stepped out of their shacks upon hearing the dulcet tones rise to shouting. Jennifer glanced around to see if anyone would defend her, but no one stepped up; instead, they all seemed to flock behind her parents, who were now disowning her, abandoning her.

"You're a monster," Percy growled. "A monster...and a beast. Your life is wretched, and we no longer want any part of it. Neighbors look at your mother and me...I'm damn tired of it."

"It's not all wretched," Jennifer snapped. "You know what I can do that you cannot, Daddy? I can run faster than five horses and a carriage. I can jump to the height of the tallest tree. You can cut me with a knife, and my skin will heal quicker than that of the healthiest human being alive. And while my heart may not beat any longer...I can still love deeper than any of you"—she pointed a finger to everyone that circled around her—"You all see the darkest side of what I am, not the best. You choose to see the worst side because that's all you want to see." She looked at her parents unhappily.

"It is easier to hate a monster, than try to love me, isn't it, Daddy?" she asked quietly.

"Enough of this nonsense," Percy uttered. "Leave here...leave now. You're no longer welcome here...monster."

Jennifer frowned as the mob behind her parents all agreed in unison with the same kind of bitterness. Friends she'd known for years were eyeing her dangerously, looking at her as though she was a bug that needed to be squashed immediately. Children stood behind their parents—sons stood with a fighting stance while daughters held the clothes of their mothers tightly.

A village door opened, and Jennifer turned to see Rumplestiltskin step out of the door with Baelfire behind him. He gave the crowd one look, and Jennifer hoped against hope that he would not abandon her.

"LEAVE!" Percy shouted.

Immediately, Jennifer fled for the woods—as she did, the mob came after her with torches and pitchforks, shouting beastly names at her. As they did, Rumplestiltskin watched after them, sadness written on his face. He had seen her look at him with such helplessness and dismay that it had ripped a place in his heart.

000

In the forest, no song was heard, nor birds nor crickets or any measurable sound of happiness. Instead, if one walked through the middle of the forest, and followed the sobs directly to a large oak tree, the wanderer would have seen Jennifer lying in a patch of leaves, her eyes reddened by the long hours of crying. Her fingers clenching at her chest as she bore her soul into the silence of the forest, crying so hard that now her voice was muffled for no sobs could identify her sadness and isolation, her teeth gritting for the pain in her heart was too unbearable. Her face and arms scratched from the branches of thickets and thorns she'd raced through in order to escape the hatred of those she loved.

On that night, Jennifer lost everything, except for one thing. Grasped tightly in her hand was a little person made out of straw, a gift given by the only person left in the world that didn't hold her darkness against her, but cherished it—for it was a part of her. He fashioned the figurine as he saw her: not completely perfect, but perfect in his eyes.

Jennifer held it close to her heart, and with it there, she fell asleep.