Guess Who's BACK!

Sorry for the leave of absence but I was traveling and couldn't bring my computer.

Thank you to everyone who has been reading this story.

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Chapter 8: Why?

Jacqueline rubbed her backside as she fought back tears.

I won't give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry I just WON'T!

She stumbled as she exited the house but managed to regain her footing. Her father was of the opinion that sparing the rod would spoil the child in her case. So he applied the rod liberally and effectively. Upon entering the patch of grass behind the house she was met by a most unwelcome sight. Her brothers Gaston. Jacques, Henri, and Albert were waiting for her.

Perfect. She thought as she approached them.

Jacques snickered while Gaston smiled evilly at his sister. The twins weren't fully aware of what was going on but knew it was going to be interesting.

"Out of my way!"

Gaston stepped closer out of spite.

"You only got what you deserved."

Jacqueline glared at him, she could already feel her temper boiling to the surface and the last thing she needed was to get into more trouble.

"Get out of my way GASTON!"

Her brother lost a little of his nerve and stepped back. After all the memory of her pushing him into a cold stream was still fresh in his mind. But papa was inside and he knew that gave him the upper hand. Smiling boldly he decided it would do her good to be knocked down a peg or two.

"You can't do anything to us Jacqueline because papa is inside and he will give you the beating of a lifetime. Maybe he'll get tired of you always messing up and send you away!"

The boys laughed with hateful glee at the idea of being rid of her forever.

Jacqueline watched their insufferable faces as their laughter rang in her ears. Oh she despised them. HOW DARE THEY MOCK HER!

"YOU RAT!"

The laughter stopped as she raised her hand to slap little Gaston across the face. She wanted to wipe that smile of his face and rub some dirt in it for good measure. He was an annoying little twit and she was tired of it.

They all froze as a hand stopped Jacqueline's from making contact with her brother's fat cheek. Fear shot through her body as she felt the cold fingers encircle her wrist. She braced herself for the slap that was sure to come.

"Boys go back inside."

The relief was so great that Jacqueline's legs nearly gave out underneath her as she heard her mother's voice. The boys didn't jump at her command like they had for their father but never the less they obeyed albeit sluggishly leaving the two standing alone under the large oak tree.

Wounded pride rising to the surface Jacqueline jerked her arm free from her mother's grasp. Belle didn't fight her and allowed her the distance of a few feet as her daughter marched with head high to the base of the tree.

Approaching less dramatically Belle spoke gently knowing all too well that harsh demands would do more harm than good. Something she was unable to convince her husband of.

"Jacqueline why did you tell the other children those horrible things?"

Belle watched her daughter's posture become even more rigid. Silently refusing to acknowledge her errors.

Just like her father. Belle thought remorsefully. Try as she might she just couldn't seem to make her understand the obstacles she was creating for herself by being so obstinate. A small part of her acknowledged that she had inherited some of that trait from herself. But Belle had learned many painful years ago that persuasion and patience were much more useful tools then defiant obstinacy. And she wished to spare her little girl the difficult lessons she had learned.

"You knew those things weren't true… Darling you know it is wrong to spread lies."

Jacqueline turned swiftly to face her mother fresh tears welling up in her eyes. Hurt and confusion evident on her face. Unceremoniously she threw herself at her mother, wrapping her arms around her waist and sobbing into her apron.

Belle stroked her chestnut hair whilst trying to calm her down.

"Shhhhhhhh, it's alright. Shhhhhhhhh, it'll be ok."

Between hiccups she spoke. Her mother straining to hear through the muffling of her apron.

"I-I just…(sniff) w-w-want… to climb that tree… a-and never… come… back… down!"

The child continued to cry while her mother hugged her close. When her tears subsided Belle pulled her to stand before her. Kneeling down in the dirt she looked her daughter in the eye.

"Jacqueline, why did you lie?"

"I didn't mean to lie. I was just telling stories…like you do."

"Like I…"

"I just wanted to make things more interesting, I didn't mean to lie."

"Oh my dear…the stories I tell you aren't real. None of them are real…they are just stories about made up people and their imaginary lives… But the butcher is real…the people in the village are real…and the stories you told about them weren't true…and they have caused a lot of trouble and hurt."

For the first time Jacqueline felt a twinge of shame for what she had done and didn't meet her mother's gaze. Belle was sole person alive who could make her see the error of her ways and regret them. If for no other reason than the love she held for her mother and a desire to make her proud.

"You have a remarkable gift Jacqueline. Your imagination can do incredible things, but like all gifts you must be careful in how you use it otherwise you will cause pain to those around you. Do you understand?"

"Yes mama."

Belle smiled gently, but then her brow creased in thought and she took the little girl by the shoulders and became uncharacteristically stern.

"Jacqueline you must promise me something."

She nodded.

"You must be careful in what you tell others, especially your papa. He does not have your gifted imagination and I am afraid can't understand. It will do you no good to incur his anger. Hold your tongue and bide your time."

Once again she nodded. "I'll try mama."

"But you must also promise to never forget how to imagine. You are a clever girl, use that…who knows, one day, it just might save your life."

Castle in the Forest

Cogsworth and Lumiere paced back and forth in the hallway. How many times had they found themselves here Lumiere wondered. Neither of them spoke, there was nothing to say. They simply waited.

The click of a door opening made the two older gentlemen turn to face the large stately double doors of the Master's chambers. The doctor exited quietly closing the door behind him. When a fat hand he motioned the two servants to follow him down the hallway. They complied and the trio made their way a safe distance down the hall in order to speak without fear of being overheard.

"What iz your diagnosis Monsieur doctor?" (Lumiere)

The doctor shook his head as he removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of is nose. His exhaustion in the situation evident.

"I can find nothing wrong."

"Are you insinuating that the master is faking?" (Cogsworth)

"No the problem is very real there is no doubt about that. He weakens more every year, but I can find nothing physically wrong with him. How can I treat something that isn't there?"

"Please, it has been 16 years I cannot bear to see him remain in such agony." (Cogsworth)

The portly old butler had watched the Prince struggle for years without complaint. But with every passing year he grew worse, and it was killing all of them to watch without being able to help.

"I have done all that I can. Even the medication to dull his pain no longer has any effect. I am truly sorry gentlemen…but there is nothing I can do."