+1+
Um, so ignoring my split personality break from before, this is more along the lines of what really happened.
LiLe : I know it’s sad but HOF was impactful. Man, I had a lot of fun reading and watching horror films. Maybe I can find something else to use the elements I learned from them.
Muse : Look at her
LiLe : Who ?
Muse : Renesme.
LiLe: Wha-
Muse : She thinks she so cute and creepy. I mean sure she is she’s an undead half vampire baby who is the only one of her kind and will have to go through puberty when she is four but still. Where is the angst ?
LiLe : Okay . . .
Muse : I’m just saying. If your parents are unnatural beings you shouldn’t be so “well adjusted”
LiLe : Well she has a supportive family. Just look at her hot 23 year old grandfather. They all love and accept her she deserves to be happy.
Muse : LiLe think about it. Kids learn to love their parents over time. I mean kids don’t develop a conscious till like 5 or 6. She’s skipping through all that, she should not be that well adjusted.
LiLe : Wow, I can’t believe we are doing this. It’s like Eddie said, because Renne-Esme is half human she has a soul and that’s why she can love and stay 17 forever and be just the right age for her uncle-boyfriend.
Muse : What if she didn’t have a soul ? What if someone took it from her ? Without a soul she could never die, never love. What if the only way to give get a soul was to take one by kil--
LiLe : We aren’t talking about Renneseeme anymore are we ?
Renesmee : you keep spelling my name wrong.
LiLe & Muse : AHHH!
The
DeLune household had been thrown into absolute chaos.
Mrs. Clair DeLune skirted down the halls, running into housekeeping staff while
talking on the phone and shouting orders to anyone she came across. She could
hear her infant son, Clarence, crying in one ear as she continued down the
hall.
Usually a calm and demure woman few people had ever seen her in such distress.
The last time that came to memory would have been a few months ago in April when Mrs. DeLune and her husband Martin received a four am phone call.
Nanny
Ella, Clarence’s Nanny, had picked up the phone before it could wake the baby.
Nanny Ella did not recognize the frantic voice on the other end of the line, a
voice spoke in a mixture of English and Italian.
Mrs. DeLune picked up the other line, Nanny Ella listened in.
Oh,
Nanny Ella. You come up later.
“Clara?”, Mrs. DeLune said her youngest daughter’s name with the utmost
compassion only a mother could have.
Much to Mrs. DeLune’s dismay she could count the number of times she had spoken
to her daughter since she had decided to leave the comfort of the family home.
Mrs. DeLune had sent Clara money whenever she could though Clara seemed to be being doing well on her own working in Italy.
“Mother”,
Clara spoke through tears, “Mother are you there?”
“Yes, dear. What’s wrong?”
“I- I need to come home”
“Why? What’s wrong are you okay?”
“I just need a ticket, I’ll tell you when I get home . . . please . . .”
“Clara are you sure—“
Clara hung up on the other end; Martin began to stir in his sleep and
Mrs. DeLune quietly placed the phone on the hook. She then began a quiet
rampage to every airline get her daughter home.
She
would not stand to lose her daughter again.
Thirty eight hours later Mr. and Mrs. DeLune watched from the foyer as a town
car drove up the path of their Rochester home. Clarence was in Mrs.
DeLune’s lap, Clara had yet to meet her newborn brother.
Mrs. DeLune was happy to see her daughter still wore the dye drop Hermes scarf
she gave her to cover her scarred face, her hair fell in soft pin curls
spilling out from underneath. She looked pale and sickly. Beneath her shades
her eyes were dark and tired.
It became obvious that Clara had fallen terribly ill while abroad. She spent
three days recovering in her room refusing to see a doctor.
One night, Mrs. DeLune listened from a distance as Clara had a particularly
loud fight with her father. When the fight had ended Mrs. DeLune slipped in to
comfort her daughter.
Mrs. DeLune watched the concern in Clara’s eyes which were now glossed over
with tears, there was a fear and something that seemed to be soothed just by
her mother’s presence.
Mrs. DeLune embraced her daughter, whispering comforting words. Clara calmed
and spoke words to her mother that would forever turn her father against her.
Mrs. DeLune however remained optimistic.
It
appeared her daughter was safe, healthy and pregnant.
“Please, please don’t tell him”, Clara begged not wishing to fall even further
out of grace with her benevolent father.
"It's
okay, Clara, It's okay", was all her mother said.
Despite their best efforts, It was not long until mother and daughter could no
longer keep Clara's pregnancy a secret.
So, I know Clara is 22 here. However at the time my girls and I were watching teen mom and I noticed how so many of the Grandma’s said they “just knew” so I wanted a bit of that in here
Martin, who had been stressed in past months took ill words to what he now
considered his difficult child. He yelled as expected and demanded information
that not even his wife dared to ask. Clara refused to answer, simply asking her
father to understand.
Questions
like “Who’s the father?” and “Did this happen when you were kidnapped”
Clara took her father's cruel remarks in stride, and still she begged for
forgiveness, for she had no one but her family, now. From that day forward to
make amends Clara resolved to get back in her father’s graces.
Martin’s anger became a permanent
fixture in the DeLune household.
Tonight however, on this chaotic August night Martin followed his wife
down the hall of their home praying for his sanity and the untimely birth
of his first grandchild.
The birth of the Delune's granddaughter was quick and somber, sending the new mother to the hospital, barley half alive.
Hey, so it’s so funny that the novellas are called August and Rose is born in August. It’s not intentional the math just worked out that way.
+++
Rosalie Emmeline Romano was born August 3rd at the DeLune household per
Martin’s request to ensure no one would know the shame of the illegitimate
child. The girl was given Mrs. DeLune's maiden name once again at Martin’s
insistence.
Martin
doesn’t want to have to acknowledge her
When the new mother and daughter were reunited for the first time not a
single member of the household could have understood Clara’s relief at the
beauty of her daughter.
Despite
the terrible circumstances Clara absolutely fawned over the child at first,
hoping to give her no more or less than she herself had.
“She is absolutly beautiful, Claudia. She has big bright eyes and her hair
exactly like mine”, Clara said while speaking to her oldest sister over the
phone.
“I’m glad”, Claudia returned , “I can’t wait to see her. . . and father”
“Rosalie loves music too, whenever I play my piano she falls right asleep, it’s
adorable”
“That’s nice Clara, I should be up to visit soon”, Claudia’s voice was
stilted not that her sister noticed.
Two weeks to the date Claudia and her husband Derek arrived at the DeLune
household, while their driver ambled with all of Claudia’s bags Claudia ran up
the steps to embrace her little sister.
Quietly the two sisters climbed the stairs to Rosalie’s nursery. The room had a
corner glass pane window that let in a dim light that shadowed the peach
colored walls.
No,
Glass windows. Better for the ghost to get in.
Claudia approached the white wicker
bassinet to peer down at her niece for the first time.
She stumbled taking a step back almost collapsing into her husband; She turned
towards her smiling sister.
Infact Clara had not lied, Rosalie was very much like her mother, she had
her mother’s full smile and raven dark hair, the tips of which dusted her pure
and deathly white skin, her eyes were very large and the most curious color of
desert sand.
I
hate this title so much
Claudia and Derek shared concerned glances as they watched Clara pick the child
up.
“I told you Claudia isn’t she beautiful”
This is based on a dytsoian/sci fi story That Only A Mother. about a mother who describes to her husband in letters how smart the child he has yet to see is. The only problem ? The child is a mutant with no arms or legs.
This could also go back to Kate Chopin’s short story where everyone can see the baby is mixed race EXCEPT the mother because she is so in love with the new baby.
Clara gets over this pretty quickly
+++
“Has she gone mad ?”, Claudia whispered in close gathering, “There is obviously
something wrong with the baby . . .. .has no one told her ?”
Claudia looked to her mother, her Father and Ella who were sitting
the living room.
LiLe
: Oh look. Mr. DeLune and the nanny sitting next to each other.
Mr. DeLune looked up from his paper, shaking his head slightly at Claudia to
silence her.
“Enough”, said Mr. DeLune taking down another drink, “This is a family matter
and it will stay that way.”
Martin : Can’t have people thinking the lunatic who kidnapped my daughter might have given her a child. Especially when said lunatic might have been a ghost. Then I can’t marry her off for money. I can’t let this become a burden. Infants die in their sleep all the time . . .
Logic
: Cool story bro
And that way it stayed.
These words however concerned Ella the Nanny. Though she was just into her
thirties she had taken care of numerous infants and there was infact something
different about Little Rosalie.
Though Ella’s only charge was Clarence, she had begun to realize that Rosalie
would sleep almost entirely through the day and only at night, like clockwork,
would she cry for hours on end. Often waking up Clarence which in turn upset
Martin.
It’s
almost as if this baby hates them. So yes at this point Victor has stolen the
baby’s soul and used it to make himself more human. Now yes, Victor probably
should have showed up all semi-corporeal more often.
One night, as usual, Rosalie began to fuss after her mother tried to fed her,
Ella stood close by to offer help or a kind word. By the time Rosalie was put
down Ella headed off to bed herself only to be awaken by the baby’s cry.
Clara and Ella nearly ran into each other in the hall.
“I can handle it”, said Ella, “you go rest"
“You’re not her Nanny”, Clara insisted, "Father wouldn't like it"
“You need some rest I won’t tell Mr. DeLune”
So
at this point Clara knows something is up because she has never been able to
get Rose to eat and yet she is still alive.
Ella took a deep breath and opened the door to the nursery, Rosalie was quiet
almost as if she sensed the nanny. Still Ella wanted to check on her. She
turned up the dimmer knowing the bright lights often hurt the child’s eyes.
Ella prepared herself for the babies oddly colored eyes, wishing they didn’t
frighten her so much. Rosalie was like an angel in her bassinet looking up at
the ceiling. Ella almost turned away when something bright and red caught
her attention.
Getting closer she saw small drops of blood across Rosalie’s mouth, Her eyes
now connecting with Ella the little girl smiled and cooed as if she took
delight in frighten the nanny. Shaking, Ella reached down wiped up the blood no
sooner had she disposed of it Rosalie began crying again.
Ella began to look for a cut, but didn’t see one.
“Is everything alright Ella ?”, Clara peeked into the room
“I-um- I , yes”
After that night Ella swore to keep to herself when it came to Rosalie, but she
would more than occasionally notice a bloody tissue in the trash and a calm but
shaken Clara leaving Rosalie's room at night.
So, this was more rule of creepy than anything else. I orginal had this idea that Rosalie was biting Clara but I sort of let it fade . What’s really happening her is her nose is bleeding cause Martins’ trying to kill her.
This kid never stood a chance.
During that time any guest visiting the DeLune household for one of their
lavish parties or events would scarce know there was another child in their
house.
Clara resumed her teaching and studies, making seldom if ever mention of her
daughter and answering not one questions about the scars on her face.
+2+
BTW, Victor is narrating this whole section.
As the years went on it became more and more difficult to ignore the first
DeLune grandchild. No sooner could she walk and talk only one thing was for
certain.
Rosalie was an absolute terror
As Rosalie’s fourth birthday drew near she now had 3 cousins to contend with,
and 2 girls at that. A two year old from her Aunt Claudia and a baby and adopted
6 year old from her Aunt Clarice.
Very often Clara found Rosalie watching from the window as her cousins and
uncle played during bright days, when she wasn't allowed outside.
Because
her skin would burn ):
To get attention Rosalie would make herself bleed with splinters or
by falling down.
Cause when she does things that should kill her she get’s Clara’s attention.
Equally this lead to her terrible habit of biting her uncle when she didn’t get her way, which caused even Nanny Ella to chastise her.
This
isn’t because she is a soulless child she just doesn’t like them.
Afterword she would begin to throw a
tantrum or began fights with her uncle or cousins. Nearly every week Martin
threatened to throw Clara and Rosalie out if she didn’t behave and occasionally
mother and daughter would make long weekend trips to Connecticut to getaway.
More often than not Rosalie would throw tantrums in the car or whenever a
stranger tried to speak to her, she wouldn’t eat when asked and would continue to
cause a scene until she had reduced her mother to tears.
This
is because Rosalie doesn’t like Clara for not protecting her from Martin.
Despite all of her concerns Clara always attempted to keep a careful watch on
her daughter, loving her as any good mother should.
During
a particularly warm spring night they lay together in Rosalie’s new bed,
Rosalie had begun rubbing her eyes as her mother read to her.
“ . . . she had never seen such a curious croquet-ground in her life; it was
all ridges and furrows; the balls were live hedgehogs”, Clara continued to
read, “. . .the mallets live flamingoes, and the soldiers had to double
themselves up and to stand on their hands and feet, to make the arches. . . “
Just
reading Alice and Wonderland. Which was a gift Clara got for Christmas in Litany Lane . . . from Mr. F
Rosalie had already fallen
asleep before learning the fate of the young heroine. Clara kissed her daughter
good night just before catching Martin’s contemptuous gaze by the door.
“Good Night, Rose”, she said turning out the light.
ROSE ! Her nickname is Rose ! asdfgk!!
No one thought this
Okay
“’Night”, the sleepy girl managed before starting to dream again.
As the door closed behind her Clara smiled to herself, finding herself uncommonly
at peace.
However that would not last
I wouldn’t let it.
The little family’s pain would be my new game and I could not wait to play.
---
Victor
Stop ruining it.
This prologue was really long.
Chapter 1
May 25th 2011 anyother nam
+1+
Oh, no not the dates again. Don’t worry they aren’t super important.
“Coffee”, my father held up his large coffee mug and called nonchalantly to the housekeeper, not even realizing she wasn't in ear shot.
“I’ll get it, Father”, I moved from my place behind the kitchen counter and grabbed the French press from the kitchen.
As I poured the coffee, Father tossed aside the plastic covering on the newspaper and began to read. His glasses tilted low on his nose as he eyes scanned the headlines. His hair was almost completely gray now, there were times when I was certain he looked much older than he was.
Plastic cover on the paper because of the body of a boy who is on the cover.
There were seldom times when Father could really stand be in my presence. It was mostly at dinner or Sunday afternoon's in the sun room. Usually with his work, newspaper or another person to distract him. Occasionally he would offer me a comment about the new violin shipment or a promising student at the academy.
Today I knew, would be without the luxury.
The two of us had sat in complete silence for the past half hour, I kept
waiting for him to speak to me but he didn’t.
As I poured the coffee I watched father’s hands as they gripped the cup. They
were very smooth and clean only covered with his wedding and football
rings.
Our tense silence was interrupted by the sound of my little brother Clarence’s
dress shoes clacking down the hall. He was dressed for Mass and had apparently
squirmed away from Nanny Ella’s grasp before she cold put his tie on. He
laughed and hid behind me as Nanny Ella wandered downstairs appearing very
confused.
Clara : *Sigh* I wish I could go to church but I’d probably be get burned of having a demon-child.
LiLe :um . . .
“Morning, Sissy !”, he whispered a to me while running around to the kitchen
table. “Sissy” had become the unofficial name for all of his big sisters.
Clara : I mean we will just ignore the fact that all of our names start with Cla but whatever.
LiLe : Yeah, that’s going to need to
stop
“Good Morning”, I said though I doubt he heard me, he undoubtedly
was a morning person.
Mother came down a little later, stopping to play with my hair a little. She
wasn’t particularly fond of the fact that I had straightened it, claiming it
laid a bit to flat and was far to long for her liking.
“Where’s, Rosalie?”, Mother asked. She placed her hands on father's shoulder
and bent down to kiss him.
Father and I were silent. Mother began to look between us for answer. I kept my
eyes low catching a glimpse at the front page of the news. The headline stood
out to me and I could see just the edge of a picture.
“Clara. . . Clara ?”, my mother called softly, "did something happen
?"
“the girl was . . . wandering around last night", Father answered,
"Trying to cause trouble. Clara doesn't know how to. . . isn't that
right Clara ?”
How to punish her. Was what he was
trying to say.
“She wasn't going to do anything wrong, She just doesn’t like the dark”, I
said. I sounded as if I were going to break into tears “You didn’t have
to. . . didn’t have to shake her so much”
“For Godsakes, calm down Clara”, father gritted between his teeth.
“She’s just a little girl”, I stood up knocking over my plate and coffee
cup More silence ensued and Clarence began to look wide eyed between my parents
and I.
Images from last night began to overwhelm me.
Now that she was almost four Rose insisted on having a real bed, last night had been her first night in her new bed. I was somewhat concerned, she (like her mother, I suppose) was prone to nightmares. I was afraid she was going to roll over in the midst of a fit and fall out of her bed and hurt herself, which in turn would lead into a fight with father to get her to a hospital.
I had stepped out of my own bed and over the pages of sheet music,
books and articles that littered the floor all in lieu of the daunting
dissertation that had taken up the better part of my life.
I found Rose's room empty, the nightlight in her room was turned off and
I inched closer to be sure.
I began to panic when I heard a noise from Clarence’s room just down the
hall. Rose had been standing over him, her hair in a neat little mess. She
began inching closer and closer to a sleeping Clarence.
She appeared to be saying something but I couldn’t make it out
“Rose” I scolded her quietly as to not wake my parents sleeping
next door, “What are you—“
That was when Father stormed in cutting me off, He too had been watching
the scene not to fond at all of Rose’s antics. He demanded her to tell
him what she was doing. When she wouldn’t answer him, he placed both hands on
her shoulders and began to violently shake her demanding an answer.
I knew I had to stop him and attempted to push him away all while
smelling the scotch on my father’s breath. He now had a grasp on my arm, which
I suppose was better than hers.
He didn’t speak any harsh words, his grasp tightening. When he let me go I
realized I had bitten right through my lip.
“Mommy”, Rose had said walking towards me with her hand outstretched.
She placed a tiny pair of sharp scissors that I used to cut her hair ribbons
into my hand. I always made it a habit to hide sharp thing from her in case she
might try to hurt one of her cousins. Had I not put these in the top of my
closet ?
Clara : I have to hide scissors so she won’t go all stabby on other children ? Why why ? Why would you do this to me.
LiLe : Seriously
I pushed the memories from last night out of my mind and began searching for my
car keys and packing up my laptop. I stopped for just a second in the mirror
taking the time to pile on makeup to cover my scars, they were nothing more
than hideous discolorations and deep indentations that would never really heal.
Somehow I had come to terms with the idea, they were like a stain that I
couldn't wash off. Although at times I found myself trying to.It was not
hard looking at them so much as looking at old photos of what was before. I
keep thinking one day I'll see that woman in the mirror again. . . just
for a few seconds.
I knocked on the frame of Rose’s door before peeking in around the door frame.
It was still strange to see her crib replaced with a twin sized white oak
bed. It was an original and hand made with heart shaped cut-outs with her name
inscribed on it.
Rose sat around her tea table, her dolls and stuffed animals filing almost all
the seats. Her jet black hair fell in large curls touching her shoulder. She
looked up at me, her large fair eyes looking over me as if she knew she had
done something wrong.
Nanny Ella and I had agreed that Rose was quite smart for her age, perhaps it
was all the time she spent with adults. She insisted on dressing herself.
She liked to wear butterflies and had dressed herself in a black t-shirt with
butterfly foils and a beaded bracelet with checkered skirt with tights.
Rose is classier than this she probably wears a lot of light pastel solids
like polo dresses, tights and shoes.
Without so much a word I picked her up, taking her Raggedy Ann doll with
me. The red headed doll had once again the brunt of Rose’s tantrum and
would need her arm sewn back on.
“Where are you going ?”, mother asked as we came down the stairs.
“To the park”, I decided on the spot
“At least take breakfast with you. . . and Clara”
“Yes, Mother”
"Please be patient with your father"
"I'm tired of being patient"
Logic : Why doesn’t she just get her
own place ?
LiLe : Well she’s sill afraid after having been confined for 3 months. She’s
afraid of running into another Spectre. Clara is a PHD candidate so she makes
very little money. Plus she is afraid that if she hires a baby sitter Rosalie
might do something to her. Even more Clara is afraid of what Rosalie might do
to her. . .
I knew I shouldn’t be upset with her, My father’s temper towards Rose was as much my doing as anyone. Every time I was a step closer to leaving his home. . . something pulled me back.
The kitchen was empty now and I slipped in to grab the morning paper keeping it out of Rose’s view.
+2+
I drove around town a bit. If it had been a weekend and time permitted I had
always found a calm reasonable place by taking weekend trips to New Haven to
visit Emile.
Like my family he’d never asked to many questions, but I felt he may have cared
more for Rosalie than my family would allow themselves.
When Rose was a baby she would fall asleep on the long drive to New Haven
and Emile and I would both sit on the floor till midnight rehashing
politics and music while he made fun of my benevolent father.
I found a parking space at the park and as soon as she was free from her car
seat Rose was hesitant to leave the car but assured her the park would be
quiet today and she wouldn't have altercations with some of the other children.
I was sure she tried but it was difficult for her to get along with them.
We had breakfast under the shade of a willow tree while I read a little bit to
Rose. She asked to play and I was some what concerned about the steep hill
at the edge of the park where I sometimes feared she might fall into the
lake below,
I’ve mentioned this before but in the original ending Rosalie was going to die by being drowned by Martin in that lake.
I watched from underneath the shade a Rose settled onto a nearby swing. The wind lightly blew her curls and I suppose if she had been upset with my father she wasn't anymore.
It’s almost as if some force unseen
by Clara is comforting her. . .hmm.
I pulled out the morning paper I had snagged from the kitchen, the
picture on the front page more than the headline now began to stick out to me.
They had found a body.
A body of a teenager.
He appeared older not yet out of adolescence, his hair slightly longer but I
recognized him.
What was his name ?
Joshua, yes that was it.
Somehow the name alone sent shivers down my spine. I took out the article and
re-read it numerous times.
His death was a genuine accident, a drunk driver at night. According to the paper Joshua was known as 'John Doe" I didn't really know anything about Joshua, but perhaps he at least needed a name other than John Doe. I considered calling the police but there were to many dots to connect.
Even after all these years
I closed my eyes and forced myself remain reasonable
Joshua would be around 15 now, a growing young man whose life had been cut
short, again it seemed. It didn’t sit well with me so I put the paper away and
turned to my school work and the pile of undergrad papers I had to grade.
Still there was something unsettling.
“Look what I found”, Rose walked over to me, her outfit now covered in dirt,
there was something in her hand. As she came closer I saw it was a glittery
pink envelope that was decorated with piano stickers.
“What is this ? Where did you get this ?”, I asked her. She had a terrible
habit of taking things from Ella or Clarence’s room without asking. I looked
around realizing we were the only ones in the park.
“I found it”, she said as if she had done something wrong.
I took it from her and sent her off to play, the envelope was heavy and inside
was a ‘Thinking of you’ greeting card For a moment it felt as if my heart
had stopped and I pushed such foolish thoughts from my mind and opened
the card.
She thought it was from Mr. F ): but he’s dead.
There was a short message inscribed inside.
Dear Clara
Rosalie Emmeline Romano
August 3rd 2008 – July 3rd 2011
Rest in Peace
Let’s Play
- Victor
So now that Victor has lost the body he has spent all these years learning to inhabit but he has a plan B.
http://lindaleighblog.blogspot.com/2010/10/words-words-and-more-words.html