Part I
+1+
It was just past midnight.
Joy had spent the rest of the evening trying to comfort Rosalie. I couldn't bring myself to move from the chair in the parlor, staring at that emptry music box. It was so pretty and so . . . useless.
My heart jumped as I heard footseps behind me.
“Clara ?”, Joy asked sweetly from behind me.
“Yes”, I whispered not really wanting to make conversation.
“I just want you to know Rosalie is asleep”, she let out a breath, “I guess she just cried herself to sleep.”
Now that unnerved me. Rosalie never cried. At least not for me. Never. Not even as a baby.
I walked past Joy and upstairs to Rosalie’s room. Her room was almost a replica of the light blue and gold room she had in England. It was a little smaller which just meant all of her stuff was piled closer together. Her night light displayed stars across the room.
She was sleeping and despite things it was nice being just the two of us again. Well, almost the two of us.
As if sensing me Rosalie turned around, not looking the least bit sleepy despite the late hour. For a few minutes she looked and waited for me to speak.
“Rosalie, we need to talk about--”
“About Papa?”
“Um, yes. You see Rosalie I’m sure you understand crime and punishment.”, I knelt beside her bed.
“Yes”
“Well Mr. Fierro he well. . . he might not be back for a while.”
“Beacuse of Grandpa ?”
“Yes, because of what happened to grandpa”, This was the last thing I wanted to talk to her or anyone about.
Cluctching her elephant to her chest and sat up in her bed.
“No, Mommy. Papa, didn’t do anything to Grandpa. He didn’t. I know, I really do.”
“I know Rose, but that doesn’t matter. You’re just a child and . . .”
I lost my train of thought as I noticed Rose’s large unblinking eyes. The pale iris, when I thought about it, were the color of cream mixed with a tiny drop of blood.
“You lied mommy”
“I didn’t lie I. . .I’m just protecting you--us. It can be just you and me again. We can go anywhere. Won’t that be fun ?Isn’t that what you want ?”, I mustered all my strength to smile.
“Mommy, why do you keep lying ?”
“I’m not”, I said warping my arms around myself and standing
“You never protected me. You never wanted me. Not like Papa.”, she said
“Rose”, It came out an angry whisper, “Don’t say things like that. And stop . ..”
I tightened my grip on her, both my hands on her shoulder. For a second I just wanted to shake her. To make her stop saying things like that. She was supposed to love and protect me not him.
She squirmed away from me and ran into Joy’s room, the door locked behind her.
I stood and peered down the stairs, pulling at my hair till a few strands came out. I closed my eyes and opened them when I heard footsteps behind me.
“Miss ?”, I turned to see Joy behind me.
“Is she okay ?”, I asked turning on the step, “I don’t know what’s come over me lately. Things have been difficult”
" I’ve never seen her so upset”
“Really ?”, I said thinking of all the tantrums and torture Rosalie had put me through since her birth
“I’ve never really seen her upset until. . .”, Joy started but didn’t finish.
“Unitl what ?”, I said walking back up the stairs to her.
“Until you came around.”,she finished
“Really ?”, I said. My tone like venom. What did this woman know about me anyway ?
“I’m just saying we were happy together. All of us. We were a family.”
I held in a laugh and turned away from her.
“Oh, God please stop”, I said laughing at her, well the vodka was laughing at her, “Honestly what is it with you nannies and the men you work for ? What you live in thier hourse care for thier kids and you think that means he loves you. How stupid can you be.”
“You’re wrong”, she called
“Like hell I am”, I turned away from her, “You know. I don’t really need or want you here. I think it’s time you left.”
I started to make my way down the stairs and Joy quickly left. I turned wandering where she had gone. Once I reached the second step I heard her behind me again.
She was breathing hard, at first I thought she was going to say something, but the only sound I heard was my own scream as everything went black
+++
The small farmhouse in Monroe Country was quiet that night. Except for the sound of Joy Westmore’s ragged breath and silent tears. Her hands dropped to her knees and she realized she was hyperventilating.
Joy Westmore had watched horrified as the woman had fallen almost gracefully down the flight of wooden stairs. Clara DeLune landed on her back, her legs awkwardly bent on the last step, her hair splayed out on the rich dark wood.
A scream was caught in her throat and Joy dropped the silver “C” in her hands, its shiny silver surface now covered in a thick layer of blood.
Joy was far from an angry woman, but Clara's words and the truth to them had in a few moments become to much for her. Now she was forever in over her head.
Joy brought her hands to her mouth and watched in disgust as the blood pulled from Clara DeLune’s head, seeping into the floor. Clara’s heavily rimmed eyes leaked black makeup down her scarred face.
Joy made a step downstairs but couldn’t bring herself to get closer to the mess she had created. She just been so angry
“Mommy ?”, a voiced called out from behind
Joy turned to see Rosalie step out of her bedroom with Melody safe and secure in her arms .The little girl approached Joy. Together they looked down at the splayed and bleeding figure of the girl's mother.
Before Joy could protest, Rosalie made her way down the stairs taking them one at a time to her mother’s limp figure. The little girl kneeled down and pressed her small hand to her Mother’s neck.
“Come here “, Joy tried to call to her, “You shouldn’t see this”
“She’s so cold”, Rosalie said. Her hand on her mother’s low thrumming pulse.
“Maybe if I--”, Joy began
“No”, Rosalie cried. Stopping Joy from getting any closer,“She’s dead. . . You killed her.”
“Oh, God. I'll call the hospital I’ll tell them it was an accident--”
“No”, the girl’s voice was urgent, “ You have to leave. . . go back home. . . before someone finds out. . . or. . . or they’ll take you away too. I don’t want to lose you too.”
“I can’t just leave you”, Joy was still as far from the body as she could get.
“I can call my Aunts. . . I don’t want the police to take you too.”
Joy’s heart fell. This little girl could very easily be losing everyone in one day, one night
Joy’s looked from the girl to the body and realized that the child seemed to be the smartest one at the moment. Trying to stay calm Joy stepped over the body and rummaged through the kitchen drawers till she found an easy to open liquor bottle.
At the stairs Rosalie was still in the same position, the blood was touching the edge of her nightgown.
Joy opened the bottle of liquor and poured the alcohol into and over the woman's lips. When it was empty she placed the bottle in her limp hand. Tears streamed down Joy’s face the entire time, but apart of her was glad she was dead.
“I’ll be back.”, Joy said in a comforting tone, “When I leave call the police and tell them she was drinking and fell down the stairs. I’ll be in London have them call me and I’ll come back for you.”
Rosalie waited silently as the nanny ran from room to room packing her things. She watched as Joy wrapped the silver door decoration in a bedsheet to be disposed of later.
The nanny wrapped herself up in a winter coat and scarf. She threw her suitcases into one of the cars in the garage. The image of Ms. DeLune’s body still plaguing her. She gave one last glance at the girl she had been charged with caring for.
“Wait”, the girl had pulled herself from the gruesome scene and followed joy to the car,”You’ve been so nice. Like a real friend. You’re the nicest person I’ve ever met.”
Joy smiled before getting into the car.
Rosalie watched from the door as the car disappeared down the road, she was certain she wouldn’t see Joy again.
Rosalie with Melody in tow made her way over to her mother. She set Melody in a clean spot on the floor then began stroking her mother’s long s black hair, fingering the curls.
With careful fingers she unclasped her mother’s charm necklace. It only had one charm but Rosalie always thought it was pretty.
“You lied Mommy”, she whispered, “Now you have to be punished”
+2+
Some hours past midnight the usually silent house in Monroe Country was once again disturbed. First by a police car dropping the house's owner and then by a pair of headlight in the distance.
The windows were all light and to none the wiser the house almost appeared inviting.
The headlights belonged to a small red car that settled in the middle of the driveway, the car was loud and scratched but he car had been on quite a journey.
The owner of the red car, Emile, was a friend and confidant of the man who lived in the house. None of this was the reason for his visit tonight.
Hastily Emile approaced the front door ringing the bell. It was late and he noticed the brightness of the evening stars, something only country-life seemed to afford.
Emile smiled and settled on his heels as little Rosalie Fierro opened the door.
“Rose”, he said surprised, “What are you doing up this late ?”
“I’m not tired”, she said
She attempted to stand infront of him as Emile made his way into the house. Although Emile had never visited this particular house it still felt very familiar to him.
“Where is your--”
“He is sleeping”, she finished. . She was now stayed planted in the hallway. Not letting Emile easily pass.
“I need to speak to him, please”, he added, “Maybe if you wake him I’ll give you a little treat”
This didn’t seem to deter her, but she liked Emile and she wanted to make him happy. She took his large hand into hers and led him through the back hall and into the kitchen.
“Wait here”, she said
He sat at the table, recoiling at the large knife and the mutilated pie on the table.
“Dear, God”, he said involuntary.Pushing the mess away.
He waited a few moments and then a few moments to longer. After several more moments he walked out of the cramped kitchen coming eye to eye with Fierro in the hall. For the first time he noticed the blearniess to the man’s pale eyes and the wrinkes in his black clothes.
He realized he had never seen him tired before.
“Emile”, he greeted him, “It is quite late”
“Yes, and how has your night been ?”
“Not well”, he said absently, “ Apparently someone has been in my bed.”
“What ?”
“Again. What brings you here Emile”
“I had to come down the moment I found out you were accused of running over that poor detective. You should have called me. You know I was with you when it happened. Imagine my surprise when I went down to the station to clear your name and was told you had already been released. Now look Clara has just lost her father, I think you have done enough to her already”
“It is all almost over for Ms. DeLune”, He replied his eyes darting around.
Emile squinted at him, trying to detect if he meant any harm by his statment. He then focused past the man; to the foyer, the steps and to the floor where the light from upstairs highlighted something unusal.
“What in God’s name”
Emile reached for all the lamps in the hall, each of them was missing a light bulb. The only light that worked was the dim overhead lights.
Fierro followed Emile’s gaze, his eyes for the first time noticing the dark red stain embedding itself into the wood. In the dark he had simply missed but in the light. . .
“Fierro, where is Clara ?”, Emile asked and edge to his usual jovial voice.
Fierro couldn’t tear his gaze away from the stain and glanced up the stairs.
“She left”, he said simply, “She became frustrated and left.”
“Is that blood ?”, Emile stepped a little bit closer catching a scent of cooking sherry.
“Of course not”, he admonished him, “Ms. DeLune must have dropped a bottle of her wine”
“I don’t think--”
"Don't defend her Emile. Between her and the child I have lost 3 vases."
Fierro turned back to the man leading him toward the front door, an unsteady arm on Emile’s back.
“Emile, it is late you should leave. I am certain Ms.DeLune will turn up sooner than later. I want to find her as much as you do.”
“Fierro”, Emile stopped him, his hand on his arm,”Whenever I have a conversation with you. I feel as if you know more than you are letting on.”
“Good-night, Emile”, he said simply, "For once I know as much as you"
“Good-night. Oh I almost forgot--”, Emile reached into his coat pocket and produced a round spherical mint and pressed it into hands., “This is for Rosalie”
Those were Emile’s parting words. He took his time going back to his car. For a moment he stood in the yard watching the bright stars.
Inside the house Fierro watched as Emile slipped back into his car and his headlights dissappread into the darkness.
Kneeling beside the red stain he pressed his pale palm against the wood, leaving a thin layer of blood on his hand.
He looked up to see Rosalie standing above him on the steps. The music-note necklace catching in the over head light
He held out his hand, the one not covered in blood, to her.
“Where is she Rosalie ?”, he asked calmly, as she walked towads him “What did you do to her ?”
“You’ll be mad at me.”
He closed his hand
“I wouldn not think of it. Tell me”
Rosalie hestiated but the child in her wanted to tell someone, she didn't like keeping secrets.
“I wanted to teach Mommy a lesson so I did.”
Part II
+3+
It was dark
My mouth was dry, It felt as if I was recovering from a hangover instead of a hit in the head. My hair felt damp against the hard floor beneath me.
I opened my eyes to pure darkness. I breathed in. A cool clean earthy smell assaulted my senses.
I reached out into the darknes only to find there wasn’t much to reach out into. My hands felt up against rough wood barely an inch above me. My legs were shoved into an awkward angle. One of my shoes was missing and I could feel the cold wood against my right foot.
There was just enough room for me to turn my shoulders so I was lying on my back. I pressed my palm above me, there was less than an inch of space.
“Oh My God”, I felt some give or space in the surface and some lose dirt feel into my mouth. I kept feeling the spaces trying to stick my fingers through the dirt but it was too deep.
I coughed as more loose dirt feel on me.
I was in a packing crate.
I was underground
I screamed
“Rosalie”, I screamed as loud as I could more, forcing my fist against the top of the crate. Causing more dirt to fall into my mouth.
II knew I wasn’t being rational. She was just a little girl but somehow I knew she had done this. I didn’t want to stop and think how.
I started shivering involuntary. It was so cold tonight that I could just imagine the top soil freezing on top of me.
Despite trying to stay calm I started to hyperventilate, pushing and pressing against the wood to no avail. I screamed until my I started to lose my voice. I just couldn't be in small spaces.
I screamed even though mo one could hear me.
Involuntary tears started to fal into my mouth, mixing with the dirt and turning into mud.
The ground started to shake there was a low grumble, I realized it was a car engine. The car didn’t cut the engine and after a few seconds it pulled away again.
Determined, I began to scratch at the thick layer of dirt and yelled louder till the air felt thick around me .After several minutes my hands became sore my nails cut down.
What felt like days later but was porbably only hours I heard another car. It hurt to make a sound but I kept pressing against the wood.All I could think about was how I missed the smell of fresh air
For a long time my eyes were wide open and no matter how much my body wanted to give up, it never would.
+++
I was quiet as I heard scarping. . . like shovels.
Through a hole in the crate I saw the the rounded edge of a tiny bright red patent leather shoe. I squinted as dirt fell into my eyes,
“Rosalie Emmilne Fierro, you evil little--”
I didn’t want to finish that sentence. She was a child, I could out smart a child.
“Let me out of here Rose.I’’m not mad,” I said sweetly through gritted teeth, “I’ll read to you. I’ll buy you all sorts of pretty things”
Nothing
Rosalie stepped away and I heard someone behind her.
“Good Evening, Ms. DeLune”
At first I thought I was hearing things, then I saw the immaculate soles of his shoes.
“Let me out of here”, I didn’t have to try to sound helpless.
“Ms. DeLune I’m very tired of playing games.It is quite simple. I will let you out if you decide to tell me the truth. . . everything.”
“I--I-I Can’t”, I managed, “Why aren’t you in jail”
“You know good and why.”
“Let me out of here”, I realized I had no idea how to bargain with him. I had very little he wanted and didn't already have.
He shoveled a little more dirt on top.
“Stop !”, I screamed.
“I want the truth”
“I can’t”, I said as more dirt rained down,“You wouldn't do this’”
My answering came as more dirt was piled on, I closed my eyes realizing how terrible it was watching the darkness come.
“What do you say Ms. DeLune ? I have nothing against keeping you here. This way I’ll always know where you are.”
“This is your fault”, I yelled, “It’s your fault he’s dead”
Soil began to rain down on me and soon I was back in the familiar dark silence. Mentally I chastized myself for losing my temper.
"No !", I started screaming my nails digging into the wood, but it's all in vain.
I can't be in the dark anymore, but I don't want to face the truth.
For a long time, a day maybe. Hours on end I’m certain. All I can do is think about the past few months. I feel like I’ll always be in the dark, alone and to be honest a little scared. After a while I start to spill all my secrets into the darkness.
I managed to pull of my hair ribbon out and began to and run it through my fingers for hours on end.
The shaking never stops.
The anxiety doesn't go away
I'm just scared
+++
It's been years, I"m sure when I heart it.
A little sound and I feel the pressure lifting. It’s still dark but it’s a different day, the stars look different.
Soon I see his spotless soles and Rose’s bright red ones.
I stick my fingers through the spaces in the crate, stretching my fingers out as far as they will go.
“ I’ll tell you the truth”, my voice is so small
“Everything”, His tone is dark
“Everything”
“To the police ?”
“Yes”,
“To your mother?”
“Yes”
“To your sistersr”
“Yes”, my voice was dry,”Please let me out”
“I don’t know. Rosalie, do you think Mommy’s learned her lesson ?”
“No”, she said in a righteous unjust voice only a child could use.
“Yes, yes I have. Belive me.”
I coughed as a cloud of dirt hit me in the face and I began to see the entire night sky through the spaces.I close my eyes as he removes the lid, more dirt falling onto my eyes
I untwist myself grasping the grass to stand. Before I can get my bearing Mr. Fierro reaches in and picks me up. My arm is slack around his neck and I press a hand to his chest to stop him as Rosalie skips to the car.
“I want you to know I deserver everything that’s happened to me”, I whispered
“I doubt that”
I put both my hands on his shoulder and lower myself so I can stand my unsteady feet. I balance on just my one foot that still has a shoe and lean against him. My eyes finally catch his watchful gaze and when I was sure I had his attention I push him into empty crate.
Quickly, I limp for my shoe in the bushes considering all the ways I could escape. No sooner could I revel in my very small victory I am once again trapped in his arms . He carries me to the car tossing me in the backseat. He leans in, his lips inches from mine and he whispers.
“You can not run from the truth anymore Ms. DeLune”, he said slamming the car door shut.
In the rear view mirror I catch my reflection. I am caked in alcohol, mud and blood. So much blood. I run a hand on the back of my head, not quite sure what I am feeling.
I flinch as Rosalie(who I hadn’t even notice dwas sitting next to me) starts wiping my face with a damp cloth. As the car lurches forward I noticed one of my work dresses is on the floor
“Start talking, Ms. DeLune”, Mr. Fierro ordered making a sharp turn that presses me into the door.
It was a 37 minutes drive from Monroe Country to Rochester. The longest 37 minutes of my life.
---
A/N - Oh, the next chapter is coming soon. In case you are wondering the 3rd person narrator tends to be tailored depending on the characters. Also, Jarred Leto speaking french *swoon* !
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