How dare he accuse me of using the knife! If I even touch the knife, I would remember, wouldn't I? I thought, but I had my doubts. I still don’t remember what happened after my mother held my gaze. The friendly nurse I saw earlier led me to the foyer, after speaking briefly with Dr. Gondar. We sat there for a while, waiting for something.
“My apologies, for it seems I have forgotten to explain the happenings of the past few days. I thought you would have known yourself.” She explained, “Ah, where do I start? Well, after the police arrived at the house, Diane…your mother was close to death, but so were you. The police arrested Jack and rushed Diane to the hospital. It was awhile before they found you, they didn't even know of your presence until Diane became conscious for a few moments. She kept repeating ‘Ann, Ann my sweet Ann’.” She glanced quickly at me before continuing.


“I had just arrived when she started talking. Others tried to get other answers out of her, but that was all she said. I understood her though; I rushed to the basement in order to find you. I found you curled in a dark corner; it looked as if you were memorized by the lights that flashed along the concrete walls. In your hands, you held a bloody cooking knife.” She continued by I heard none of it, for I lived it instead.


I remember it clearly now, how she cradled me in her arms and carried me towards the ambulance. She already left the knife on the ground; she soothed me as we rode to the hospital. How she stroked my hair as I slipped unconscious as they drugged me. I couldn't recall waking up though.
“Andrea?” I whispered.
She gave a nervous laugh and replied,”They said you had to remember me yourself, because it would just make it worst for me to just tell you.”
“Oh…”
“Yea…” Awkward, is what she was probably thinking.

My sister’s and I weren't always so close, especially after Ariel was sent to Foster Care. I guess we were just to scared to get too close to each other, in fear that we would be separated one day.


The rest of the day was a blur, but not because I couldn't remember but because I didn't care to remember. Andrea drove me to her house to explain more about my situation. She explained that my mother had slipped into a coma like I did, but she did not wake up. Just yesterday she had passed away, and my father was waiting for his sentence. Annette hasn't heard any of the news because she was on her honeymoon in Florida. Ariel was also not bothered to be told this for she is just six years old, and is happily living with her foster family.


Andrea’s house what set with different shades of grey, and splashes of deep red. In her living room there was a bookshelf that covered one whole wall, and was filled with thick volume books. The house had a rich lilac smell to it, and it was comforting considering the events that occurred. Her house was located on a quiet side street away from all the traffic noise and all you could hear was the birds chirping sweetly outside, so that also helped calm my nerves. Andrea let me sleep in the guest room because it was getting late, but I had trouble sleeping. I was afraid of the nightmares I knew would come, but I was also afraid that if I didn't sleep my thoughts would wander to things I’d rather not think about.


I woke up in the morning to the smell of bacon and pancakes. I remember my mother use to make that for breakfast when I was around Ariel’s age, but that was then. A brief wave of sorrow washed through me, but I pushed it off before I could get too emotional.
I wobbled into the kitchen, Andrea explained to me of my injuries yesterday. She said that I would be sore and have trouble walking for the next couple of weeks. She found out from the doctor that it seemed as if I fell down a set of stairs, but he was unsure.

“I didn't know you cooked.” I blurted out not thinking.
“Well I had to learn if I wanted to get away from all the fighting.” She laughed, but it sounded a little off.
I sat down at her oak table; I wondered how she got the money to afford all this stuff. She is single, as far as I know.
“Wait, when you left you said that dad kicked you out of the house.” I said confused on why she had lied to me.
“I didn't think you were fully aware of the fighting going on at the house and I didn’t want you to know that I was moving out because of how bad it was.” She seemed so casual about it.
“You didn't think I was aware! I was very aware of the fighting and the abuse! I witnessed it first hand when I was eight! I was terrified when Annette, Ariel, and you left me there.” I exclaimed to her, unaware of the shock I had cause her by my outburst.
“I’m so sorry I didn't know. I guess I wasn't really thinking about you, I was so selfish when I was a teenager. I didn't even think to think about my younger sister.” She said in shame. I regret ever releasing my frustration out on her; I just want to kick myself right now.
“I’m sorry too; I shouldn't just burst out like that, especially on someone five years older than me.”
“Yeah, because your just a silly sixteen year old.” She replied with a laugh.
“Yeah well a silly sixteen year old can fight very well.” I said with a challenge.
“Do you want to test that theory?”
“Bring it on older sister!”
“Okay then!” We started play fight until the smell on burned bacon stopped us.
Later Andrea had to leave to go to the hospital, because she worked there full time. I wandered the house looking for something to do; I stumbled across Andrea’s room. The place was very dark; the walls were a dark grey with black trim. The curtains were midnight black and it blocked out the sunny day. Her room was the only place that didn't smell like lilac, but instead it smelt like gasoline. I flicked on the lights, to brighten up the room, but the dim light only made it look creepier. I quickly turned the light back off, closed the door, and ran as quickly as I could away from the dark room that is Andrea’s.

I waited all day in the sitting room, which was the cheeriest room in the house, as I tried to forget Andrea’s bedroom. I still wondered how she got the money to afford such a big house, with overly decent furnishing. Andrea found my there, staring out the window, I don’t know what see saw on my face but I guess she knew it wasn't good.
“What’s wrong?” She asked in a concerned tone.
“Nothing.” I replied blankly.
“Like I’m going to buy that, I know something’s wrong. It’s written all over your face.”
“I guess that fact that my mother is dead, finally hit me. What is to become of me?” I answered solemnly, looking up with watery eyes.

To be honest the fact just hit me, my father is waiting for his jail sentence and my mother’s deceased. I just assumed I would stay with Andrea until I was old enough to get a place on my own. Andrea would be busy with her job, I would probably end up being lonelier then ever, and I don’t want to burden her with my presence. As far as I can remember I never was the greatest company, but then again I don’t remember much anyways.

“Uh, I can’t have you stay here. It just wouldn't be fair to you; you need someone who would give you comfort and company. I just don’t fit that description, I’m struggling already and I’m just too busy. I’ve been given two options for you to consider, you can either be sent to Children’s Aid, or live with the nearest living relative. I can only give you a day to consider it, by tomorrow you have to be up and out, sorry.” She answered grimly. I guess I never consider how bad of an impact Andrea’s life had on her, she did have to move out with she was sixteen.


I considered each option quickly. If I were to go to Children’s Aid, then I would be put in a family I don’t know. If I were to go to my closest living relative I won’t know them either because I’ve never met any of my relatives before, with the exception of my grandmother. “You must listen with your heart.” I recalled my grandmother’s words from when I was very little. I listened, and listened, I couldn't hear anything. Andrea left seeing that I was in deep thought. In the end I thought it would be best if I just moved in with my closest living relative. I just hoped they were nothing like my father.


The next day when Andrea was at work, I returned to her bedroom prepared to look for a family tree or something because I couldn't seem to find one anywhere else. I opened the curtains to decrease the creepiness of the room. I started digging through the closet first, looking through old photo albums and stuff. Then I started looking underneath the bed, and came across a think white book. It looked out of place in the room of darkness, but it also looked right for some odd reason. I undid the thin strap that wrapped around it, keeping the stray pages in and opened it, only to regret it. The book was filled with diary entries dating back to March 2005 up until this morning. I tucked into my shirt and erased all the evidence of my presence in the room. I closed the door firmly behind me and concealed myself into the guest bedroom.


My single suitcase was packed and ready to go when Andrea returned home late that evening. The diary was hidden deep in the suitcase, packed within my only purse. Andrea drove me to my new house, my closest relative wasn't that close at all. She was my aunt on my mother’s side, according to Andrea that would be good from me because ‘Aunt Mildred’ would provide more support than she could.


Mildred lived in the rural part of town, and was a hour away from Andrea’s house. It was nearly midnight when we arrived at Mildred’s farm house. She ran out to greet us, dresses in her house robe and slippers. The air smelt nothing like the city, instead of fumes and smoke it was manure and hay.
“Welcome! Welcome! I've always wanted to meet my sister’s other daughter! My other nieces are spoiled and bratty; I only hope that you’re different. You’re sister’s are sweet, so I assume you’re just like them, but I could be wrong. I sure hope I’m not though because we already have our hands full with Nicholas and Kendrick. It’s cold outside for heaven’s sake! You’re not even wearing a jacket, it’s the middle of winter! Come in, come in.” She urged us happily.
“Oh no, it’s okay Aunt Mildred. I really must be going, I have to get up early tomorrow, or today for that matter. Good luck Ann, I hope you find what you’re looking for.” My sister said as she turned to leave. I watched as she drove away, and disappeared down the street. What does she mean; ‘I hope you find what you’re looking for’?

I followed Mildred inside the fairly large house, where a five year old child nearly jumped on me. I gently pushed him aside before he could get very far. I’m not the biggest fan of children.
“Kenny! Why are you up? You should be in bed; you have to get up early for school tomorrow. Nicholas Dylan Anderson! How could you let this happen? You’re supposed to help me discipline him. You know how important it is to teach them while they’re young. Geez, how can I expect to trust you when you can’t even take care of a simple instruction and you want me to allow you to hang out with you’re so called ‘friends’.” She said disappointingly. I briefly looked around the not-very modern styled hallway. A teenage boy with messy black hair was leaning against the wall by the doorway to the kitchen. He stared at me in a familiar way; it made feel uncomfortable, like he was comparing me or something.
“Both of you go upstairs and get some sleep. I don’t want to see you until the sun’s up.” She commanded them. They both turned and climbed the stairs at the end of the hallway. Mildred turned to me and spoke, “Come, we must talk.”


She turned and led me to the kitchen table. We sat down and she stared intensely into my eyes.
“You eyes are exactly like your mother’s when she was young, but hers were much darker. Yours are very pale grey, ones like I've never seen before. Now please tell me, how is your mother?” She said calmly.
I was surprised she complimented my eyes, nobody has before. There’s not really much to compliment about them anyways. Nobody has really complimented me on anything. That’s probably because I've never really talked to anybody much anyways, not that I want to.
“Uh…you haven’t heard? My mother passed away a few days ago.” I said with my head bowed.
“Oh, I’m sorry to here that. What was the cause?” She asked with an edge in her voice.
“I-I’m not sure.” I stuttered, I’m not completely convinced that it was my father because my memory is still blurred. There’s still the air of uncertainty, for I could have done it for a reason not clear to me.
“I see, I've only heard of your father’s imprisonment. I should have guessed, but I just wasn't sure. It’s getting late; I’ll show you to your room.”


She led me up the flight of stairs, and down the hall. She pointed to the bathroom, and also to the boy’s room. My new bedroom was directly across from Nicholas’s room. Mildred’s room was below, on the main floor. I guess I’m alone upstairs with the boys, sharing a bathroom. Before she could leave I asked a question,
“Um, do I have to attend school?”
“Oh my God no, at least not right away. First you have to get settled and registered at the school. I only heard about your arrival this morning. I had to do some quick arrangements; your Uncle Boris will go down first thing before he goes to work, okay?”
“Okay.” I replied, my voice sounded quiet and hollow. She turned to leave and I started unpacking.
“Okay.” A male voice said, mocking me. I whipped around to see Nicholas leaning on the door frame. I should have closed the door, too late now.
“Did I startle you?” He asked in fake concern.
“What is your problem?” I asked astonished at his behaviour.
“You’re my problem. You think you can just come and settle yourself here? Well you can’t! We've have people like you here, with their own problems. Do you see them now?” He yelled, with anger boiling up inside of him.
“No…” I whispered, slightly scare and flinching at his every moment, images of my father continuously flash before my eyes. He started slowing moving towards me and I backed away until my back was pressed against the wall.
“No you don’t, that because they got so depressed, so mad, that they decided to get rid of themselves. Do you know how big of an impact that had on Mildred, for her to live in a house with sad ghosts just floating around?” He was now right in front of me, his face inches from mine.
“Nicholas, I-I swear I won’t…” I stuttered as he cut me off.
“Don’t call me Nicholas! Pieces of scum like you don’t deserve to address me that way!” He yelled with a glare.
“I-I’m so sorry.”
“You best be sorry. I’m sick of looking at your face, go to bed.” He said in disgust with a secret hidden in his eyes. He turned and left, slamming the door behind him.


I didn't understand what I did to make him hate me so much. He mentioned ghosts; did that mean people killed themselves here? Or was he just trying to scare me? I’m not sure, but I must try to forget it, and move on with the night. I finished unpacking my few belongings, trying my best to make the small room seem more home-like, I put my clothes in the tall oak dresser and hung some in the small closet. I placed my photographs on the small desk in the corner. I threw my own comforter on the bed, storing the one that was already there in the closet. I took Andrea’s diary out and started reading.


I found out that there were things that happened that I didn't know about. Annette and Andrea did their best to shield me away from the things that went on when I was seven. She was twelve at the time; it seemed to be very hard on her. I guess we all had to grow up fast, except for Ariel. I’m very glad that Ariel was spared, for she has a cheerful soul and a kind heart. It just wouldn't be fair for her; it wouldn't be fair for anybody who ever had to go through anything like that.

I couldn't sleep at all; too many things were on my mind. It didn't help that my heart felt like it was about to burst, or that Nicholas or ‘Dylan’ had caused problems even before he knew anything about me. I don’t think he knows what it’s like to feel like you don’t belong anywhere. I don’t think I would be accepted at the new school anyways, I didn't have any friends at my old high school. People would always spread rumours about me and make fun of my natural red hair; they would always say I was cursed by the devil. My sister’s had a better time at school because they looked nothing like me, half of the school didn't even know we were related. I was glad for that because then they didn't get bullied, they had lots of friends. I finally feel asleep around four.

“Wake up sleeping beauty.” He said mockingly as he pour a cup of freezing cold water on my head. I gasped as the water seeped through my tank top.
“Nicholas! What are you doing? Leave Anastasia alone, let her sleep.” Mildred yelled from down the bathroom, while giving Ken a bath. I could hear Ken’s squeals as he slashed around in the tub.
“Yes Mrs. Musset!” He called in her direction, “I thought it would be appropriate to awake the devil’s daughter.”

Was he serious? I couldn't think of a response so I just shoved him away, he barely moved. He was so strong; I could practically feel the muscles through his shirt. My god! He gave a sharp laugh of success, and then he took one last gaze at me and walked out. I was so confused, the way he looked at me was different then the way he acted towards me. I felt as if he was judging my every action.

Later when everyone had left, I entered the bathroom to get ready for the day. When I was done I started doodling out of boredom. I hadn't realized how late it had gotten until Dylan entered my room again.
“Mildred wanted me to let you know that lunch is ready downstairs, she also wants to talk to you about a few things. You draw?” He said the question in astonishment, as if he was really surprised.
“Uh…Yeah, but I’m not any good.” I replied confused by the way his face lit up, and how he was suddenly interested. I quickly closed the black book, before he could peek over.
“Come on you can’t be that bad, let me see.”

He grabbed my art book before I could refuse. I thought about attempting to grab it by thought better of it. He flipped through the book for a few moments before giving it back, and walking out without saying a word. I watched confused as he entered his room and shut the door. I waited a few minutes, but when he didn't come out I went downstairs to where Mildred was waiting at the kitchen table. I sat down and she passed a sandwich on a plate towards me, I didn't care to see what kind for I was suddenly too hungry to care.

“I would like to discuss the arrangement of your education.” I suddenly noticed the seriousness in the air.
“Um…sure go ahead.” I said unsure of where this was going.
“I was informed that you were bullied at your old school, I would just like you to now that the students at Thorne Vine High School are very nice, and they were excited when they heard that there was going to be a new girl coming. There isn't a new person very often, and even though they all grew up together, they are always willing to accept a new student. You will be starting on Monday, in three days. Besides Nicholas would be glad to show you around and introduce you to his friends, isn't that right Nicholas?” I glanced up to see him entering the kitchen.
“Sure sure.” He answered brushing Mildred off.
“Great.” I muttered too low for them to hear.


Just perfect, the person who deeply hates me is going to show me around the new school and introduce me to people. I wouldn't be surprised if he already told people that I’m some possessed psycho path who casts dark spells on innocent children. I remember when that rumour was spread about me once, everyone believed it. I guess I’ll just have to deal with it, like I've done time and time again.

After I finished eating my sandwich, well half a sandwich, I was preparing myself for the journey up the stairs. It was a very painful job to walk up the stair with a sprained leg; or whatever it is Andrea said it was. Either way, it hurt to walk, let alone climb twenty or so number of stairs.
“Also I’d like to note, is your legs okay? I've seen you limping ever since you came here, did something happen?” She asked in a concerned voice. I noticed Dylan look up in interest, what is his problem?
“Oh, I just twisted my ankle the other day.” I lied.
“You should be careful then, don’t do too much on it. Maybe you should sit down. Does it still hurt? I could get you ice or something…” I started to block her out, and kept mumbling “No thank you.”
“Maybe you should go lay down, it does look swollen.” Dylan piped in, smirking, I gave him a glare.
“I agree, do you need any help getting up the stairs?” Mildred offered.
“No thank you, I’m fine.” I replied.
“Nicholas, help her up the stairs and make sure she stays in bed.” She turned to Dylan ignoring my protests.
“No it okay, I’m completely fine.” They both ignored me.


When I refused to stand up, Dylan just picked me up and carried me up the wooden stairs. I gave up trying to fight. I just glared at him or stared at the photographs that were hanging on the walls. He entered my room, shut the door. Placed me on the bed, and then sat down on the desk chair.
“Why do you care?” I asked annoyed.
“I don’t, I just know when people are lying, and you were lying. What is the real reason why you’re limping?”
“That’s none of your business.” I stubbornly said.


He said nothing as I lied there, think of trying to get up but I don’t think I would get very far. The pale yellow walls were surprisingly comforting for my upset mood. The fresh smell of cinnamon didn't do well for my stomach though. Why is it suddenly so hot in here? I pulled the blanket off of me and sat up. That cause Dylan to look up me in surprise, probably thinking I was trying to leave.
“Are you okay?” He said in sudden alarm, “You’re so pale!”
“Aren't I always?” I said with a nervous laugh, my voice sounded so sickly.
“Do you need a bucket or something it looks like your about to hurl!” He stood up suddenly and called Mildred. She came quickly because of the urgency in Dylan’s voice.
“Is she okay? What happened to her?” She sounded scared, but I wasn't sure, things started getting blurry to me. The smell of cinnamon got stronger when Mildred walked in.
“I don’t know she just suddenly got so pale and sickly.”
“Should we call the doctor?”
“What about her therapist?”
“What about school?”
“Where’s Mr. Zebra?”
“Can I get floating now?”

I couldn't make sense of any of this, or who said what. I think some of the things I heard were hallucinations, but I’m not sure. I could get the strength to open my eyes anymore, or the strength to open my mouth to talk. I couldn't even move for that matter. I could just hear, but I still couldn't count on that.
“Anastasia! Answer me! Come on! Are you sure she’s going to be okay?” I think there was worry in the voice.
“Not sure.”
“What can we do?” The same voice was urgent.
“Just let her sleep, it’ll pass.”


Who were they talking about? I tried to asked, but I didn't make a sound. I wanted to know who was so worried, but I couldn't open my eyes. How long has it been, a minute, an hour, a day, or a week? I wasn't sure, but I think I blacked out a one point because then next thing I heard was,
“Ann! Anastasia! Can you hear me?”
Yes, voice I can hear you. Can you please quiet down now, you’re hurting my head.
I don’t think I said it though, because it just kept repeated that. I must have fallen asleep again because when I awoke again, I had a more strength. Not a lot, but just enough to open my eyes and sit up.

I looked around the dimmed room and thought I was back at home. I could even faintly hear my parents fighting. It was just my mind playing tricks on me because I saw Dylan crouched in a chair, asleep. I think I was at the hospital, because the bed feels hard and lumpy. Ugh! That boy confuses me so much! First he hates me to death, and then the next day he is interested in my drawing. After that he just ignores me completely, and then he purposely annoys me to death. Now he actually cares about my well being. Why am I here? I remember being annoyed at him, and then I remember hallucinating. I know there a piece missing in this puzzle, but my head is throbbing and I can’t think straight.


Dylan started stirring in his sleep, almost frightfully, but then he fell out of the chair and woke with a start. I just watched him with curious eyes, wondering what he was going to do next. He paused for a moment, shaking his head, before getting up. He looked towards me and didn't notice I was awake.
“Are you alright?” I asked with a lot of effort.
“You’re awake?” He hesitantly asked.
“Yee…” I meant to say ‘Yeah I’m awake’, but it didn't come out that way.
“I’m guessing not fully.” Dylan laughed nervously.
“What happen…?”
“Did you know you were deathly allergic to cinnamon?”
“Kinda…Just not that much…”
“You should sleep, you have school tomorrow and you should be awake then.”
“Sure…”
The last thing I heard before I fell asleep was his laugh.


On Monday I was fully recovered, and ready for school. I found out that I would have to wake up extremely early if I wanted to beat Dylan for the bathroom. As we waiting for the bus at seven-fifteen, I found out a lot about Dylan. Turns out he was in a similar situation as I was, his father is in jail for child-abuse and murder, and his mother is also deceased. His father killed both his mother and his younger sister. None of his family member’s had the time to raise him, so he went into Children’s Aid and was sent to live with Mildred at age thirteen. Dylan is a year older than I am, so I won’t see him much at school. He’s known as Dylan at school, and nobody calls him Nicholas except for Mildred.


When the bus arrived he led me to the back and introduced me to his ‘gang’. Turns out he is really popular; I never would have guessed that. People kept asking us questions, but he just waved them off. Through out the whole day I never got lost, people would always help me. Some looked really intimidated by me, but others were really friendly. I sat at Dylan’s lunch table; I noticed that the whole school had a social system. Nobody got bullied because of that social system though, but nobody complained or even tried to change it. I guess it felt natural to them though.

My whole week was like that, at least at school. Dylan wasn’t that rude to me anymore, I think that’s because we understand each other better than we thought we would. It turns out we have a lot in common. He said he was shocked that someone like me was interested in something so simple like, drawing and writing. Whenever I asked him what he meant by that, he wouldn’t tell me. According to him, the reason why he was so mean to me was because he didn’t expect me to ‘last’ very long. When he told me that, it seemed like there was more that he wanted to say, but I had decided not to press it out of him because he would just get angry with me and storm away. Dylan was stubborn like that. Eventually he will get around to telling me, when he’s ready to.


Even years later when he moved out of Mildred’s house, we still kept in touch. He would always be there when I needed him and I was always there when he needed me. I learned, after frequent nights at Dylan’s apartment, that he has frequent nightmares even after all these years after. I guess something’s will always stick with you, good or bad. I never thought there was someone out there who understood what I was going through, but I learned that there is always someone who has it worst. I think maybe one day Dylan and I will become more than just friends; but I can only hope.
I think the most important thing that I learned was that no matter how bad something is, it always gets better. I look back at my life now, ten years after, and I’m glad my sister couldn’t keep me in her care and if I choose to go to Children’s Aid I don’t think I would meet Dylan, as a result I don’t think my life would have gotten any better.
As my mother used to tell me, ‘everything happens for a reason,’ so I think you just got to stick through it all, stay strong, and move on…