#hollymirror

Life was normally peaceful for the Rainsworths. They had no rivalries with other families such as the Vessalius and Nightrays who could never cooperate with each other. The Rainsworths were amiable with all of the families and tended to act as a mediator. But that did not mean they did not have their own trials and tribulations. There were those who did not approve of the matriarchy or the fact that the houses had so much power. A women especially should not have access to a door containing immeasurable power. They believed the Rainsworth women should step down and allow the men to lead. There was the occasional attack but the culprits always found out that the Rainsworths were made of tougher stuff besides lace. Though eventually, even the best cannot keep it up forever and something might slip through.

Sheryl would always be haunted by the day that those ruffians got the upper hand. She and Shelly had decided to go on an outing, have a nice picnic at the beach where they could discuss business but also enjoy some time away from the children. Reim had taken a habit of staying with them, and when he, Break, and Sharon were together… life tended to be hectic. It was nice for her and her daughter to spend some alone time together. Shelly had a knack for catching every illness so they normally spent some time a day after she had recovered.

On the way to the beach, they stopped the carriage along the side of the cliff. The view from there was breathtaking. The entire ocean could be seen along with the few houses by the shoreline. It was a nice break from seeing forest for the past hour. Sheryl and her daughter must have done it often because others seemed to have realized it. Their carriage was attacked, one moment they had been enjoying the scenery and the next. The carriage was rushing towards the sand below.

Thinking back, there must have been an illegal contractor who had used their chain to push them off, but at the moment neither had realized. The only thought on their minds was that they were going to be crushed and Sharon would be alone. At the last second Shelly must have come to her senses because she summoned Owl. Owl did his best to save them, he caught the carriage. But Sheryl and Shelly had momentum from falling and were smashed against the side of the carriage. Sheryl did not remember what transpired after that due to her head slamming into something hard. Shelly told her that Owl had taken them, along with the driver to Pandora Head Quarters. Sad that she had slept through the flight.

After that their life was one tragedy after the next. No one would have known for a Rainsworth smiles in the face of adversity, but life was hard. Sheryl’s back had sustained some trauma and her old age hindered her healing. She was told that she would never take another step. Most people would have cried, pleaded for some power to heal them and question how this could have happened to them, what had they ever done to deserve it. Sheryl did not have that comfort. She had to be strong for Shelly and Sharon, Sharon who had taken over the Household while they recovered.

Shelly had always been sickly, many were surprised when she formed a contract with Owl. Using a chain consumed a lot of energy and they were skeptical that she had the strength for it. Yet, injured and recently recovered from an illness. Her dear Shelly had saved them from meeting a messy end and took them to safety. She couldn’t have been a prouder mother. Now while she gained strength day by day, Shelly remained the same. She would get better only to get sick and be set back again.

But they were Rainsworth women, when they could not do something, they found a way anyway. It had always been that way. Originally there were only patriarchies, men ruled the world. Women had no power so they gained it and had kept it. The Rainsworth women had found the strength to fly in a world where women were grounded. Sheryl now saw that same strength reflected in the eyes of her granddaughter.

“Grandmother, I’m going to make a contract. I am going to help protect this family, I know that I am not of age but I hope you understand.” Sheryl wanted to ask her if she thought this through, if she understood the ramifications of her decision. She would not be like her peers, she would now be set apart. But Sheryl said none of this because it was clear to her that her granddaughter was prepared to transform herself for the sake of flying. To throw away her echt life for an extraordinary one surrounded in fantasy.

At parties people always remarked on what a fine dancer she was. They would ask if her father taught her, her uncle or perhaps a tutor was hired. No one ever asked her if her brother had because no one spoke about him. His name became taboo in a way. But that was who had taught her, who had taken his time and given her several lessons.

Oz had never taught her at a specific time of the day or in a specific place. The lessons were a spur of the moment, much how everything was for him. And every one of them was delightful.

Little things would give him the idea; the wind chimes playing on a windy day, a ballroom scene in the Holy Knight book he was reading, and sometimes just because he was bored and he could use it to tease Gil. Oz would proclaim “Let’s teach Ada how to dance.”, play a record, and pull a whining Gil towards him. “Watch Gil, I’ll be doing this with you soon.” He would tell her and begin dancing.

“Master, I can’t dance the girl part!” Gil would exclaim and trip over his own feet as he tried to keep up with Oz. They would giggle for a few minutes until Oz stopped tormenting Gil, and let him go.

 “Gil, you are a lousy dancer, what are you going to do at a Ball?”

“I would not attend a Ball unless I was working there, and if I did dance. I would dance the boy part!”

Ada would always giggle at them and patiently wait for her turn. She had been a quiet girl in the past, and still was sometimes. Some people were surprised to hear her voice because she spoke so little. But Oz spoke enough for both of them.

“Your turn Ada, you can stand on my feet again if you want.” She would nod, and hop on and he would chatter away as the music played. “You won’t go to a Ball for a while, but remember everything I teach you. You don’t always have to dance, you can politely tell someone that you would rather not. If there is a group dance happening, don’t be shy but don’t do it because you think you have to. Most people learn how to dance and dance because they are supposed to. Dancing is fun! So only dance for the fun of it, alright Ada?”

She would smile up at him and they would dance around the room, sometimes knocking into things, and getting in trouble for their music being too loud. But it was nice.

Other times his lessons weren’t really lessons. These normally happened outside on windy days when the wind chimes were playing up a storm. They were some of her most precious memories. Oz would pick her up and start twirling. “The world is playing a song for us Ada!”

Everything would swirl, the whole world would turn into a mixture of green, blue, and whatever flowers had bloomed. It was like she was flying away and her tether was her brother. Ada would squeak in delight and Oz would laugh lightly. He stopped only when he was too dizzy to continue. Then there would be a moment when they reoriented themselves and they would continue. Oz would throw her into the air and catch her, dance with no rhythm, and twirl her with one arm. Then they would grab Gil’s hands and get him to spin in a circle with them. They would dance like that until the chimes died down and then it would normally morph into a game of tag.

Even with her brother returned to her, Ada still missed those days. Days where they didn’t care what anyone thought and just had fun. “Brother?” Ada asked as she knocked on his door. She had taken some time off of school to see him. Oz opened the door with a smile “Ada!” “Would you like to give me another dance lesson?” She asked before he could ask about the record she was gripping in both of her hands.

Vincent didn’t know when he realized, it had always been a fact for as long as he could remember. But somehow, he had always known that the world would have been better without him in it.

Most people would think that his preferred space would be a dark room where he could hide himself from the rest of the world. In all actuality, Vincent’s favourite place was a garden. He never stepped inside, just leaned his crossed arms on the gate. He only came when no one was home or at night when they were asleep. It was a nice place for him to think when he was having one of his off days. They were days when old thoughts sprung up, old memories, old regrets. He tried to work through them but it was hard, sometimes the garden made it better, sometimes worse. Today it didn’t help.

He couldn’t help but wonder how it had all started. Perhaps his no good parents. Having a child with heterochromia was a stigma as is, let alone with a red eye. They must have been cursing him since birth. It was no wonder self-hatred was so ingrained. Then Gil, he had never said so, but Vincent had always suspected that late at night, after he had fallen asleep, Gil would curse his existence. He would question why he let such a worthless younger brother shackle him to a life practically in exile. Maybe Gil left him, only to return minutes later because he was a good person. Vincent doubted he would ever find out. He had always know Gil would have been better off if he had not been born. Their parents might not have abandoned him, and if they had, he would have been accepted by an orphanage. Lived a happy unburdened life.

Living with the Baskerville’s hadn’t helped his mentality. They told him that he was correct. A child of misfortune should not exist. Being proven right had not been a relief, it was more of a death sentence that no one consoled him about. Rather they all kept their distance, never daring to get close because he was going to die anyway. Not even die in the sense of reincarnation, instead his soul would cease to exist. A fate worse than death, that the world would benefit from.

It was this fact that gave him his plan, what he had devoted a large part of his life towards. What he had so desperately believed in, aimed, fought, sacrificed, murdered for! WASTED TIME AND LIFE ON! THAT’S WHY HE SHOULD-

He shouldn’t think like this, it’s just lies, excuses. Vincent closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to focus on the scents of the flowers and the sounds of the crickets. When he opened them, the moon was nearly obscured by the clouds, but he could still faintly make out the garden. She had planted a new flower near the birdbath, he could not tell what kind but the empty space below the bath was now filled. During the day the garden was beautiful. Vincent doubted she had abandoned her old hobby but gardening probably was her new passion. She tended to it every day and under her loving care, the majority of the plants grew. The ones that died, her husband would surprise her with replacements. It was a process and she had always been determined. He knew that in a few more years, everything would flourish. But for now it was a cute modest garden like she had been. Plants that had yet to grow to their full potential but yet vibrant and colorful filled it.

She had been one of his worst mistakes and best decision in so many ways. He had believed that he could control her, manipulate her. She was just another girl in a long line of many. Except she wasn’t. She had tunneled under his walls and taken residence there. Somehow he began to see her not as another girl but the girl. The girl who was following him, never leaving him even when he wanted to, the girl who always seemed to know when he was hiding something. And eventually she became just Ada, the girl he shouldn’t care about but did. At the time he couldn’t care about anyone, and no one could care about him. That put a wrench in his plan. So he fought against it until he couldn’t.

The world had to end for him to accept it and realize that it could never happen. So for once, he controlled her. Vincent sent Ada away and never saw her again because it was for her own good. At first he had not wanted her to get hurt or die, but once the danger was gone. It dawned on him that they could not be together, he would outlive her. Even visiting would be too much for her.

That was a lie to protect himself, another excuse. Perhaps somethings never change.

It would be too much for him, between the two of them, Ada had always been the stronger. After the death of her brother again, the loss of her entire family, her friends, and him… she had still found happiness and continued to fill this world with beauty. She was so very strong. It was really him who had the problem. Yet he preferred she never saw him again, maybe forget about him entirely. That is if she had not already forgotten.

With that last thought, Vincent left, returning to the life that he lived. It wasn’t bad, and he was not alone. Besides his brother, he had the other Baskervilles who had grown to accept him. Despite that he had days where the past plagued him or the empty place inside of him ached. The next day, he would return once he was sure they were gone, to find out what her new plant was.

The day was better for him, the sunlight helped some but he still felt everything, as if a wet blanket was lying on his shoulders. The sunlight was warming it, but there was only so much it could do to help. The couple was gone during the afternoon on the weekends, that was when they went into town.

”

The drawing, it was almost done. The little bunny just needed his red bow colored in and it would be perfect just like everything else she did. Before it could be done, a red spot appeared on her paper, followed by another and another. She stood up and backed away from the table but noticed that the red spots followed her like a trail. The source was a hole in her chest that was steadily releasing the blood. It was quickly covering her white dress in red. A surprised squeak escaped her throat and a pair of bloodied silver scissors fell from her hand and clattered to the floor. That’s when it had dawned on her, she had done it, it was her, she was just saving and keeping safe those she cared about.

“ALICE!!!”

“Alice!!”

“alice!”

“Alice”

“alice”

They all yelled and appeared as if phantoms surrounding their only source for salvation. Each of them repeatedly asking her to help them in some way as the room tilted and shook. The frames on the walls falling to the ground, and the ceiling cracking.

“Get me the other one! The Other One!” the man with the long golden hair screeched at her. His pretty delicate face twisting and shifting until it was barely recognizable. Her sister had always preferred him above everyone else but she had never understood why. Now with one of his masks gone and his arms clawing at her, trying to trap her in his grasp. She couldn’t fathom how anyone could have trusted him.

Then her favorite was desperately screaming at her, his cool gaze alit with a manic fire. “Stop Jack! Stop Him, STOP HIM!!!” Jack had been one of the only people who could make him happy. Now Jack was one of the only ones who could cause him to lose his mind. He too was reaching towards her, as if to grab her shoulders and shake her. Before she could answer him, explain how she had tried to, another voice, rising in pitch, gained her attention.

“Stop me! Stop Me! STOP ME!” her cute little stuffed black rabbit cried. Now bloodstained much like the picture she was coloring. Only he was covered in the blood of those slaughtered unlike her picture which was covered in her own blood. He was racing towards her, arms outstretched, seeking comfort, seeking forgiveness. But he wasn’t at fault, it was those who used and abused him.

Someone was playing with her hair, humming and braiding the strands. “Protect the core, Help the core, Keep it company while I’m gone” the woman with the beautiful voice practically sang, her tone happy with a hint of sadness. The woman’s name and who she was, was always just out of reach, a distant memory from a vastly different time.

Nonetheless, she tore herself from them, trying to put space between herself and them. There was another rumble and chairs and dressers toppled over. She twisted and turned, trying to keep them away from her, but it was all for naught. “Mend. My. Life!” They chanted as they began to fight over her, pushing and pulling her in different directions. The chanting rose in volume and all she could do was fall to her knees and cover her ears as they trapped her.

“end my life” The last phantom said, the one she had nearly entirely forgotten. A mirror image of herself, trapped behind the looking glass. Her voice barely above a whisper as she repeated herself. “end my life”. Those three word were all she needed, they drowned out the others, reminded herself of what mattered, of what happened.

“I AM ALICE!” She yelled and watched as they were all thrown into the crumbling walls. The bloody white dress was gone, replaced with a red, white and black outfit. “That girl did what she could and I’ll finish this.” Alice proclaimed and stormed out of the room, leaving the cries of the phantoms behind, ignoring them as they pulled on the back of her jacket, and the ground tugged at her ankles.  She left the tower behind and entered the cool night.

The leaves crunched under her feet and the wind whistled as it rustled the trees. The more she walked, the less she could hear of the voices. It was a beautiful night despite the chaos. There were gold flecks in the air mingling with the shimmering stars making it seem as if the stars had fallen and were now on the earth, dancing in the wind. Alice breathed deeply and took it all in, the leaves, flecks, stars, and bright moon. So bright and big, as if it could swallow the world.

As she embraced the unusual serenity around her, she began to think. Alice knew that she wasn’t the girl who lived in that tower, she was someone new. They may share similarities and connections to people but that did not make them the same. She didn’t have any real memories of that time, that wasn’t her life. What she had now, those memories of her time spent with Oz, Raven, Sharon, and even the crazy clown. That was her life. That was what made her Alice. Not a life long forgotten. That did not mean she didn’t care about the past or the mistakes made. Alice was going to continue it, finish it, fix everything if she could. She had the power and she had the will.

~*~

Alice woke up to a sunny room and knocking on her door. Her memory of her dream tenuous at best, it was as if it was drifting further and further out of her grasp. Shreds, feelings were the only thing she could really hold onto.

“Alice! Wakey Wakey!” Oz hollered as he entered into the room, kicking the door and striding in with a stupid grin on his face. Alice’s response was to throw her pillow at him.

“You interrupted my thinking!” she yelled at him and he raised his eyebrows. Then he placed his hands behind his back and gave her a sly smile. She hated when he acted like a smug know it all. “Thinking? I thought you may like to know. Gil finished cooking breakfast and if you want any bacon you better hurry~!” He sang and ran out of the room.

“Oy! You better save some for me!!!” Alice shouted as she untangled herself from her sheets and followed after him. Even though she was preparing herself to strangle Oz to keep him from stealing her meal like the thief he was. She couldn’t keep another thought from bubbling up, something left over from her time asleep.