Juniper Halls

Violet was quiet while she sewed. I felt a pang of pity for her. It always used to be what she did with mother. I bit my lip. It was hard not to forget that all of my sisters were going through esactly the same thing as I was.

I pulled a piece of scrap paper out of the drawer and began totting up the Rogers' total. I grabbed Libby's order book from out of the drawer and began flicking through it.

"Table Three..." I muttered, looking for any extras the two had ordered.

I took the expense book off the counter. "We've got a delivery of bread tomorrow," I said, running my finger across the lines. "At eight. So, if that is..."

I trailed off, scribbling down the numbers.

Just like Violet associated Mother's patient fingers with a needle and thread, I remembered them grasping a pencil as she helped me with numbers. She was always a bit of a superwoman.

Violet looked up at the same moment as I did, and I knew she was thinking it too.

"How much do you miss her?" I asked her, even though I knew she wouldn't be able to answer, not truthfully.

Violet

"Very much," Violet replied firmly, determined to be the strong sister in this discussion. "As much as you." Fern nodded and Violet set her sewing aside to lay an arm around her sister's shoulders and draw her closer. With her spare arm, Violet moved the accounts books to the side and pressed Fern's head against her body. She stroked Fern's hair gently and rubbed her back.

They sat like that for some time and then broke apart to resume their tasks.

"She used to hold us like that," Fern said simply. Violet remembered.

"She used to sing to us too," Violet said.

Fern-

I looked up at Violet with a glint of a joke in my eye. "If you're hinting you want me to sing to you, you can forget it."

She even let out a little laugh at that. "Shall I then?"

I shrugged. "If you want."

There was a pause. I could hear Mother's voice in my head, the lullaby she used to sing to me. I used to get to worst nightmares. Sometimes I would scream, and run in my sleep, terrified of something nameless. But whenever I woke up, in a sweat and thinking I was still being chased, there was no one there but Mother with a candle, stroking my hair back and telling me it would be alright. [I know candle = old fashioned, but they seem like an old fashioned bunch].

I smiled at Violet, willing her in my mind to sing, though she didn't have a much better voice than I did. We both sang passably, but our strengths lay in being the leader and her second-in-command.

But I wish somebody would sing to me. I hadn't told Violet, but ever since I had come down those stairs and seen Mother's body, the nightmare had been back.

[hope this is okay]

Violet

Fern smiled at Violet and she smiled back, wondering if that sweet melody was running through her head as well. The words did not matter and they were nothing strange, sung over a thousand cribs each day. But it was their lullaby, the one their mother chose for them.

The urge to sing was strong in Violet, though her voice was weak, though her voice was nothing beside that echo in her head. She hummed a line at first and caught the look in her sister's eyes - a feverish desire. Violet began to sing -

"Golden slumber kiss your eyes,
Smiles await you when you rise.
Sleep,
pretty baby,
Do not cry,
And I will sing a lullaby.

Cares you know not,
Therefore sleep,
While over you a watch I'll keep.
Sleep,
pretty darling,
Do not cry,
And I will sing a lullaby. <Source.>

I felt a tear prick to my eye. It wasn't because of the song, its silly lyrics, or because Vi's voice was stunningly beautiful or anything, it was just because of the memories it brought back.

I stifled a sob. Violet went to put an arm around me, but I stepped away.

"You go to bed," I told her. "I'll be fine. We've got an early start in the morning."

"What about you? Come on, you've always needed more sleep than any of us, Miss Ten-Is-Early." Vi said, trying to make a joke.

"I can't," I said. "The nightmare is back. The past three nights. I don't know how to get rid of it."

Vi began singing softly again. I gulped and joined in.

There were footsteps on the stairs from the cellar.

"Girls," said Desmonda, looking just as formidable in a pink dressing gown and curlers as she did in her usual grey attire. "You'll wake the whole house up."

"Sorry Desmonda," said Vi. "Fern's just a bit upset."

Desmonda saw my face. She may be strict, but she isn't unkind. Her face softened.

"Just keep it down then girls. And you've got an early start tomorrow."

She went back down, but the moment had passed. I wiped my face.

"Maybe we should try Holly again before we turn in." I said.

James-

Ha had been the last to leave the table, just as he knew he would be. He walked back to his room, his coat slung over his arm and his hat low over his head. He put his hand on the handle of the bedroom door but stopped when he could hear singing from down the hall. Whoever was singing had a beautiful voice, he couldnt help but follow the sound. There was a light coming from a door at the end of the hall where the singing could be heard. He recognized the tune, but he couldn't quite remember from where or what exactly the words were. He heard footsteps behind him and turned to see Desmonda.

"Oh, Max, did they wake you?" She put her hand on her hip and got a rather sour expression on her face.

He cleared his throught before answering,
"No, I was just on my way to my room." He quickly walked back down the hall to his room and closed the door behind him sharply.

This was the first time he had gotten a good look at the room. It was small but nice. He grabbed his bag from where he had left it on the floor, not bothering to unpack. He grabbed his cell phone from one of the outside pockets and plugged it into his charger. The phone vibrated and turned on.

He had two missed calls and a voicemail. It was all from one of his brothers, Glenn. Glenn had always been the hardest on him, being the oldest, and always teased him the most of his other brothers. Glenn was an overachiever who didn't understand anything about James, not did his other brothers for the most part. He was so separate from his family, and not just now, but growing up through his entire childhood. He had always felt like an outsider and was almost relived when he was disowned. If he hadn't gotten mixed up in so much trouble and had to start living on the run, he might actually be happy, for once.

((((Whats going on????))))

Hey if it is alright I am going to have James a.k.a Max fall in love with Fern..she doesn't have to love him back..but he needs a reason to stay at Desmonda's.

[Aidan]

Bothering her? I'd spent all those years… bothering her?

That didn't seem right. But apparently that was a common theme.

Shaking my head, I slowly made my way back to the house. I picked at my wristband, too absorbed in my own thoughts to hear a car coming down the street behind me. I didn't notice it slow, stop, or even know it existed until the passenger said something to me. My head shot up, and I looked toward the car. It was Dad, and he had his head was sticking out of the window.

"What?" I asked.

Dad shook his head. "You haven't left yet?"

"Left…?" I repeated, tilting my head. Oh, right. "Grocery shopping, yeah."

Dad gave me a look, then shook his head again. "Yeah. Grocery shopping."

"You want me to--?"

"No. Come inside with me."

"K…"

(I'll finish this bit up later. Just thought I'd throw something down.)

RoryLegend wrote:Hey if it is alright I am going to have James a.k.a Max fall in love with Fern..she doesn't have to love him back..but he needs a reason to stay at Desmonda's.

*Sure thing .*

Fern-

"Hey Vi, I'm going to try Holly one more time and if she doesn't call back we'll call it a night, okay?" I said.

"Yeah," she answered following me to the phone.

I punched in the number again. The engaged tone came on.

"Hey Holls, you're probably talking to Briar or something, anyway, it's us-"

"Hi," said Violet.

"We're just checking up on you. Everything's fine here and just want to make sure you're doing okay."

"Call us when you get this," Violet said. "Take care,"

"Bye," I finished and put the phone down.

Violet rubbed her eyes. "Come on, we should probably turn in."

I nodded and took my shoes off as we began up the stairs to our pokey little shared attic room.

"You going to sleep okay?" she asked me.

"As well as can be hoped," I said. "But don't worry about me, you have enough on your mind at the moment."

"Including cleaning out the best room tomorrow!"

I groaned. "Save me!" I said, and we giggled as we darted up the stairs.

Sorry for my absence. There was a problem with my pc.TN, Briar has just told Willow that she's sneaking out to post her letters, and asked if she can try calling Holly while she's gone. Fern and Violet have also been trying to call Holly but they didn't get an answer, and left a message.

Briar

I crept from my bed as quietly as I could, and pulled my hat and coat from the case which my father ahd packed for me. He must have realised that I'd be resisting the change too much to pack for myself. Besides, it's not like there'd even been half an hour between his telling us of the new arrangement, and Aunt Rosemary's arrival. The coat was one from three years ago (I'd always been a hoarder) and it was too tight across the chest now, but it was the only coat he'd packed for me, and so I had to make do. I stuffed the letters into pocket, and stuffed my red hair down the back of my coat before squashing my hat down over it.

Scowling at the inconvinience to which I was put, I crept down the stairs, freezing as the sixth step from the bottom creaked. After a moment had passed, I glanced up at the landing. Aunt Rosemary's door remained shut. I exhaled, and stole silently as I could towards the front door. I pulled the handle and frowned. I should have realized that the door would be locked. The nausea was returning. I wondered why, at my age, I should be afraid to leave a house around midnight. I cast around my mind for a plan. The key was most likely in her handbag, which would be in her room...but where would she keep the spare?

Hvaing no other ideas, I checked the kitchen press, and withdrew a biscuit tin, then peered inside, hoping for a bunch of keys. That was how my father stored all the neighbour's spares, and I hoped that that sort of thing ran in the family. Even when I saw the half packet of plain biscuits and the fresh pack of "custard creams", I was unwilling to admit defeat. I pushed them aside, hoping the keys lay beneath them, but all this exposed was the scratched gold base of the tin.

I sat down crossly at the kitchen table, and pulled a couple of dead leaves from the plant which stood at the centre of the table in a feeble attempt to vent my frustration. I was more forceful than I intended to be, and the pot toppled over on its side. Cursing under my breath, I righted the pot, and began scooping up the soil and tossing it back in.And that's when I found the dirty little key, concealed inside the soil. Sighing in relief, I bolted towards the door, turned the key in the lock, and stowed it safely in my pocket with the letters, shutting the door behind me as softly as I could.

The cold night air stung my checks. I clenched my fists and plunged one hand into my pocket, then, gritting my teeth, pressed forward. I was lucky that the post box was only fifteen minutes away.

I sent my letters like a plea into the dark abyss of the letterbox, and felt the hollow thunk which sounded as they hit the bottom, echo in my gut. I walked more slowly back to the house, the mild thrill of having a mission having passed.

I returned to the house, put the key back where I'd found it in case Aunt Rosemary noticed it was missing, and returned upstairs, hardly daring to believe that I had been successful.

[Holly]

Holly lay on her back, eyes closed, drapes closed tight. It was already nine at night, and her homework still lay on her desk, untouched. She sighed and turned onto her side, squirming uncomfortably on her bed.

She couldn’t keep her mind off Aiden. Anytime she closed her eyes, she saw his face when she told him that he was bothering her sister. Anytime she saw his face, she remembered what she had become: a liar.

On the night table beside her, a shrill ringing came from her phone. She sighed and ignored it for a minute. She wished they would just hang up; she didn’t need to deal with someone else trying to offer sympathy. Who would do so at nine pm, anyway?

After five rings she finally gave in. She reached over to grab the phone off the hook, clicked the talk button, and brought it up to her ear.

“Hello?”

Sorry it’s taken me so long, and that this is so short! I was at work all day, and now I’m tired. Also, I couldn't tell if someone was going to try to call her again (again, very tired.) If not, just let me know, and I'll make it so she picked it up right after they hung up.

James-

He had to save her! Despite the surrounding fire that was stealing the air from him with every passing second he had to save her. Everyone knows you are not supposed to go back into a burning building, but she was in there. His finace the girl he loved was trapped somewhere. She was screaming his name now. It was so dark, he couldn't find her. Damn it, why couldn't he find her! Something grabbed him.
"We have to go!" The big yellow masked thing said.
"Save her! I have to save her!" James protested kicking and trying to free himself just as he blacked out.

James sat up straight in bed, still in the clothes he wore yesterday and in a cold sweat. For three months after the fire, he lay in a hospital bed repeating the same five words over and over again, only partially aware of his surroundings. His mind was still stuck in the fire, he kept saying it: I have to save her.
He shook the thoughts of the past from his head, besides, he wasn't James anymore, he was Max. After a shower and a change of clothes James left his room, wanting to put his mind on anything else.

Fern-

And then, I was running again. Running fast, as fast as I could, but it wasn't fast enough. Behind me, it, whatever it was, was catching up. I didn't dare turn to see it, but it was there, I could hear it. It was coming, it was closer than it had been any other night-

I sat up in bed and my first instinct was to look round for my mother, with the candle, her soft singing voice waiting for whenever the thing came too near.

And then she wasn't there.

Violet was sleeping soundly on the other side of the box room. I suddenly realised I was shivering, my breathing was heavy.

I took my dressing gown off its hook on the back of the door and went down to the kitchen. My hands were shaking, but I poured myself a glass of water and sat down at the table.

The thing in my nightmares had never been that close when I was little. My mother had always stopped it just before I could feel its hot, rancid breath on the back of my neck.

I took a long shuddering breath and gulped down some water.

I would be exhausted tomorrow, but I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep if I tried.