Rebekah

It's a Friday afternoon, yet the destination she is going to isn't school. Every week they choose a random day to play hooky, and this seemed the most fitting with winter break around the corner. And so she enters the skate park-their usual hangout spot-and her friends are already waiting by the ramps.

"Took this fat b*tch long enough," Naomi is the first to comment, pausing from the wobbly movements she calls rollerblading. "Try actually moving your feet; we've been waiting here for half an hour."

"Lay off. I move at my own pace, and I slept in today."

Yes, her so-called friends are quite replaceable, but it's better than being a miserable loner in and out of school.

"Since you're here," Craig pulls out a single cigarette along with a lighter, "we can finally indulge in this cigarette I got off one of the seniors. See, it helps to have connections with the older teens like me."

"I stand in awe of your popularity. Now just light the d*mn thing," Rebekah orders, holding her hand out to get a puff after himself. It doesn't exactly taste good, and she isn't addicted though it's her third time doing this. The nicotine smells, plus she nearly coughed up a lung on her first inhale. Yet, I always smoke it anyway. It's simply out of habit; the short experience has her current problems engulfed by the smoke clouds.

"Ugh, there's nothing to do out here," the shorter girl groans, taking her skate off to massage her toes. "We only picked such a lame spot to chill in hopes we'd run into the twins, and now they're in the hospital."

Craig stomps the cigarette out, shooting her a lazy smirk. "Well, it's pretty entertaining to watch you nearly break your neck in the skates you can barely fit. Who attempts skating with all of this snow anyway?"

She shoots him a sharp glare, snatches the other skate off, and reclaims her shoes in her bag. It is true they no longer have any business there with the sisters' recent suicide attempt. Though on that topic, her mind drifts to the odd dreams that began once they were admitted. And that guy was babbling on yesterday about these nightmares sticking around...

"They were such easy targets. Remember the time I threw their crap into the pool after gym class?"

A chuckle seems to escape the boy's lips at the mere thought of it.

"All of the ear-piercing sobbing and snotting had Kaylen look twice as hideous as usual. Then again, what's to expect from the chick who bled in front of the swim team during tryouts last year?"

"Not a bad choice, but for me, karma was sweet when tripping Kaleigh to fall into that mud puddle. She goes strutting around the neighborhood, trying to show off the cute new outfit she made by hand. The girl is delusional and has no skills, so it was nice to humble her a bit."

They both share a good hearty laugh at this, though the blonde remains quiet with her eyes locked on the cloudy skies. No way screams bonding than to reminisce over making their lives a living h*ll. Still, she might lack any amusement but won't hypocritically put herself above their level. We all have a common hatred for the twins, and that hasn't vanished just because they tried to take the easy way out.

"Hey, do you still have that necklace of Kaylen's you stole, or did you pawn it off to get easy cash for food or something?" Naomi asks, and the two share another muffled snicker at the jab at her size.

"You two better watch your jokes about my weight before you feel the strength of it to your face. And it was personalized trash nobody would want; I threw it in the garbage a long time ago."

With that, the blonde takes a stand from against her leaned position, and they both exchange glances before following behind her.

"Let's play ding-dong ditch for some entertainment instead of freezing our a*sses off sitting around here."

The trio does a few rounds of the game at random houses around the neighborhood. It's always humorous to see the different reactions whether it's confusion or pure rage. However, when they reach the large house on the corner, the previous laughter is abruptly cut off.

It looks abandoned. The house's blue paint is old and scraped, or perhaps, it was a crappy job to begin with. Not a chair is on the porch or a vehicle in the driveway, and the owner must lack any company swinging by to visit. Similarly, the elderly man hardly ever comes out.

"Mr. Gonzalez's dump, huh?" The boy rests his gloved hands behind his head with a frown. "It's not gonna be any fun playing this at his place. He doesn't open the door for anyone."

Naomi fiddles with her painted nails before blowing on them for warmth. "Like he has anyone to open up for. That cranky old geezer doesn't have any friends, and his family must not want to be bothered."

"Then why don't we make a challenge out of it?"

Rebekah's suggestion grabs their attention, and she picks up a nice-sized rock off the ground.

"We see just how much it takes to provoke him and get an answer. I heard that he doesn't have the most patience."

This little gamble pulls the two back in the game, each of them grabbing rocks of their own to throw. On her countdown, these are aimed at his house hitting the front door, the wooden planks-and for double the score, the windows. It goes on for a while making her question if he's home, but sure enough, the sound of a cracked glass stirs a reaction.

"You darn brats! Get off my property before I call the police!"

His muffled voice barks through the closed window, and he doesn't even bother to yell from the door. Naomi and Craig are gone in an instant; the two race down the street with a high-five over their victory. Nonetheless, her feet don't move an inch as their eyes lock.

I knew it was him I saw. This is the guy she spotted hiding underneath his porch with one of those monsters trying to reach him. So even in his dreams, he's still glued to this house. But if the nightmares are somehow connected to the twins, why would this old man be a part of it?

"Rebekah, what's the holdup?!"

She's brought back to reality once more with Craig calling her. The blonde only glances away for a second-but just that quickly-he's gone. Only the curtain lightly moves to have proof of his presence, and the girl puts his involvement out of her mind as she hurries after them.

...

It's well past sundown by the time she steps foot through the door. Not shocked that her dad lies sprawled out on the couch in front of the dimly lit television. The near-empty beer bottle in his hand is probably the single thing he has had for dinner.

"I'm home."

"Oh. How was school?"

Is he being serious right now? She examines her outfit, dressed in a hoodie with jeans that most definitely aren't proper uniform. I usually switch to clothes kept in my backpack before walking in. Good thing to know she doesn't need to go through that hassle anymore.

"Where's Mom?"

"She headed to bed early."

Of course, she would turn in for the night before ensuring her teenage daughter made it back home safely. This is after already getting up late, but this is typical behavior of them. They live off of the life insurance money from Grandpa's passing while eroding away in this self-made prison cell.

"I'm gonna find something to eat; I'm starving."

He merely nods, taking another sip out of his bottle, and she storms for the kitchen. The refrigerator is nearly empty with an extreme lack of groceries in the middle of the month. Unfortunately, it's too late to order pizza, so she'll just have to settle for some snacks until breakfast.

Rebekah fetches a few chip bags and cookies that produce a stomach growl, alongside a soda to wash it all down. The flashing red light on the landline receiver fuels her annoyance. Since they aren't ever gonna bother to clear it, I might as well do it. She presses play on the first voicemail message, recognizing the tone of authority.

I'm calling you again in regards to your daughter, Rebekah Collins' recent absences with skipping class. This has been happening routinely once every week, and she even sneaks out during detention. Your daughter might be a good friend of our dear counselor's younger brother, but this doesn't excuse them to do whatever they please. If her attendance isn't fixed after winter break, then you can find a public school to place her in. Getting accepted to Striving Dreams Academy is a privilege, and it's about time she learns this. Be sure to remember that your tuition fee is non-refundable. I hope to hear from you soon, or preferably, talk in person.

The voice message ends, and she stops it before the next one can even begin. That headmaster doesn't know when to quit. It's drama as with the twins all over again, but at least they had the upper hand then. They got off the hook for most things with Craig's mother just stressing for them to 'get along better.' But it seems the old hag is more serious about class attendance... Not having this ruin her appetite, she reclaims her dinner, heading upstairs to consume this concern through snacking.

In her messy bed, the blonde sits with a photo album book she fetches from her closet. She easily flips to the middle where she always begins, skipping past the first half. It's only filled with photographs of the original little girl she was to become a carbon copy of when brought under this roof. Her eyes scan the many photos while crunching on chips from when she was first adopted. Countless ones follow that mark her first day at public school and celebrating family holidays. I highly doubt we'll do anything for Christmas this year.

The miniature version of herself looks like a stranger simply sharing the same face. Her round figure is now twice as heavy, which isn't just because of puberty. Short blonde hair reaches her shoulders-the length she prefers it-before being forced to grow it. The biggest contrast is that she's smiling with them from ear to ear. A genuine grin that has vanished for months, and the root of it was her discontentment.

What if I had just kept up the role with no complaints? Maybe then, they'd still be a tight-knit family playing pretend. Instead, a deep emptiness and melancholy fill the walls of this structure that is no longer her home. It's deprived of the laughter and joy she experienced daily before the cherry blossoms withered away. I always despised springtime. Originally, it was because of the constant rain, but now the pain lies much deeper than that. A season of new beginnings brought a terrible storm that shows no signs of ever passing.

"What difference does it make?" she grumbles to herself, chugging the rest of her soda. Her foster parents' relationship correlates to a broken vase; it's beyond repair, so the sole option is to buy a replacement. Even if it won't fully heal the void left in her lonely heart, superficial bonds with no substance are taken over isolation.

Rebekah tosses her trash away, glancing at the clock to see it's after one A.M. The nightmare's gonna trigger soon. She found out it has a routine hour by chance when up playing video games late the night before last. Uncontrollable fatigue consumed her, and she wasn't even tired with her constant all-nighters. The mental exhaustion of dwelling on the past seems to balance out her present fear. She dozes off with the television still on as old memories haunt her dreams until the horrors come at three.

...

Her blue eyes snap open. The girl slowly sits up on the floor, yet it doesn't have the same texture as usual. This isn't a nightmare, or is it? If so, then why is she in a grocery store and not outside in the cold? Apparently, she has some company with the exact male who had approached her sitting inches from her.

"So it's your turn now. I figured it was due to another special dream for you or Luis..."

"W-What the heck are you talking about? Why am I here? The nightmares always take place in the neighborhood."

Though she did cross paths with Luis, she and the old man hadn't ever spoken. Until this moment, she never held a conscious conversation inside of her head. This guy who she believes his name is Dionte was pestering her alongside that brat to join their pointless group. Despite that being nothing more than useless emotional support, he probably knows more about this situation than she.

"For someone so fast to blow me off when I merely wanted to talk, you sure have a lot of questions now."

This receives a click of the tongue at his nonchalant answer, and maybe he calls himself giving her a taste of her own medicine.

"Look, if you won't tell me anything, I'll find the answers by myself."

"Wait." He grabs her arm, tight enough to have her remain put but not too much strength to hurt her. "I know this is a lot to digest, but you need to take a breather. These dreams are unique from our typical nightmares. It reveals your involvement with the twins-"

He's cut off when a version of herself sneaks right on past them. The outfit, setting, and his explanation all seem to point in a single direction. I know what this dream is about. If it's connecting her to the twins, then this is when they first met. Not a day she's too thrilled to relive, especially with the one audience member beside her. Though this is better than the alternative with one of those monsters chasing me...

It was a rainy spring evening as Rebekah made her way to the snack aisle. The few people left were finishing the last of their shopping before closing. It helped to have less watchful gazes, and she tried to act casual while approaching the cake table. The search to find the one she desired was done in two seconds flat. Its sweet scent caught her nose from the container; her eyes quickly spotted the layered white icing and rainbow sprinkles.

Her head snapped back and forth before an old slip of the hand knocked the cake purposely into her bag. She held it close with her sights glued to the automatic doors. As long as she could get outside, her chances of pulling this off were high.

"Can I ask where you're going with that?"

She froze. The blonde slowly turned around to be caught by a middle-aged woman she thought had been preoccupied. Two teenage girls that were her splitting image stood on either side of her.

"Surprised? As a parent, you must learn to always be attentive; I practically have eyes on the back of my head now," she joked, though her emerald eyes dropped down to her clutched bag. "Do you have poor eyesight like my husband, or were you avoiding the cashier for the exit on purpose?"

Rebekah watches the scene unfold, her hairs standing on end as it has been in that moment. Though the one who looks far more surprised than her old self is the man standing beside her.

"N-No, that can't be her. I'm mistaking her for someone else..."

What is he mumbling about? His green eyes are locked on the twins' mother. Does she look familiar to someone he knows? Regardless, this nightmare isn't one he's a part of and she returns her attention to the woman waiting for an answer.

It was a long pause. There wasn't a way to talk out of this, and the option to run at such a distance would've been a failed attempt. So, the blonde opened up her bag in defeat, revealing the small container.

"W-What are you trying to do, a citizen's arrest for a stupid cake?"

"I'm going to go on a whim and say this isn't a normal act for you, is it?"

The blonde only shrugged her shoulders at her accurate deduction. Truth be told, she hadn't stolen anything before, besides a little pencil off the school floor. The beats of sweat that damped her bangs probably gave away the fact criminal activity wasn't her forte.

"Let's say you were being honest at the time; that would all change in a couple of months."

Kayleigh's snarky voice echoes inside of her ears, yet the one in the dream's lips doesn't move one bit. This doesn't make any sense, but she can't ask Dionte prior to their mother kneeling in front of her.

"I figured as much," she responded with a light hair ruffle that felt so tender. "How about I buy this for you? Then you don't have to go home empty-handed, nor will you be punished for theft."

The woman could've simply ratted her out and told the store clerks of her stolen sweets to be their problem. An excuse of starvation just wouldn't work in her case, enough weight to hibernate if winter hadn't passed already.

"Come on. We were just about to hop in line and purchase our groceries."

Rebekah hesitantly followed behind the three, and the checkout went through rather smoothly. Although, the cake stayed in a single bag among the stranger's food until they left the store. The sprinkles of water on her shoulder from the spring shower made her wonder if she'd ever indulge in the ones that covered her harbored snack.

"Now, I'll hand it over if you tell me the real reason why you were trying to steal it?"

She hadn't known the dessert was conditional, depending on the revelation of her home situation. A direct response to her prying was a small price to pay compared to the loss of her mouthwatering cake.

"I...only wanted this because it's my birthday, but I don't have any cash. It had already passed, so my parents forgot about it. Or maybe, they never remembered it to begin with."

"Oh? And how old will you be turning today?"

It wasn't the second question she anticipated after her cryptic answer. Perhaps the woman knew that was the most she was willing to share on the matter.

"Fifteen."

"That's two years above my daughters here. By the next, you could go for your driver's license."

The woman passed over the cake from her shopping cart, and the emotions that swept past made her drop her head. It would be humiliating to get teary-eyed over a dumb treat, but the warmth during their simple exchange was something she had lacked the past month.

"In Jesus' name, I give you this cake as a good deed today. Just be sure to pass it on when you get the chance, and don't forget that you're never too old for a birthday wish."

"Okay, t-thank you."

"Oh, and one last thing." The woman gave her a fragile smile that reflected her own. "Be sure to cut them a little slack, even if you don't feel they deserve it. Lord knows I haven't been the best parent, but my daughters have still found it in their hearts to forgive me."

With that, she pressed on for the vehicle, though her twin daughters stayed in place. The ginger leaned forward first and examined her only gift through the plastic bag.

"Funfetti birthday cake is a wise pick. Ours isn't until the summer break to get one to split. You're lucky to have yours all to yourself today instead of fighting with your sibling for the last slice."

She was clearly trying to joke and lighten her damper mood that matched the gloomy skies. The curly-haired sister glued behind her took a step forward with a shy smile.

"Um, well, parents can sometimes have a lot on their plates, but I hope you have a happy birthday."

"Neither of us knew then that our mother helped out the ringleader who would torment us from the start of the school year."

Kaylen's voice sounds strained with a tingle of resentment, but that feeling is mutual. Her cold blue eyes reflect her past self while watching them reunite with their dad in the parking lot. Once they all pack their groceries into the vehicle, the family of four takes off, and this toothache-inducing sight equally pisses her off. The sugar that was supposed to be sweet had burned envy on her tongue that remained long after the cake was gone.

A/N This is the first part of Rebekah's arc. I'll be updating soon, and expect more drama next chapter.