Disney Princess Generations: Mystery Mother

Chapter 3

What was he to do? Octavian stood by the house, small and insignificant. Laughter and joy surrounded him, but without his sister, Octavian didn't know how to find these things. It wasn't like he was completely dependent on her for fun, it's just that that's all he's ever known.
With a sigh, Octavian slid his back down the brick wall. He picked at the grass. He closed his eyes, resting his head back, feeling the slight breeze on his cheeks. His hair fell back over his shoulders when he sat up. He didn't care to keep it clean or orderly. It was too black to show much dirt and too curly to tame, so he saw no point.
Octavian reached into his jackets interior pocket. That's where he kept his journal and ink pen. It was his daily entries into this journal that had helped his writing become so eloquent.
He didn't write in it for long today. Someone came up and snatched it away from him.
"Hey!" Octavian cried. He jumped up and reached to get his journal back.
"No, no, no," said the person who stole Octavian's journal. "We need to talk first."
Octavian finally stopped jumping for his journal and looked to see the face behind the voice. He wasn't happy. It was Matthew.
"What do you want?" Octavian backed up and crossed his arms.
"I want your sister," Matthew replied. He began flipping through Octavian's journal.
"That's too bad, because you are not getting her," Octavian assured him.
"Not over your dead body, right?" Matthew inquired.
"Correct," Said Octavian.
"That can be arranged," said Matthew. He snapped his fingers and two of his friends showed up. They were just as threatening as Matthew. "You know what to do boys."
The two goons slowly approached Octavian, making threatening hand gestures and giving nasty looks.
Octavian knew what they were going to do as well, but there was no way he stood a chance against all three of these guys. He tried to run, but one of the boys, the bigger one, grabbed Octavian by the collar and slammed him against the wall.
"Where you going, pretty boy?" The guy asked.
"We aren't done yet."
Matthew walked closer and put a hand on the bigger guys shoulder. "Enough, enough," he said. "Put poor Octavian down. I haven't even talked to him yet."
The boys did as told and backed up. Octavian fell to the ground but hopped up quickly, not going to be caught on his face in front of someone as despicable as Matthew.
Matthew held up Octavian's journal and examined it. "I expect this means a lot to you?" He asked Octavian.
Octavian acted nonchalant. "Not really. I just use it to pass time, that's all."
Matthew chuckled. "I read it Octavian. I'm not stupid."
Octavian shifted uncomfortably.
"Look, Octavian, pal, I don't want to hurt you. I just want to take your sister off your hands."
Octavian wasn't going to let that happen. "And why do you want my sister so badly?"
"Because she doesn't want me," Matthew says. "And I've always admired a girl with an attitude. I love a good challenge."
Octavian was disgusted. Matthew didn't even like Cotton. He only liked the thought of Cotton. That was gross.
"I love a good challenge, too," Octavian said.
Matthew looked confused. Until Octavian quickly yanked the journal out of Matthew's hands and made a dash for the forest. Then Matthew looked furious.
Matthew and his two friends ran after Octavian.
••••••••••
Cotton and Charles had been walking peacefully for quite some time, the only sounds  being the rustle of leaves and singing of birds.
Cotton was the first one to disturb the silence.
"Why, after an entire lifetime spent in orphanages, would you decide to come back and run one?"
Charles glanced at her, a faint smile on his face.  "There's actually a very personal reason for doing it. I don't know if you'd want to hear it."
"Of course I want to hear it," Cotton says. "You tell me, then I'll tell you something personal."
"Okay," Charles started. "In my first orphanage, the woman there was the nicest lady I'd ever met. If I could choose my mother, she would be someone like Madame Aleyna. In Mm. Aleyna's house, there were only 4 of us. That meant she could get close to each of us. We could individually trust her. She cooked brilliantly. Cleaned up after us. We had no worries. But I was only with her until I was 8. She died."
Charles stopped himself, a bit overwhelmed by emotion. Cotton could tell he had really loved this woman. Maybe Cotton should not have made him share.
Then he continued, "I was placed in a different home. A different city. A different country. And it. Was. Awful. This time it was a man. His name I can't remember. I don't want to remember. He abused me, all of my friends, any kid he encountered. Not just physical abuse. He emotionally abused us. Called us names, told us we were worthless. It really messes a kid up to hear that kind of stuff. Experiencing all of these horrors in an orphanage made me want to change them. So, I decided to come run one. And I'll be a fantastic orphanage manager."
Cotton remained quiet for some time. "Yes. You will be."
The two of them finally arrived at the meadow. They sat down in the middle amongst bunches of wildflowers. Cotton began to pick them.
Charles watched her.
Charles finally asked, "What about you? What's your personal thing?"
Cotton stopped picking the flowers. "There's a lot of personal things. I don't know where to begin."
"What do you think about the most?" Charles asked.
Cotton glanced at him. She hated to admit it, but she said, "My mother."
"What about her do you think of so often?"
"Just her. I don't know anything about her. She left my brother and I in a closet, with only our blankets and a mysterious letter...." Cotton trailed off, again thinking about that letter that was so short but meant so much to her brother.
Charles tilted his head. "What does the letter say?"
"Nothing major," Cotton responded. "Just that she loves us and is proud of us. The thing is, it's not quite right. There are words misused, misspelled. It seems like she meant for there to be a deeper meaning, you know?"
"Like a code? A secret message?" Charles asked. "You think she's still out there?"
"No," Cotton told him. "I know she's not out there. But maybe there is something out there that she wanted us to have."
Charles sat up suddenly. "I could help you."
"What?" Cotton asked, startled.
"I'm really good at cracking codes. Madame Aleyna would hide secrets all throughout the house and we'd search for the hidden meanings."
"You would do that?" Cotton was excited. "You would help us?"
"Yes!"
Cotton threw her arms around Charles.
Realizing that Charles was still a stranger, she let go and pushed away.
"Thank you," she said. "But there may be no code to crack..."
"That would be fine. I would enjoy the experience," Charles assured her.
Cotton smiled.
••••••••••
After what felt like a long time of talking and laughing, Charles and Cotton began walking back to the house. The sun was setting, which meant it was almost dinner.
Only a few feet into the forest, Cotton heard a rustling from above her. It sounded like there was something there. She looked up.
"Octavian?"
Octavian was sitting up high in the tree, alone. "Hello, Cotton," he said casually. "Hello, Charles. How was your walk?"
Cotton replied, "Uh.. it was fine. I'm wondering, though, how yours was. Most importantly, how you found yourself stuck up a tree."
"I'm not stuck!" He cried indignantly. "I just have been relaxing here for a long time and my body is too stiff to move."
"Sure," Cotton said.
Octavian, to show he was right, began climbing down. He jumped onto the ground and brushed himself off.
"Why were you in the tree," Charles asked Octavian.
"The guy, Matthew, chased me up it," Octavian said sheepishly.
Cotton wasn't happy. "That guy has got to learn when to stop! He's going too far. What is it that makes him do this stuff?!?"
Octavian mumbled under his breath, "It's the challenge."
"What?" Cotton hadn't heard him.
"Nothing," Octavian said. "Let's head back. It's getting late."
"Okay."
The three of them walked on.
"Oh Octavian!" Cotton proclaimed. "Guess what? Charles is going to help us with the letter. He's very good with finding hidden messages!"
Octavian's mouth hung open. He looked offended. "You told him?"
"Yes. I did. Why?"
"That's our secret, personal lives."
Cotton sighed. "Yes. It was. But if you want to really find that hidden message, we are going to need help. And Charles may be the one we need."
Octavian was still skeptical.
"Take a chance, Tay."
Octavian looked at his sister. She appeared as if she knew what she was doing.
"Oh alright," Octavian said. "But you better not say anything rude about it or otherwise make us feel ridiculous, Charles."
Charles responded, "I would never."