The Dawsons

Chapter 3 - Discussions

Sicily, Calatabiano, Casa Palace; 1961

Tritan and Samantha's twin girls, Rose and Rosa, who were now eleven years old, sat on two tall, maroon chairs in the very large sun-room on the bottom floor of the palace, while Queen Alyssa taught them how to use a fan. "Now, girls, remember to wave slowly, like this," Alyssa instructed them, waving her hand with the fan in her palm. "Always keep your fan just above your nose," she continued softly.

"Yes, your highness," Rose and Rosa replied together with glum faces.

Alyssa gave them both a look of distress. "Just between us, you can call me Nonna," Alyssa told them with a grin.

Rose and Rosa gaped up at her with big, bright smiles on their faces. Alyssa tickled them, and they laughed loudly.

A pale, skinny little boy a year younger than the twins strolled into the room wearing a little white suit. He had bright blue eyes with shades of purple and short orange hair, red like a flame.

"Hi," the boy said. "Aw, are we learning how to wave fans. Can I join?" he cried out excitedly.

"Uh, Alexander, do not make me laugh." Alyssa chuckled, and Rose and Rosa giggled along with her, amused.

"Can we please go play now?" Alexander, the twin's younger brother, asked with a smile.

Alyssa looked down at him. "Of course," she said. "Have fun."

They all smiled ecstatic smiles.

"Thank you, Nonna," Rose and Rosa each said gratefully before leaving the room.

"Nonna?" Alexander inquired, sounding confused. He thought they weren't allowed to call Queen Alyssa Nonna.

"You can call me Nonna too, but it's just between us," Alyssa told him, chuckling.

"Oh thank you, Nonna," Alexander said. He hugged her as tightly as he could before gracefully walking towards Rose and Rosa, who were waiting patiently for him.

Alyssa grinned joyfully as she watched the three of them scurry off into the garden.

*****

Francesco and Teresa were sleeping in a small room on two hard, dirty, rickety old beds. Springs stuck out of the mattresses, and the sheet that covered them was old, dirty, and ripped. The room was so aged the pale paint peeled off the walls, and dirt and water leaked from the peeled ceiling. Francesco tossed in his sleep, but Teresa lay as still as a statue on her back with her head to the side.

Derrick was spread out over an old, green, ripped-up couch, which was pushed up against the far wall in the lounge room and faced towards the front door slightly to the right. He stirred in his sleep, and sweat crawled down his hairline.

"Dad!" he heard himself cry out. Horrified, he looked into his father's dying eyes. He saw a dark figure glaring at him with an evil smirk upon his face. The figure's eyes burned red and soulless. Derrick felt a ferocious anger building up inside him. "Run!" he heard his father yell, the throbbing pain clear on his face. Frozen, Derrick stared at his father. Then suddenly Domenico's eyes turned bloodshot and rolled back into his head, and Derrick heard his father scream in agony.

"No!" Derrick cried over and over again as the scene repeated itself. He watched as the light went out in his fathers eyes, before he exploded into ashes.

"No!" Derrick shrieked, and his heart throbbed. He shook uncontrollably as he looked straight into the eyes of his parents' killer. He saw a dark smile cross the face of the demon known as Zancho before he vanished into black ash.