Obscure Occurrences |C. BAREBONE|

☛ Two ☚

• November, 1925 •

Genevieve didn't run through the streets of New York. She walked slowly with a pain which sat heavily against her chest. Today was the day her Mother had sadly passed. Even after seven years, Genevieve could close her eyes and still feel the blistering heat emanating from the fire. It was a haunting memory that her father could never understand. He wasn't there waiting for Mother to kiss him good evening, to feel her embrace to only have it snatched from her grip in moments.

With the death of his beautiful wife, Victor could hardly comprehend his daughter escaping his life while she still held her youth. In days of his wife's death, Victor kept his daughter close. He spoiled her to keep her near and chained her to the house; which never held a soul despite them living inside.

For seven years. Two-thousand two-hundred and twenty-five days, Genevieve was tethered to her father in a way that strangled the personality he knew of from her body. Forcing her to adopt her own secrets of beauty and literature. How the stories took her mind flying through to such beautiful scenes. Charlotte Bronte, Charles Dickens, Jane Austen. Never could Genevieve put down David Copperfield, Jane Eyre or Pride and Prejudice. She adored the love and the world through their eyes. After all, Genevieve hadn't left the house alone in years.

That's why she wasn't running but walking. She wanted to remain inconspicuous but she also slowed her pace to witness her surroundings in full observation.

The smoke rose to the clear sky-scraper infested sky and the people passing by had such individual faces; Genevieve feared for a moment that she wouldn't see the slightly wrinkled features of her father's physical identity.

Yet, she couldn't care until Genevieve reached fourteenth street where a woman with a soft spoken voice ranted of her beliefs. And despite not being indulged in her cause, Genevieve still approached with a curl of a smile tickling her lips. Maybe it was the life that surrounded such a passionate woman but still, she couldn't pull her eyes from her until she began to see further and observe her symbol and eventually capture the name. New Salem Philanthropic Society. It sure was a mouthful but that wasn't what cast Genevieve into a frozen state.

No.

When her gaze finally wandered over Steen National Bank and toward the bottom right of the staircase, Genevieve had the breath forced from her body.

She was already expecting the arranged marriage provided by her Father. Therefore, Genevieve knew she loved romance due to never being able to obtain such an emotion. She knew she would only hurt once her heart started beating faster for another. But she couldn't control her mind let alone her soul.

Seeing him must've been by chance. It couldn't have been planned, she couldn't have approached such a strange group just to see him. However, it was too good to be a coincidence. Fate maybe.

Where she hadn't seen him seven years ago. Genevieve sure had witnessed the beauty exactly as he had against the fire and screams. Now, she captured his being against a rallying cry and the heat of passion. Against it all, Credence appeared so small, so closed off as he pointed his eyes toward his rough yet clean shoes. It was innate in him after years of abuse. But Genevieve didn't know the reason for his minimal beauty.

"What about you, dear girl?" The soft, feminine voice asked; ultimately pulling the girl of seven-teen from her thoughts.

"Pardon me?" She asked in reply, able to see those strange smirks from men around her.

"You have come here, pulled by a longing for truth... Have you not?".

"I suppose",

"Then you shall know-" the woman said directly until she focused her speech toward all, "- there is truth behind my words, that witchcraft lingers among our beautiful city of New York. It is threatened by evil. So I ask you now, girl. Do you believe in my truth".

Genevieve took a moment to answer before she flickered her eyes to the boy a few metres away. He was looking at her now. Finally, their similar orbs had entered into the darkness of each other. His existence, that look upon his gaze. It was like... Magic.

"Yes Ma'm...-" Genevieve sighed without looking away from Credence, "-I believe in your truth"