The Girl With Lost Memories - Parts 1 & 2 (An OUAT Fanfiction)

𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 3: 𝒜 𝐹𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝐼𝓃 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒲𝒾𝓃𝒹

Dread. Every time I go back. I hate this house. I hate the people inside it. Standing on the curb and staring at the brick prison fills me with anger. It's so deceiving. It seems quaint, yet the inside's musty and abusive. Nobody would know from passing by. They'd have to live under its roof to know. I know. I wish I didn't, but I do.

No one's in the tight living room, which is odd. I'm not often the first one here. Unless everyone else is in their rooms as quiet as a corpse.

I open the door to my room, and it sweeps my fallen jackets, making a little path for me. I drop my backpack on the floor and freeze before taking another step. From the messy state of the room, I can't tell if anything's off, but I sense there's been an unwelcome guest.

Or two.

Interlopers.

My eyes scan the room like lasers, trying to find something out of place.

My mattress is not aligned with the wall.

I stop short in the middle of the hall before I get to the living room. The door that leads to the loft opens, and Curt and Diane step off the stairs. They both stand in front of the door, not bothering to shut it. Curt has his arms folded, and Diane has something behind her back. I don't know what it is. Not exactly.

"Looking for this?" She holds up my pink songbook.

I'm not worried, but I hate that she went into my room and snooped around. "Where did you get that?" I say, knowing the answer.

"Under your mattress. You have some nerve hiding this from me."

And you have some nerve trespassing. "I'm a songwriter. I have to write them down somewhere."

"I don't approve of such a silly profession." Silly? Silly? She thinks writing is silly? Why am I so surprised? She thinks everything is silly.

I turn my hands into balls. "It's not silly."

"You will respect your mother," Curt growls.

"She is not my mother!"

He takes a stride, making me step back, but Diane stops him.

How dare he call her my mother? She never has and will never be my mother. But what will she do to me? I yelled at her. I talked back. She's going to murder me for sure.

"You're not my kid." That shouldn't hurt, but it does. Like needles in my veins instead of blood. "You are in so much trouble for what you did, you bitch. Did you think we wouldn't find out?"

Yes. Wait. This is about me getting suspended, right? I have no clue. No one knows about my suspension.

"I'm waiting," she says through her teeth. "Did you really think we wouldn't find out?"

"Did you really think I'd listen to all your insane rules?" Fuck. What have I done?

Diane stares at me with her thin eyes and marches into the living room, where she offers up my songbook to the fireplace's flames. I hold my breath, and my eyes sting, even though she fell for the trick.

I rush to my room, and Max opens the door.

"Are you okay? I saw everything."

"I'm fine," I snap, turning my back to him. But how did he see? Was he in the living room when it happened?

"But you love writing songs. Now, they're all burning."

"I said, 'I'm fine.'" I face him. "I'm just offended."