Irish Witch

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Rosalie P.O.V
My throat was starting to feel much better, my voice was nearly all the way back to normal, and my bruises had turned yellow, signaling that they were healing up quite nicely. I did have a bit of a snarky attitude though, I was forced to stay cooped up in the house because if the press saw me beat up their would be hell to pay. My kitten kept me company, I ended up naming him Gus, because he was a moody little fella, and my mother used to call me a grumpy gus whenever I was being moody, so I figured it fit. Gus was also a trouble maker, he had already pissed off all of the cats more than once in the time span of a month. He was just playful, but he went too far, he once pounced in Delilah during her nap, she was not happy and he received a swat from her, but that didn't stop him from continuing to be a child. It was quite amusing really. One chilly morning I was laying on my bed, still in my night clothes, not wanting to face another boring day of being inside, listening to Freddie talk to Phoebe about Live Aid. It seemed to be such a big deal but I was so annoyed with it I didn't want him to take the gig. I heard the door open downstairs and heard familiar voices, I smiled and quickly picked up Gus off my chest and placed him on the bed earning an unhappy growl. I ran down the stairs to see my four Uncles. "Rosie girl!" Roger said gulping me in a hug, I saw Brian through his arms, he had a shocked look on his face, he tried to hide it but failed. This was the first time they were seeing me since the incident. After Roger let go of me I gave Brian a hug and he squeezed me tight, and lastly I gave John a hug, he chuckled and kissed the top of my head. Freddie grabbed my hand and pulled me to him, he kissed my forehead, "what are you all doing here?" I asked confused. "We're here to talk about live aid." Brian said and I rolled my eyes. "What's the big deal with it anyway, it's just a stupid concert for a stupid charity gig. You're not even getting any money out of it." I felt a firm, but soft smack on my mouth. "Enough of that," Freddie said sternly, "that's an awful thing of you to say, say something like that again and you will be eating soap for dinner." I folded my arms crossly but kept my mouth shut. Roger chuckled. "Come on now Rosie girl, don't be upset, I'll make it up to you ok?" I nodded giving him a small smile, I knew he would. He always did. "How's Aunt Dominique?" I asked quietly and Rogers eyes saddened. "Very well," he said shortly, but I could tell he was lying. "Shall we get to work?" John asked clapping Roger on the back, "yes let's," Brian replied and the three of them went in the other room. Freddie turned to face me, "don't mention your Aunt Betee, she's very sick, and it hurts Uncle Rog to talk about it," I nodded. Freddie smiled, "that's my good girl," he gave me a kiss, "go on and entertain yourself," he said patting my back and pushing me slightly in the direction of the stairs. I gave him a look, "can't I stay with you?"
"No," he said without missing a beat, "this is work, you can't be there you know this, I'll see you soon, and remember Rosalie, Jim is in charge." I huffed, I didn't want Jim, I wanted Freddie. I stomped upstairs, and was heading to my bedroom before I heard the Irish accent of Jim. "Rosalie come here for a minute," I stopped and closed my eyes in annoyance, before turning around and stalking over to Jim. "What." I said snarkily and his eyebrows immediately shot up. "Watch the attitude little lady, go get dressed and come downstairs I want to do something with you." I rolled my eyes and went into my room taking my time to change into day clothes. After about 20 minutes I went downstairs and saw Jim with a grim expression on his face. "I thought we could bake cookies?" He said leading me to the kitchen. "I'm not 5." I said under my breath. I was in a foul mood, my stomach hurt and I had a feeling my lady days we're coming soon. Or as Freddie called it, Aunt Flo. We went into the kitchen and Jim got out the ingredients, he was looking through as I stared at the floor arms crossed. Jim noticed and sighed putting down the flour. "What's wrong?" He asked looking slightly annoyed. I shrugged, "I don't speak shrug." He stated and I threw him a nasty glare. Jim rubbed his face with his hand. "Alright then," the door bell rang, "I'll get it," I said but Jim stopped me. "No you won't, your going to stay in here and think about your attitude and how you can adjust it." I gave him an incredulous look. "No it's my bloody house I'll answer the door if I want to, you Irish Witch." That seemed to take him off guard, "go to your room Rosalie," he said quietly. "You're not my father," I spat. I couldn't read Jim's expression but I thought for a minute that he was going to slap me. "No I'm not but I can get your father, is that what you would like?" I bit my tongue and stormed off to my room cursing all the way. I slammed my door as loud as I could and plopped on my bed scaring the shit out of Gus.

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