Black and White

Chapter One.

                Rain pattered softly on the roof, a common occurrence in Washington with Fall just around the corner.  My eyes were unfocused as I gazed out the sliding glass doors and into the impenetrable forest surrounding my small cabin.  I live alone...in the middle of the woods...the nearest person almost twenty minutes from me.  And that was by car.

                A knock sounded at the door, and I jumped in spite of myself, banging my head on the lamp overhanging my huge, paisley armchair.  My heart raced even as I told myself it was just Mrs. Jacobs.  Just the spry, white haired old woman who delivered my groceries every couple of weeks.  I unlocked the deadbolt with a soft click, and pulled open the door with a smile.

                "Hello, Mrs. Jacobs."  Her lined face crinkled as she smiled and closed her umbrella. "Please, come in."

                She stepped quickly through the door, her large yellow raincoat dripping water onto the tiled floor.  Slipping out of her galoshes, she walked briskly across the room and into the kitchen, dropping her bags on the counter with an audible thump.  She paused then to take off her coat and place it in my outstretched hand.

                "Beastly weather, eh, Miss Ellie?  The road was nearly flooded through in the low bits."  She eyed me speculatively, her clear green eyes watching as I placed her coat on one of the pegs jutting from the wall beside the front door.  "Would you mind nipping out for the rest?  There are but a few left, and I'd rather not set foot out in that ghastliness if it's avoidable."

                I nodded.  After putting on a pair of boots, I left Mrs. Jacobs to her task and set out for the car.  Her large SUV was parked a short distance down the drive, its dark color making it nearly invisible in the rainy shadows.  I sloshed my way toward it, taking care to step over the one loose stone in my front walk.  When I finally reached the rear of the car, I was drenched, my normally curly hair flapping around my face in wet strands.

                I swung the back door open and gave a short scream at the sight of a pair of luminous green eyes peeking over the last row of seats.  I clapped my hand over my mouth, and for a moment neither of us moved.  Then the tiny girl giggled, popping up farther over the seat with a shy smile.  I laughed.  It was little more than I deserved for making Mrs. Jacobs drive in this mess.  I looked again at the little girl, whose tightly bound braids swung dangerously near the bag full of veggies.  She was the first new person I had met in over four years, and still just a child.

                "Hello, there."  I waved awkwardly at her, and her eyes followed the movement.  "My name's Ellie.  What's yours?"

                "Izzy."  Her voice was high and soft, her expression turning slightly wary.  "My mum says I'm not supposed to talk to strangers."

                "Well, as we've both just said hello and introduced ourselves, I'd hardly call us strangers."

                Her eyes went wide as her mouth stretched into an impossibly large grin.  She looked vaguely like I'd imagine the Cheshire Cat, and for some reason, that unnerved me.  I fully expected her to vanish before my eyes, leaving her smile floating in the air.  I shuddered, and she sobered.

                "Would you like me to help you with those?  They look heavy."  She pointed at the bags of groceries.

                "I suppose."  I shifted to pick up most of the paper bags.  I could smell bananas, and my stomach growled appreciatively.  Izzy giggled again, and I watched as she scrambled clumsily over the seat and into the trunk, and then scooted toward me.  She jumped down, landing in a puddle and soaking the bottom half of my sweatpants, as well as spilling water into my boots.  She grinned and I handed her the bag containing only bread, as well as the enormous black umbrella.  I had to stoop as we made our way back to the house, but I didn't really mind.  Not even as my socks squished audibly.

                I opened the front door to let her through first, shedding my rain boots just inside the door.  I stripped my socks and sweats off as well, leaving just a pair of pajama shorts.  Izzy glanced at the unicorns decorating my shorts and burst into laughter.  Sheepishly-I really hadn't planned on anyone seeing these shorts, well, ever-I strode around her to the kitchen, ignoring her gales of laughter.

                There was a resounding crash, coupled with the tinkling of shattered glass.  Izzy stopped laughing, and we both whipped our gazes around to Mrs. Jacobs, who was standing in the middle of the kitchen, stock-still, holding tightly to a jar of diced fruit.  Her face was drained of all color, her lips thinned to a small slit.  She seemed to be vibrating very subtly, her eyes crossing from me to Izzy and back again, over and over.

                It was then that it hit me, and I stumbled backward, nearly tripping over the rug behind me.  A huge, crashing wave of fury and fear smacked against my mind, blinding in its intensity.  I choked, trying to shut it out, to remember that these weren't my feelings, they didn't belong to me, and they didn't belong inside my mind.  Forcibly, I beat back the rage and terror, slamming down the barriers of my mind as I did so.  Panting with the effort, I glanced back at Mrs. Jacobs.  Her expression remained the same, and I realized it had taken mere moments to accomplish a feat that would have escaped me before my time in this house.

                As I goggled, Izzy took a step toward Mrs. Jacobs, and as I looked at their similar features, I realized this must be Mrs. Jacobs' granddaughter. "Nana?  Are you okay?"

                The older woman flinched at this, gathering her shreds of composure.  "Go back to the car, dearest.  I'll be there shortly."

                "But-"

                "Now, Isabella."  Izzy's shoulders drooped and she stomped to the front door, slamming it as she left.  Mrs. Jacobs turned to me, her fury mounting.  I had steeled myself for shouting, for accusations.  If she had listened to even a sliver of a rumor about me, she had great reason to fear for her granddaughter.  But instead of shouting, she looked me straight in the eyes and whispered, "How dare you."

                I shuddered, feeling guilty under the heat of her glare, though I knew whatever she had heard was exceptionally untrue.  The only problem was, I understood.  I could see exactly how she felt, and I couldn't find anger toward her, only pity towards myself.  That is, until she continued.

                "How dare you," She repeated, louder this time, only slightly softer than a shout. "My granddaughter.  My granddaughter, you monster.  I've held my tongue all these long years, believing you were decent, unjustly punished.  My whole life I have respected the Mansfield family for its ability keep peace in our kind, and it is for that reason I chose to accept this job when no one else would."

                I held my mouth shut, afraid of the anger starting to boil inside of me.  She either didn't notice my struggle, or chose to ignore it, because she continued.

                "But they were so very right, weren't they, Eleanor?  You nearly killed that little boy, as surely as you murdered your parents."  At this, she flicked her gaze angrily at the glass shards littering the floor and they flew as one into the bin in the corner.  Any other time, I would have admired such a skill, but as it was, I could only fight to hold back the flames pulsing inside of me.  "I wash my hands of you, child.  And my God have mercy on your filthy, wretched soul."

                She left then, and I sprinted for the sliding glass doors, knowing I had mere moments before I burned my only home to the ground.  Dashing out into the storm, I skidded to a halt in the little open space I had, tears mixing with the rain on my face.  Only then did I let the despair consume me, burning in flames ten feet high.  I fell to my knees, weeping as one thought echoed in my mind.

I killed them.