Chapter Three- Each Terrible Nightmare
Brooke was wandering through the countless pieces of art in the museum. Her mother had 'wasted' her time to take Brooke to the public museum for her eleventh birthday.
As a young girl, Brooke was fascinated with art. Anything and everything came from art. She believed God made art for people like her. People who had too much imagination to hold on to. Art, like math and science, is a basic unit of life according to Brooke. People make millions off of their own empowering mind.
Brooke wanted to be one of those people.
Someone who has the ability to use old textbook pages to create a masterpiece like no other. Someone who sketch anything from a single piece of inspiration. It amazed Brooke how people are able to do that.
She knew she had the potential to be famous one day. To have her own work on museum walls just like The Starry Night or Mona Lisa. Brooke knew she obtained the ability to change the world based on her art.
When they returned, everything changed.
Brooke could see the distaste her mother - Angela - had for her father when they both took a quick look at their wedding photo placed above the fireplace mantle as they entered their humble home. Who wouldn't feel the same way if their husband left to marry a woman half his age the day before the mother had a daughter due the next day?
It only hurt Angela more knowing she lived with the exact replica of the man who left her. Brooke as basically a young female copy of her father, and she despised that too. Even if she never saw her father. Brooke gained the hatred from the stories told from her mother.
After everything the two did to help themselves live, they could never be truly happy again they forgave him for what he did.
When Brooke said she'd pass for the night, her mother stopped her and told her to take a seat.
Maybe she got me a gift, Brooke wondered, an excited squeal involuntarily left her lips.
Her mother returned after a few moments of Brooke waiting in a pool of utter excitement. Angela stood before Brooke with something behind her back. Brooke's mother stood with the happiest grin alive.
Will she finally accept me as a daughter? Brooke asked herself, hoping the answer was the one she has been waiting for ever since she found out her mother absolutely hated her. Actually, more towards who she looked like.
As always, Brooke was wrong. There in front of her was two signatures. One from her mother. The name placed so delicately on the paper. The other was from another woman by the name of Mrs. Delilah Evans. Her name also done in such a neat, orderly fashion.
"What is it mother?" Brooke asked.
"It's the best gift you'll ever have from me. Why, it is the gift of your freedom from me, your father, this whole town. You'll be given to a foster family that shares the same artistic talent you do. They'll make you happy." Angela spoke so quickly, so happily, it made Brooke's eyes start to tear.
"Do you even love me? Do you have any feelings towards me? Or is it all towards the man I look alike? I'm my own person, I'm not dad. Are you even aware that I take care of the house while you mope around in your room, watching your idiotic television show?" Brooke knew she never should have said those words since her mother had a strictness that no parent should ever have. But Brooke couldn't hold it in any longer, she had to say something. To cover the despair, the hatred she was harboring towards her mother.
"You do not talk to me like that young lady for I have given you the best birthday present you could ever have," her mother seethed, holding her hand up and slapping Brooke across her cheek. Brooke fell to the floor and cried, covering her stinging cheek as her mother carelessly dropped the legal document in front of Brooke.
"You will be leaving tomorrow morning at 8 o'clock. Be ready and out the door at that time or so help me you will suffer the worst next few years of your life." Angela then walked away from Brooke's life, into that dungeon that ruined her. No remorse, no greif, just anger. That's all Angela felt for her.
Brooke took the paper and ran into her room, washing the tears with her hand that was cradling her cheek. She packed anything she could in her small suitcase and rushed out of the house. That night, she slept in her neighbor's house and left to her new home the next morning. At 8 o'clock on the dot.
A new memory forged in Brooke's sleep.
Brooke was applying her mascara when Jimmy - a young boy Brooke grew up with in the foster house - barged in with a wide grin on his face. He was missing his two front teeth, Brooke thought it was the cutest thing as a six year old.
"Happy birthday, Bunny!" Jimmy piped cheerfully, using Brooke's nickname that he made for her. He said a bunny was his favorite animal and both a bunny and Brooke started with a 'b'. The logic of kids.
She was always appalled how the kid could always be so positive after dealing with a divorce at three. Two months after his parents divorced, his mother dropped him off at the doorsteps of the foster home. Jimmy's father found him and promised him he would get him back somehow.
"Thanks, Jimmy. What do you have planned for this special 16th birthday?" The first time Jimmy asked if he could organize her birthday, he was four. Brooke had agreed and since then it has been a short lived tradition.
"I wanted to take you to the park and then back here for cake. Then you'll open your presents and we'll play in the pool. The last part is a surprise." Every year he would say this but it always ended up being him sleeping in her room, cuddled in her arms, with Brooke's favorite ice cream and a movie. The end of the day was always her favorite part of the day.
"That sounds good Jimmy. Let's make some breakfast and get going afterwards," Brooke suggested.
Jimmy agreed with a nod and disappeared from Brooke's sight.
"So, what movie did you pick out?" Brooke asked, settling in her bed, her eyes growing tired after the eventful event. The whole day was delightful and Brooke never wanted to forget about it.
Jimmy rushed from the floor and jumped on Brooke's comforter with an elated giggle. "You'll have to find out. I know you'll love it."
She sighed impatiently but let the movie roll. He had chosen Brooke's favorite Disney movie, The Little Mermaid. Her eyes grew tired, closing so softly every time she heard Ariel's voice ring through the television. Eventually her eyes closed completely and she fell asleep in a peaceful slumber.
Brooke was awoken by the movement of a certain presence in the bed with her. The movie had finished and probably turned off by Brooke's foster mother. Jimmy moved some more in Brooke's arms. She closed her eyes again and let Jimmy get comfortable.
"Brooke?" Jimmy asked, turning to face her. Brooke was instantly worried. There wasn't a time when Jimmy hadn't said her nickname, 'Bunny'.
"What's wrong Jimmy?" Brooke asked quickly, automatically wiping his face for any tears and rubbing his hair for any sort of comfort. Whenever Jimmy had gotten sad by the memories of his parents, he would run to Brooke's room and she would do the same thing over and over again, any night he needed it.
"Brooke, I'm scared," Jimmy whimpered, his voice ever so soft. "I'm scared that he'll come for me like he said he would. I don't want him to take me away from my mom again."
"Jimmy, you know your mom isn't here. And he can't take you away. I won't let him," Brooke reassured, sitting up and putting the six year old in her lap, stroking his blonde locks. Jimmy relaxed in her touch.
"Thanks Mommy," Jimmy whispered. Brooke stopped stroking his hair, her face mirroring shock.
"What did you call me?" She asked.
"Mommy. That's what you are. I lost my old mom and you came to save me. You became my new Mommy. My first Mommy said she was proud of you for taking care of me and thanks you," Jimmy spoke confidently. Happiness coated his tone. So, Brooke just held him to her chest and let him call her Mommy for as long as he wanted.
"Hey, Jimmy?"
"Yes Bunny?"
"I'll be here for you, kid. I'll always be here to keep you safe." Brooke's own voice felt positive for once. Being Jimmy's mom is what God wanted her to do. That's until Jimmy's next words.
"That's wrong. You didn't keep me safe when I fell down the stairs and was put into a coma. You weren't protecting me when a glass vase fell on me, busting my head and killing me. You weren't at my funeral either. You just ran like the coward you are. Brooke, you got so scared of the past that you couldn't protect your future. You couldn't protect me." Jimmy's words were emotionless, empty, broken.
Brooke closed her eyes to stop the tears from coming. "You don't know what you're talking about, Jimmy," Brooke choked, her tone scared enough to be the victim in the horror movies. She sure felt like she was in one. Except, hers never ended. It goes on and on and on, a never ending cycle of her appending doom.
"Then look at me. If it never happened look at me." Brooke faltered, keeping her eyes closed and shaking her head. She knew if she opened her eyes, she'd face the truth. The nightmare was finally coming in place. It kept her locked in its palace and let her suffer. Brooke was unable to open her eyes, to pinch herself, to do anything because the nightmare had a mind of its own.
It has for so very long.
"I can't." Her voice broke, the soothing long gone from it. Brooke's hand was frozen in place and she could feel the blood seeping from the night the vase fell on Jimmy's head. His head shaved clean so the doctors could possibly save him. If only they had gotten the shards out a moment earlier, Jimmy might be alive right now, in Brooke's arms again.
"Because you're too scared. You're a coward." Jimmy was relentless, his words breaking her thoughts. She was too scared to look at Jimmy at the funeral, couldn't even go to it because the pain was too much. Brooke lost a loved one and couldn't say goodbye, so she held onto him to keep him close.
Brooke peeked an eye open just a centimeter wide. Jimmy was looking - glaring - at her with an intensity so bright, it made her close her eye again. Only for it to be opened forcefully. She stared into his lifeless eyes, his shredded face, his bald head.
Tears welled in Brooke's eyes. "I'm so sorry, Jimmy. I know it's all my fault. I already lost too much, I couldn't handle whatever tiny piece I had of you." Brooke couldn't remember her own voice. There was too much emotion in the air for her to breathe. She had to get out, she couldn't stay in there any longer.
Jimmy slowly vanished into thin air, a memory now hidden in a cloud of heartbreak and misery. Brooke ran to the door only for it to be opened already. She plunged through the door before it shut on her and she lost her chance.
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A/N: So, you're probably confused as to why I'm publishing this chapter early. Well, in the first chapter, it said Brooke had a nightmare. Here is the nightmare chapter.
In the next chapter, there is a dialogue going on between Aveline and Brooke so that means Tiffany is posting. But if we posted on Tuesday then I would have a nightmare chapter and Tiffany would have the real life chapter. We don't want that. Make sense?
On that note, I'd like to say Happy Late New Year and welcome to 2015! Unfortunately, school is about to start again and that means updates will be a little more difficult to post.
But stick with us please. We promise to try our best and update on the given schedule. Thank you all and keep reading!
~Morgan