Post by delilah rose emerson on Sept 4, 2010 20:28:49 GMT -5
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DELILAH ROSE EMERSON
eighteen, fledgling, crescent
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“Let’s just start out with your name.”
“Delilah.”
“”No, your real name, dear. Not that fake one you made up.”
“Delilah.”
Delilah rested her elbow against the armrest of the chair she was seated on. She propped up her head with her hand as she gazed at the lady across from her with a bored expression. Why was she here again? Oh, that’s right, her father was paying for her to go to a therapist. Why? Well, ever since his wife left, he’s had trouble accepting his…unique child and decided that there had to be something wrong with her. Why else would she be chosen to go to that devil’s school?
“You and I both know that ‘Delilah’ isn’t your real name. What name did your parents give you when you were born?”
“I don’t know why you’re wasting your time asking. My father already told you.”
“Yes, but I would like you to admit it. What is your true name?”
“Delilah. Delilah Rose Emerson. That’s my name.”
The therapist, who had instructed Delilah to call her Anne, sighed. She jotted something down on the pad of paper that she was holding while rubbing the space between her eyebrows in annoyance. Delilah just shrugged lightly, as if to say that it wasn’t her problem. She thought her new name, scratch that, her true name, suited her much more than that filthy name that her father had bestowed upon her.
“I have written down here that your name is Hannah Carson. Why don’t you like your name, Hannah?”
“I like my name.”
“Oh really? Then why don’t you go by Hannah?”
“Because that’s not my name. It’s Delilah.”
Anne was growing angrier by the second, and Delilah could see it written all over her face. The elder woman glared at her, clenching her jaw. Probably to stop the flow of profanities that she wanted to toss at the youngster. Delilah still seemed bored by the whole thing. She played with a stray thread on her sweater, tugging at it and loosening it from the sleeve. Hannah. Hannah. Hannah. Her old name, her human name, rolled around in her head. The name carried with it old baggage, which she had long ago tried to suppress, but somehow kept rearing its ugly head around. You fault Hannah. How could you do this to us, Hannah? She left because of you, Hannah. Your fault. Your fault. Delilah grimaced, closing her hand around her wrist and pressing her nails into her skin.
“Fine, Delilah, I guess we’ll just move on. Why don’t you just start from the beginning. Tell my everything you can remember from as far back as you can.” A pleasant smile was plastered on the woman’s face. Fake. Fake. Fake. Fine, let’s wipe that pretty little smile off of her face. Here’s for you, dad.
“My father named me when I was born. At least, that’s what Ethan told me. Ethan’s my brother, by the way. He’s three years older. And no, he’s not like me. He’s still just a human, never marked and won’t ever be. Anyway, my father named me after his mother, a terribly prideful and rude old lady. I never liked it when she visited because she was such a bitch.” Anne twitched in response to the swear that flew so carelessly from Delilah’s lips. The girl pretended not to notice and continued with her story. “I don’t really remember much from when I was a little tyke, but I do remember one time when Ethan learned how to make bird feeders out of pine cones, peanut butter and bird seeds. He tried to see if it worked on little sisters too. Needless to say, I spent hours in the bath tub while my mom tried to work out the peanut butter from my hair. I’ve always been a little wary of birds ever since. And I can’t stand the smell of peanut butter anymore…” Delilah grimaced.
“Back on topic dear…”
“Oh right, sorry. Well, anyway, my childhood was pretty normal I guess. Ethan was always teasing me and stuff, but we were close. We always went on adventures and stuff. I started school and that was alright too. I met my two best friends there: Riley and Jaden. We’re still really close, which surprises a lot of people because once kids are marked they tend to lose their human friends. Ah, well, anyway, back on topic.” Delilah seem to wince slightly and she tugged on the sleeves on her sweater, pulling them past her fingers. “When I was about seven was when my life all went to hell. My mother was leading a very stressful life while trying to balance work and her family. She’s a lawyer, and as if that wasn’t stressful enough, she had to deal with us. My father is a very...meticulous person. Things have to be a certain way, his way, otherwise they need to be redone. She would try cleaning, cooking, even decorating the home, but if it didn’t fit my father’s taste, it had to go. She tried her best to stay for us, and by us I mean Ethan and me, but she just couldn’t handle it anymore.” She looked down at this point, digging her nails into the flesh of her wrist again. She sucked in a sharp breath from the initial pain.
“The night that she left began like any other night. Mom came into my room to kiss me good night and wish me pleasant dreams. I guess I could tell that something was off about her, but I didn’t think anything about it. I should have been worried when she asked if it was alright if she laid with me for a while because she usually spent part of her night preparing for the morning—making our lunches for school, getting her papers together, ect.—but I couldn’t have expected what she would do to us. So, she laid down with me, arms wrapped around me as she cradled me to her chest and told me that she loved me.” Delilah’s voice gained a hard edge as she fought past the tears that were threatening to fall. She was supposed to forget about this. The hurt was supposed to leave already. She could still imagine the scene perfectly. Seven-year old Delilah curled against her mother, face nuzzled in her hair while her tiny hands gripped her mother’s shirt. Her mother smelled like lemons that night, probably due to the fact that she had made Delilah’s favorite treat that night: lemon bars. “I fell asleep like that. I didn’t even notice when she got up from the bed. I didn’t hear her as she walked out the door. I didn’t hear as the car drove away. She was gone, just like that.”
“The next morning, I woke up to Ethan screaming. I didn’t understand what he was freaking out about, but I went to his room anyway to look. He was sitting on his bed, tossing items around his room and just shrieking. I assumed that he had been grounded or something. But then my father came in, looking shocked. ‘Ethan, calm down. I’m still here, you don’t have to worry.’ He said as he hugged Ethan to quiet him. ‘How could she leave? Why would she leave? She said she loved us!’ Ethan was mumbling over and over again, still sobbing. It was then when it hit me. I ran to my parents room, hoping to see my mom just waking up and smiling at me with her lazy smile. She wasn’t there. I ran to the kitchen, hoping to see her cooking breakfast. She wasn’t there. Finally, I ran to the garage and noticed that the other car was gone. She wasn’t here anymore. She left us.” By this point, Delilah had composed herself, though she was gripping the edge of her sweater tightly. “I started to cry then. I was just standing in the hallway, shrieking. Ethan and my father had come out of his room by that point and were making their way over to me. ‘How could she leave?’ My father asked aloud. He looked around the room, as if searching for the answer, then his eyes landed on me. I was a sniffling, sobbing little girl who had too much attitude for his liking and dared to stand up to him. I had gotten in trouble with my teachers more than once for fighting with kids when I thought I was being treated unfairly and I had selfishly monopolized my mother’s time with the dance and singing classes that I was attending. I saw my father’s expression change before my eyes, and I was scared.”
“He moved closer to me, grinning that horrible grin as he stared down at me. ‘I know why Mommy left Ethan.’ He cooed, gripping my brother’s arm and dragging him so he was standing next to my father. ‘Little Hannah was too much of a handful for Mommy to take care of all of us. She’s a selfish little girl. She’s the one who drove her away.’ And then he hit me. I was too stunned to cry, too shocked to fight back. I just simply fell down, hand pressed against the red spot forming on my cheek. He grabbed my arm roughly then and lifted my up. ‘It’s all Hannah’s fault.’ He pulled me close, grinning at me. ‘It’s all your fault, Hannah.’ I looked to Ethan, hoping that he would help me out somehow. But, he didn’t. He just stood there, watching as father hit me again.” Delilah touched her cheek lightly, brushing her fingers against the invisible mark that would be forever stained in her memory.
“It continued on like that for a while. Any small screw up and my father would come down on me. It was harder once I grew older because I began to fight back. Teachers would be concerned when I came to school with a black eye or bruises on my arms, but I lied and told them that I tripped, or ran into a door, got hurt doing gym, whatever I could to avoid the looks that they gave me. I could handle the situation on my own. By high school I was sneaking out of the house, sometimes staying at friend’s houses to avoid my father. I could fight back, but when he double teamed with Ethan I couldn’t handle it. I stayed with Jaden and Riley a lot of the time. They were brothers, twins actually, and their mother was used to be being over so often because we always hung out when we were younger too. Of course, she wasn’t aware that I was sleeping over. She would have flipped shit if she found that out.” A small grin lit on her lips, no doubt her imagining the boy’s mother having a freak out over the prospect of finding Delilah hiding out in the boy’s room.
“I was sixteen when the tracker found me. I remember I was walking with Jaden and Riley to their house so we could study for our science test together. The tracker came out of nowhere and pointed to me, whispering the words that sealed my fate.
‘Hannah Carson, night has chosen thee; thy death will be thy birth; night calls to thee; harken to her sweet voice, your destiny awaits you at the house of night.’
I collapsed then. Jaden had to carry me home and begged his mother to take me to the school. My father was off on a business trip anyway—being a Record Label Owner makes him a busy busy man—so she didn’t question why the boys didn’t take me home. I woke up in the car and clung to the twins as we drove to the house of Night. I was sobbing. Jaden and Riley assumed that I was crying out of fear, but it was quite the opposite actually. I was happy. I wouldn’t have to go home anymore. Sure, I was upset that I wouldn’t be able to see Jaden and Riley anymore, but we could still call each other and webchat and whatever else. When we arrived at the school, I was told that I could choose my own identity. I guess that’s when I officially dropped my old name.” Delilah shrugged and leaned back in her chair. “That’s all I guess. I attend the House of Night now, and I’m happy there. My father doesn’t visit much, not good for his image I guess. Not like I ever really was.” She smiled wryly.
Anne put down her pencil and looked up at the girl, her expression carefully guarded. She straightened up and cleared her throat. “I just have one last question. Why did you choose Delilah?”
Delilah smiled this time, a genuine smile that made her face light up. “It’s what my mom wanted to name me. It was our little secret, the name that she always called me when we were alone. And her maiden name was Emerson, so I adopted that name instead.” Anne stood up and handed Delilah her notebook. “We’re done here, you don’t need to come again.” Delilah looked down at the pad of paper and grinned, her smile making her eyes squint.Hannah Carson
Delilah Rose Emerson
--problem with authority--> tough, stubborn
--overdramatic--> realistic, resourceful
--heartless--> compassionate, hurting
--crazy--> unique
To Hell with Henry Carson.
"She forgot witty." Delilah murmured with a grin. She ripped the page from the pad of paper and tucked it into her pocket. To hell with Henry Carson indeed. It's clear who the crackpot is in this family.
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ALLY
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