© 2002 by Sarah Ryniker JudgmentalMama@hotmail.com http://www.oocities.org/iamthealmightyrah/FF.html

STORY LAST UPDATED ON 21/04/2002

Rain of Fire Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Epilogue

CHAPTER ONE

I had long since decided that complaining about life would get me nowhere, yet that was exactly what Mitch seemed to want me to do. I think he just liked all of the drama because it gave him something to do. So anything that bothered me would fall onto his ears. Anyone else, however, would simply think nothing got to me. Because that was how I acted now. I didn't like people knowing what made me angry anymore. If they knew that, then they knew how vulnerable I truly was. My temper flaring only proved that I did have feelings. I didn't want anyone to know I had feelings.
    Of course, Damian tried day in and day out to try and convince me that he had changed. I was already convinced of it, but my anger at the affair was still there. He had sex with both Mama and Celeste and that was enough to make me sick. I felt I could never forgive him for it. I would not be added to his list of women he'd slept with. My trust issues with him just weren't secure. I loved to see him with Julie, but never could I see him in the future with me. Damian and I fought far too often, anyway.
    Ella was a happy-go-lucky woman, even more so now. Ever since Mitch had escaped death, her relief over it had made her the most enthusiastic woman I had ever known. That and my knowing about the past made her talk more about Rachael, my real mother. I could tell she truly loved her more than anything.
    "You know," she told me one day as we sat out in her special part of the garden, talking. "I always admired your mother. She had a fiery temper and yet she had a way of making the whole world seem so wonderful, even if she was absolutely miserable." She sighed. "I still have no idea why Gerald always treated her the way he did. It confused me. Guess that is something I will never know."
    "Was my mother ever in love?" It was something that bothered me all of the time. I wondered if she ever had been in love or if my father had ruined it all for her by raping her. It ate at me to think that he'd, that I'd, ruined it all for the woman that seemed to be a very special person.
    Ella smiled brightly, then and looked off towards the roses. She seemed lost in her thoughts before she spoke again. "Rachael was very much in love. Melanie Daniels and I were the only ones who ever knew about it, of course. We were the only people she trusted." She laughed. "We often helped her sneak out to meet Brendan. In spite of how rich he was, Gerald found him to be beneath the Parish family and had forbid them to see one another."
    Before her last words about my grandfather forbidding my mother could enter my mind, the name Brendan clicked into my head. I sat there letting Ella drift off into her memories, humming softly, while I thought of where I'd heard the name. Then it hit me. Brendan was the name of the young man in the picture with my real mother Rachael! So that was the young man she'd been in love with. Oh, now I was thoroughly convinced that there were so many more secrets. Especially since the past now included a love affair my mother was having.
    I always tried to get Mitch to tell me more about my real mother. I wanted to know anything that he knew. After all, he was five years old when she left. He had to remember something. Yet every time I asked him, he claimed all that he could remember was that she was really motherly towards him and he had loved her dearly. I would grow irritated with him and leave, frustrated that he couldn't, or wouldn't, tell me more.
    Most of my time, however, was spent with baby Julie. I often told her to call me Mommy, because all in all, that was who I was to her. I was her mother now. Just as Karen became my mother in heart rather than blood, I became Julianna's. I could now understand why Mama was so attached to me. I didn't have to be her blood for her to love me so much. The love just came naturally. It was something that was special between a child and the woman raising it. Whether or not you birthed the child, it became yours if you're the one raising it. And though I was only sixteen years old, I was raising Mama and Damian's daughter.
    I didn't think a baby could get any more beautiful than Julie was. Her dark ruby red hair was thick, and though she was only six months old, it reached her shoulders in little ringlet curls. With every passing day, her eyes became more and more emerald green, and her smile became more and more like Damian's. She was truly the most beautiful child I had ever laid my eyes on.
    Spending so much time with Damian was making me feel so suffocated. I felt that if I let my guard down a little, I would start caring for him more than I wanted to. So I kept up my guard, making rude comments to him at every turn. I didn't want to fall in love with Damian. I wouldn't fall in love with Damian! He had hurt me twice over, three times if you counted the child of his I now took care of. I wasn't about to let myself fall for him the way Mama and Celeste did. I wouldn't, because that would mean getting my heart broken.
    But Damian had other plans on his mind. And his jealousy of Mitch was beginning to grate on my nerves badly. Every time I would come out of the library or garden, where Mitch spent most of his time, Damian would interrogate me about our conversation. Not that I ever answered his probing, annoying questions. He still did it every time.
    One day as I walked out of the library, my hair a little messy, Damian was on the attack. "Why do you give into that crippled bastard, but you won't even touch me? You avoid touching me!" He wasn't screaming, but he may as well have done so.
    This was one of the times I was unable to hide my feelings and my temper. "He's not a crippled bastard, you imbecile! He's a good, caring young man. What I do with Mitch is none of your damn business. And for your information we don't do a damn thing that has to do with sex, so get over it!" I hollered, shoving him and walking down the hall to Julianna's nursery. Her smile and laughter could usually cheer me up, no matter what.
    After a few minutes of playing with Julianna, my mood lightened, until Damian walked in. He resembled a puppy that had been kicked and was coming to pout and apologise. He looked rather pathetic to me. He always came to me looking like this, though. And every time I would forgive him. Even if in the beginning I swore I wouldn't.
    "I'm sorry, Phoenix, it's just that-"
    I cut him off. "I don't want to hear why you're jealous, Damian; it'll only aggravate me more," I declared and waved towards the door. "Just get out, please. I don't wish to look at you right now."
    "Just listen to me, Phoenix, please!" I hated his begging and I shot a look of daggers his way. He gulped, but determined as he was he didn't give up. "Phoenix, I just don't understand why you spend so much time with him, confide in him and are so close with him and not me. Aren't I as good a friend as he is? I have known you longer!" he whined.
    I rolled my eyes to the ceiling. "I sometimes wonder, Damian," I began, turning back to Julianna, "if you ever hear how pathetic you sound when you whine to me." I looked back up to him. "And for your information, you make one lousy friend. Having sex with my mother and sister and then expect me to fall head over heels in love with you. You expect me to trust you the way I do Mitch?" I laughed. "That'll never happen, Damian. I have no interest in trusting you. I merely am doing a favour for Mama by raising her child."
    "They aren't your real mother and sister," he tried to reason, holding his hands out.
    I shook my head. "They are my real mother and sister because that is the mother that raised me and the sister that I was raised with. Blood or not, they are still my family. I won't become like them. Give it up, Damian. I'm tired of this!" I picked up Julianna and took her to the rocking chair. It was time for her nap and I was wasting my breath arguing with Damian. Without another word, I waved him off. This conversation was over to me. Though it wouldn't truly be the end of it. It was the same argument we had time and again. He would never stop.
    As I rocked Julianna, I heard voices in the hall. One was unmistakably Ella's and the other was Grandfather Gerald's. I stopped singing to Julianna and listened. Ever since I had moved here, I had become nosy, always interested in conversations, hoping to hear a bit of the past. In this conversation, I was not disappointed. Only confused once the voices drifted away.
    "Gerald, why don't you just let me explain to her-?" I heard Ella begging him. I knew that she wanted to explain something to me. What it was I didn't know, but it had to be something if Ella wanted to tell me.
    "I told you not to even bring up that little bitch's name, Ella. Now she knows all about Rachael. That's bad enough. I don't want her poking and prodding even farther. Enough is enough!" he yelled. I could hear his heavy footsteps stop somewhere near the nursery. I held my breath. I didn't want to look at him. I had a hard time looking at him, knowing how he had felt about my mother, his daughter. And knowing how he felt about me.
    "She needs to know about who she is, Gerald. Phoenix needs to know about her mother, what really happened." Ella was getting annoyed with him. It didn't shock me. Lately, Ella was always annoyed with him.
    "You don't even know what really happened," he grunted.
    "Oh, I don't? Well, since you knew her so damn well, I bet you could tell me exactly what happened, right?" she snapped sarcastically. "Give me a break, Gerald. You've always wanted to believe the worst in Rachael."
    I could almost see him glaring at her. Not another word was said as I heard him pound his way towards the stairs. Just after his footsteps faded away, there was a soft knock on the door and Ella came in. She smiled at me, her warm sweet smile. "Hello, Phoenix. How are you and Julie today?" She always had a way of making the war in our house easier to live with. Her warming smile could ease the pain in our hearts. No matter what, she could smile. I admired her for that.
    "We're great, Ella. How are you?" I asked. Though I already knew how she was. She was irritable and tired of dealing with her cruel husband. But why someone merely three years older than my mother would marry a man so much older was beyond my knowledge. It was just another secret of the past, waiting for me to understand it.
    "I could be better." She sighed and sat down. "That man is most impossible, truly he is. I don't know why he hates you so much."
    "I do," I replied dryly. "He doesn't like me because I have the guts to stand up to him."
    "Well, of course that is part of the problem. But I am convinced that there is more to it than that." I knew Ella wanted to tell me something, but Grandfather Gerald didn't want her to tell it. I held my breath, hoping she would say something anyway. "But of course, who knows. After all, according to Rachael, he hated her because she was one of the few ready to take him out on a battlefield and challenge him to a duel." She laughed at some memory. Ella was getting more lost in her memories every day. Sometimes she even slipped and called me Rachael and would keep doing it until I reminded her that I was Phoenix, not Rachael.
    I smiled. "Was my mother really like that?" I asked.
    Ella's eyes widened at my question. "Oh, yes dear! Your mother was one of the most stubborn, hotheaded people I'd ever met. Even more so than you, I think. She was always getting into argument after argument with Gerald. He truly just didn't like her," she said, shaking her head. Then she slapped my knee gently. "Well, I didn't come in here to jibber jabber!" she cried, standing up. "I was wondering if you'd like to go shopping with me. I've been bored out of my mind lately, and not to mention stressed because of Gerald. I need a shopping buddy and I'd love for you to come with me." She smiled brighter. "And I have a special guest joining us. I think you'll be happy to see her." I didn't know who "her" was, but I quickly got up, placed a sleeping Julianna in her crib and left the room with Ella. The special guest thing had me wanting to go to the car faster. Who was going with us? It had to be somebody I knew. My curiosity was driving me crazy!
    When we walked outside to get into the car I was a little shocked to see Melanie Daniels leaning against the car. Her legs were crossed over one another, her brown hair pulled back in a simple ponytail, as it had been the day I had met her, and her makeup done maybe a little overly much. But Melanie wasn't one to care about how she appeared to others. She liked the way she looked and so be it; that was how she was going to go out. I couldn't help but admire her, even if she did dress a little outrageously. But I would soon find out, she was always in purple, lavender or violet. It was her colour, Ella told me one day. She didn't like anything else but the many colours of purple.
    "Hi, Phoenix!" she called, coming over towards Ella and me. When she reached us, to my surprise, she hugged me. "I'm terribly sorry about our first meeting. I know it shocked you to hear what you did, dear. But please don't hate the messenger for delivering such horrible news to you." She gave a pout and I smiled. How could anyone hate this outrageous, yet wonderfully friendly woman?
    "Of course I don't hate you, Melanie. I am learning to deal with the truth more and more lately." Which was true. It was becoming easier and easier to deal with every passing day.
    "That's great, sweetie!" she claimed, pinching my cheek. "Well! Let's go shopping! I'm surprised Ella didn't say something. She used to be so impatient when we were leaving to go shopping!"
    Ella simply smiled. "Age and stress changes you, Melanie." Then she laughed. "Well, perhaps not you, dearest friend. But it certainly has me."
    "The thing with Rachael has changed me to a certain extent," Melanie admitted, a sad look coming over her pretty but over made-up face. "I just pretend that it doesn't get to me as much as it does." Then just as quickly as her mood became melancholy, her face lifted to brightness once more. "But let's not think about sadness before shopping. It will lose all of its splendour!"
    I enjoyed my day with Melanie and Ella. Both had wonderful stories of my real mother. Evidently, she had been the leader of the pack. "She always had some kind of wisecrack for everything somebody said. Especially when arguing," Melanie told us as we rode on the escalator in the mall.
    "Oh yes!" Ella remembered aloud. "I remember so well how well Rachael argued. The only problem was once she started, she just couldn't stop!" Ella exclaimed, her eyes wide.
    Melanie laughed. "Hours after an argument, Rachael would still be complaining about it. And if she had calmed down, every now and then she would start her complaints up again. And she always thought of even more things that she felt she should have said." Melanie shook her head, her smile wide. "I always told her to remember those things for the next argument."
    I smiled. "My mother really was a pistol just like you've told me, wasn't she, Ella?"
    "More than you'll ever know, sadly." A frown creased her pretty face. "She would have made one wonderful mother, Phoenix. She wanted you in spite of the fact that Michael had…" She drifted off, but I knew what she was saying. It made my cheeks redden. I knew what people thought. What mother could possibly love a baby of rape? But according to Ella and Melanie, my mother could. She just never got the chance.
    When we got to Melanie's home that day to drop her off, I was saddened. I was definitely enjoying Melanie's company. She was so outgoing and fun. I didn't believe anyone could ever be gloomy around her enthusiastic personality. I hated to see this day end. It had been the least stressful day I'd had for over a year. It felt good to laugh and to breathe, knowing that there was nobody looking over your shoulder, ready, waiting to pounce. Of course, I was about to be proven wrong on that point. Someone, no matter how good my day was, was always ready, waiting to pounce.
    Ella and I had been home for not much longer than five minutes. I had just finished putting away the few shirts and skirts that were bought for me, when Grandfather Gerald came through my door. I was annoyed. The man, all too obviously, had to be taught how to knock.
    "What do you want?" I demanded, making my way from the closet to the vanity table chair where I sat. I was never one to cower from him, nor did I pretend to like him. I had no respect for him, and I made sure he knew that.
    He glowered at me. I was hoping he'd just walk out rather than answer but answer he did. "Jenny came to me and told me," he declared, looking satisfied, as if he'd caught me doing something I wasn't supposed to be doing. Which I wasn't. I never did anything that I wasn't supposed to. I hated dealing with him.
    "What did my wonderful aunt tell you?" My blood was beginning to boil. Jenny was so twofaced. She was so nice and friendly to my face, but I knew she talked about me behind my back. Yet I had thought that her trying to get me into trouble all of the time was over. Evidently, it wasn't.
    "She said that the reason you two came home so late last weekend was because you forced her into drinking and 'hooking up'," - he made quotation marks with his fingers as he said this - "with some boys."
    I shook my head and let out a sound of disgust from the back of my throat. What in God's name was she up to now? Instead of denying it, however, I attacked him. "Are you still on last weekend?" I snapped. "Boy, you really do live in the past."
    "I don't give a damn about you being my granddaughter," he began to raise his voice. "No matter what Ella says, I can still kick you out of this house, you disobedient little bitch!" He was getting angrier by the second. I could see it in the way the tips of his ears were turning red. It gave me satisfaction to see that I could make him as angry as he made me, and I smiled.
    "Of course you can throw me out, Grandfather," I said nonchalantly, looking over at my nails as if interested in them, rather than the conversation. "But would you really? I know you hated my mother, but rumour has it you hated my father much more. God only knows why, others say the two of you used to be like father and son, rather than nephew and uncle." Which was true. People said that my grandfather and father had once been close, but something happened and he began to hate my father even more than he hated my mother. And that was saying a lot.
    His face flushed red and I congratulated myself on hitting a raw nerve. I smiled wider. "That is none of your damn business, Phoenix. Back off. I've warned you before to keep the past where it is!"
    "But you don't!" I cried, thrusting myself up off the seat. "You never leave things in the past! Hell, Grandfather dearest, you live in the past! It's all you think about day and night, especially since I came here to remind you! You all thought that by sending me off with that jackass of a father of mine that I would just disappear like every other mistake you people have made. Out of sight, out of mind, right?" I was getting more frustrated and angry. But it was true. My grandfather lived in the past. The mistakes of the past ate at him, making him an angry and mean man. I almost pitied him rather than hate him. Almost, anyway.
    He came toward me at a fast pace and stopped right in front of me. "Don't talk to me like that, Phoenix. I will not put up with your mouth. You've got away with it so far, but don't expect to for much longer. I will put a stop to it in any way that I can."
    His threat fell on deaf ears. I wasn't afraid of him. I refused to be afraid of other people. My father and grandfather were as mean as they came, anyway. Minus murderers, but that didn't count. "Don't you expect me to cower away from you and hide, Grandfather. I'm not afraid of, and I never will be afraid of you. Get over the fact that you cannot intimidate me!" I walked to the door and waved towards it. "Now please, leave my bedroom. I don't wish to see you any longer."
    He walked to the door slowly. He stopped just before leaving, and looked at me. Then, only to my slight surprise, he slapped my across the face. "I won't have it," he growled.
    I smiled viciously. "Neither will I."

Rain of Fire Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Epilogue

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