The Popularity Game

{ t h i r t e e n } The Tale of Agent S.

filler chapter. bear with me, dolls.

_

The long blades of overgrown grass tickled my legs as I shifted around it. The luscious greens and pastels of blooming peonies loomed over me. I didn't know where I was, or how I got there, but I knew one thing for sure—I didn't like it here.

"Isabelle?"

At default, I turned around. I mentally scolded myself, remembering that that wasn't my name anymore. It had been so long since I'd been Isabelle Winters.

Isabelle Winters is dead. I reminded myself. But that didn't stop my breath from hitching when I saw who was standing in front of me.

"Isabelle." She repeated, with certainty and longing, this time. "I'm so sorry, honey."

I shook my head, taking a step back. And then another. I didn't want to be here, didn't want to face her anymore.

I just couldn't.

"Belle, please. Don't go." She pleaded. "Please forgive me."

Tears were streaming down my face heavily. I tried to wipe them away, but realized soon after that my hands were wet as well. When did it start raining? I wondered absently as my dress started to soak with rain water.

I managed to sputter out a response, although the loud roar of thunder cut me off. "I will never forgive you for leaving me." I take another step backwards, but soon realize too late that I'd stepped into a pit. I was falling before I knew it—and the last thing I saw was her mouth agape, her half completed apology hanging for nobody to hear.

_

I ran my hand across the cushion of the old couch in my room, and although it had a sense of familiarity to it, I knew that there was something wrong.

Like something was missing.

The door creaked open, and a little girl with glasses much too big for her sat there, perched atop her nose. Her hazel hair pulled into a loose ponytail. She held a box in her delicate hands, and although she was gripping it tightly, I could tell that her hands were shaking.

She ran her eyes through the room, and for a second, I wondered if I should leave or get up. But her gaze swept through me, and I decided to stay where I was.

A lady in white appeared behind her, her red hair swaying gracefully as she moved. I remembered staring at her in awe, the first time I saw her, and wondering if she was the queen of hearts.

(Not the evil one, like the one in Alice in Wonderland, because come on, that would just be creepy.)

The girl set the box down, and stood awkwardly by the bed, which I only now realized was the only other piece of furniture in the room, other than the couch I was sitting on.

The lady smiled at the sight, and gently approached her, bending down so that they would be on eye level.

"This is your room now." She said excitedly, and I smiled at the way that the little girl tried to match her excitement. The corner of her lips twitched up slightly, but the excitement didn't quite reach her eyes.

The lady took her hands in her own manicured ones, and for some reason, I could feel how her hands felt in mine.

Gentle and comforting.

"Everything's going to be alright. She can't hurt you anymore." She said. "I'm your mother now."

I found myself unconsciously nodding at her words. And the girl did too.