I had to admit, Sinistre had changed very much. Somehow, she was looking more youthful, more beautiful. She got more offers for dates, but declined them all. She went out early and didn't get back until late. When I wanted to go with her, she yelled at me and told me that an eleven-year-old girl was not ready for the world.
Sinistre
Sinistre pulled me out of school, hating the fact that I spent so much time with Nikki. Afterwards, she kicked him out. Sinsitre forced me into wearing clothes that covered every inch of my body, and I hated it. I hated every moment of it, not being able to wear make up, like the rest of the girls, having to be dressed like a doll every moment of my life. I was truly disgusted.
Fatale, almost twelve
One day, while my mother was gone, I heard sirens and cars, screeching tires down the roads. I wondered what it was about, but I knew I shouldn't worry too much about it. I was to become twelve in not too long. So, I opened a book that Jolie read before she ran away, and I found myself unable to understand a majority of the words.
My vision blurred and failed me for a few seconds, and I could have sworn that I heard laughter. The laughter of a child. Footsteps, tiny ones, pattering through a garden full of roses and sunflowers. And what I saw was even more amazing. I saw a little girl, no older than three, peering at me through the bars of a garden.
What happened nine months later was a shock.
