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A/N: For ICD.
It has never occurred to him to wonder what his life would be like without the voices' almost constant whispering. It has been part of who he is for as long as he can remember.
For most of his life, he's hated the voices, hated (feared) what they tell him, but lately there's been a new voice. Gentler. Softer. One he wants so very badly to trust. She isn't like the rest, isn't full of hate and anger.
He wants to listen to her, but he is afraid of what might happen if he does.
Because what if she's wrong?
It's been a long day and her guard is lowered. She's staring out the window, thinking about Jarod. (She's always thinking about Jarod – he's the center of her family's life.) She's feeling PMS-y and melancholy and (not for the first time) wishes she'd been born to different parents.
Almost immediately, she regrets it. This isn't her parents' fault. It's not Jarod's fault either.
But she wants a normal life.
Suddenly, there's a hand on her shoulder. She turns, her brown eyes meeting a pair of cold blue ones.
And then she's being pushed backwards out the window, and she's falling . . .
Age four: Edna helps her make a Father's Day card. She applies lipstick to her lips, feeling very grown up, and kisses the inside of the card. She knows her Daddy will love it.
Seven: She wakes up at five, excited for her first day of 'big school'. She has new shoes and a new dress, and can hardly wait to begin.
Fifteen: She talks her dad into letting her go on a date, and lets Robert Whitman kiss her when he drops her off afterwards.
Seventeen: Three days before she dies, she tells her father she loves the locket.