La douleur de rêves: Part 1

A/N: While watching Chain of Memories online, I released something: most everyone hates Larxene. Me, I wonder what causes a person to get so much amusement out of others pain and what must have happened to make her how she is. The first part of her story, La douleur de rêves (The Pain of Dreams) reflects on her early years, roughly 2-6 years old.

Warning: Contains innuendos to sexual abuse, prostitution, and some physical abuse.

My eyes snap open. This is where my heart would be racing. I'd be short of breath, maybe even trying to hold back tears. That is, of course, if I could feel anything. That's what's weird about not having a heart; you can't feel anything. I sit up on the side of my bed, running my hand through my hair. It was all so real. I wish I remembered what it was like, to feel, like the girl in my dreams. But if you can feel, you can also get hurt. No weakness is allowed. Don't let it have any part of you.

I look back on the dream. I remember all that happened, in vivid detail. I see it all the time. It always starts the same way. The same thing over and over. So I can't ever forget. Why can't I push it out of my mind?

"That's not you anymore," I whisper. "You're better than that." Do I really believe that though? Can I really leave those lives behind?


It always starts with her, that girl that was me so long ago. I barely connect with her anymore, but the wounds still sting sometimes.

The dream always starts the same way. A little girl sits on the floor, playing with a rag doll. Mommy sits in a corner, folding clothes. The room is cold; the girl's tiny fingers hint the color blue. She moves in closer to the poor excuse for a fire. The door opens. A dark figure fills it. "Daddy!" The girl runs toward the man. He holds up his hand, stopping her in her tracks.

"Not now." He looks tired. Beaten down, the girl turns and goes back to her doll. Short, brown hair falls in her face, covering her cyan eyes. The man gets himself some food. It's cold; he says something under his breath, a bad word. Mommy does nothing. Silence.

"Into bed now, little one." Some warmth comes from the sheets, but not enough. Mommy coughs…hard…on the other side of the curtain. Voices whisper on the other side.

"Why do you treat her like that?"

"Why does it have to act like that?"

"She loves you. She misses you. Why do you push her away?"

"You can't expect me to do EVERYTHING. I'll be leaving again soon, anyway. It's better if I…she doesn't feel anything when I leave."

"You're leaving again? You just got back!" Cough.

"I can't help it."

More coughing. It's getting worse.

"Will you stop that coughing!? Do you want it to hear?"

"SHE has a name, you now! And all she wants is for her father to love her!"

Flesh hits flesh. The girl pulls the doll tighter to her chest. She will keep away the demons.

"Don't talk to me like that!" Silence. Small, quiet cries. "I don't have to take this."

Door opens. The man is gone. He's walked out, out of our… I mean, their… lives.

Mommy cries for days. She sits on the bed, rocking herself. "I loved him. I really did. Why me?" The girl sits nearby. They don't have any money to get food. Mommy has men come to the house every night. She hides the girl so no one will see her. Mommy gets money and they're fine for a short time. Mommy gets sicker. Her cough gets worse and worse. The men stop coming. Soon, she can't leave the bed. A monster lives inside the girl. It threatens to eat her if she doesn't feed it. She can't leave Mommy. Many black nights and dark days. Lots of sleep. The house is silent. The door opens and light comes in. A man enters the house. He says words to Mommy. She doesn't answer. He places his hand on her neck. His head drops and turns to leave. He sees m…the girl.

He walks closer. His warm hand presses on her neck. Shock fills his eyes. "Sweetie, can you hear me?" She struggles to move her head. Strong arms pick her up. It's time to leave Mommy. She left too, just like the man.


The girl gets put with a young family that takes care of her for a short while. They love her…something she's never really experienced before. Then they took her away from them…something about them not being able to take care of her well enough because they didn't have enough money.

Journey from family to family. "She doesn't fit." "She doesn't belong here." Onto the next one.

Some of them do things to m…her. Terrible things, things no one should ever have to experience. Her body is abused and used; she's an object. Not human. She doesn't deserve respect…or love.

She had enough of it. When one of the men comes for her, she fights back. He eventually gives up…she isn't worth the effort, and she's out on the street. The child services pick her up again, but they hold on to her this time. She can help with catching the creeps, and apparently she has an uncle that will be able to take care of her soon. They send her to his world, a place called RadiantGarden. They wash their hands of her and leave her with another stranger, one who's never around. Lots of time to herself.

She sits on a sidewalk, back against a building. Warm bricks, a nice breeze carries the smell of flowers; she's thinking. Her heart hurts. Why does no one want me? she thinks. Why does no one care?

A man walks by. He works at the castle. His face looks toward her. "Hey kid, what you doing?"

"Thinking"

"Really." He kneels down to reach her level. "What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing."

"That's a lot of tears over nothing." She wipes her face, her eyes still red. "You can tell me. I might be able to help."

She hesitates, for a minute. "No one wants me. It hurts my feelings." At least, that's part of it. He doesn't need to know the rest of it.

"So act like you don't have any." She stares up into his eyes, confused. "If you don't have feelings, no one can hurt you. You don't want people to see that you are broken down. It's weakness, and people will hurt you more when you're weak. No feelings, no weakness, no hurt."

"Does it work?"

"It sure does. Just make sure you stay strong. Don't let the emotions take hold or get any part of you."

"Braig," a voice calls off in the distance. "Where are you? You have guard duty."

"See you around, kid. Remember what I said." He leaves too.

But the words stay. They will become a creed, a way of life. They set themselves up, deep inside her heart until they build a wall to protect her. But even the greatest walls have weak spots.