Rosemary Bakshi's Arc

Chapter 1 of 7

Rosemary curled tight under her quilt, hoping tonight she could just sleep and be loved like any other seven-year-old girl. But the dark came anyway, and with it the tall, twisting shapes of her fay parents. They rose above her with cold blue eyes and clawed limbs like dead branches, their icy gowns trailing into nothing. Rosemary tried to stand brave, the way her brother always did. They showed her the family bakery floating in the dark, its windows warm and its sign swinging gently. Then her fay mother raked one claw across it. "Spoil the bread," she whispered. "Sour the milk. Crack the oven stone." Rosemary shook her head. "Please. They love me." Her fay father leaned closer, breath like winter. "Obey, or lose them." The bakery cracked and crumbled into a heap of small white bones, skulls grinning up at her from the dream floor. Rosemary saw her mother's apron among them. She screamed. The fay parents laughed, their claws stretching long toward her face, promising worse if she told, worse if she refused. Rosemary woke sobbing into her pillow, hands pressed over her mouth so no one would hear. She did not run to her mother. She did not tell. She only whispered into the dark that she would not hurt them, no matter what came next.