Chapter Forty-Four: The Clone Arrives

Irish leaves her room in a bundle of emotions, unable to watch her twin sob so viciously into her pillow. She walks into the hallway, where Roxanne has a small smirk on her face. Irish sees it for what it is though, she sees the upset trembling in her limbs, can almost feel the self-hatred lingering in her eyes.
"You slapped her." Irish whispers softly. Roxanne ducks her head and nods. She stares at the wooden floor for a moment, unable to meet Irish's eye, before escaping to her garden. Irish shakes her head softly, she wants to feel angry with Roxanne, but she knows that it's Nathalie's death that's causing her family to fall apart. Irish can see the pain and grief in those bright green eyes. Her family is grieving, and they are lashing out at each other to avoid the pain. She only feels pity, not anger, for Roxanne. She rushes off to her garden, where Irish knows she's going to beat herself up for what she's done.

After hours of avoiding her bedroom, Irish forces herself to sleep amidst the jagged sobs of her sister. Her dreams twist and swirl. Crystallized tears pouring out of haunted green eyes. Fire breathing dragons invading her home. Nathalie's body, bloody and bruised like a TV murder scene, pleading for life again. Tears run down her face as she sleeps, just like her sister.

 Isa wakes up with a sticky, tear-stained face. She forces herself to wake up and make some breakfast, despite the overwhelming dreariness.

Usually she feels a sense of accomplishment when she makes a successful meal, but she just feels tired. She didn't sleep well last night, her emotions rampant from the fight with Roxanne. She did mean what she said, but not in such a...harsh way. She just wants to hang out with her mother more, but she knows that gardening is hard work. And she remembers lots of times as a toddler and young child where Roxie doted on her, it's just faded away somewhat.

 Yes, she knows she needs to say sorry soon. But for now, she's going to stick with the self-pity. Maybe a night with Cally will give her enough strength to apologize properly to Roxanne?

Roxanne is laughing, smiling, but it's not happy. It's at the blink of sanity,  crying as she's laughing so damn hard that she can't breathe. Only her plants understand her, love her despite what a horrible person she is.

She pours her soul into the plant, revealing all her hidden emotions. How she feels so lonely, how she hardly sees Tyson anymore. How both Ned and Nathalie, pseudo-parents to her, were ripped out her life. How her babies are growing up, how they're suffering and she can't fix it. How she makes it worse, she hit her baby. Just like Ruby, but so much more precious.

She watches the wilted plant come back to life, and she knows that she needs to apologize. For being absent, for not stopping the fight before it got so bad. She's the adult here, she should have known better.

Tyson wants to cry himself, but not because of the fight. He doesn't know about it, being at work at the time. No, he's feeling like his children are growing up too fast. Isa has a boyfriend now, and it's only a matter of time with Irish. He has Roxanne, but even that's just not the same. He wants another baby, another kid to watch over.

He decides to take Roxanne to a romantic date at a Chinese Take Out place. It's dirty and has a weird smell emitting from the place, but he's sure there's no blue men lurking around here. And he couldn't talk about this at the house, where the twins might overhear his worries. They don't need anything else burdening them.

 Ty takes Roxanne's hands, not caring about the dirt caked underneath her nails. He loves her, and that's why he's going to tell her his heart's desire.
"Roxanne, I took you out here for a reason. I want another baby Roxie, with you."

She starts to shake softly at his request, how could she raise a baby after what she did? "I-I dunno Ty. I don't feel like I'm a good enough mother to raise another child." A tear fell down her cheek, and Tyson wiped it away.
"Why do you feel that way Roxie? You're providing for the family, and you clearly love our babies." Tyson whispers softly, but it makes Roxanne cry even harder.

 "Ty, you ne-need to know something. I slapped Isa yesterday. I feel so bad, but I can't take it back. I hurt my baby." Tyson is shocked and furious.
"Wh-h-why? Why did you? You hit our baby?" Tyson is upset, and tears run down his face. He can't believe it.
"I was so upset, and I saw Ruby and she sounded just like her! It was so wrong! I'm so sorry Ty! I'm so damn sorry, I don't know how to say it to her."

 Tyson takes a deep breath, he knows that Ruby was a horrible bitch to Roxanne, but it doesn't excuse what she did.
"You know you did wrong here Roxie. I-I still think you're a wonderful mother. Do you think Ruby Broke would shed a tear over hitting you?" Roxanne shakes her head softly. "I want another baby, as long as you promise never to hit our children again." She nods ferociously, feeling so guilty over the situation.

"I will, I promise. But I can't have another baby Ty. I need to be taking care of the garden, and I'm not as young as I was with Isa and Irish. Maybe adoption is the answer?" Tyson looks pensive for a moment, before nodding softly.
"I think I got the perfect solution sweetheart, it'll be a surprise." Roxanne looks skeptical, but nods. She grabs his arm, and they meet, closer and closer until...

...They kiss. In the passion of the moment, all is forgiven.

"Mm, Tyson." So soft and sweet, his lips tingle as they meet
"Roxie" One word, yet so much passion and fire is behind it.
"I love you." His heart flutters, he just can't get enough of her.
"I love you too." He mumbles as they kiss. He only wishes that his plan could include her DNA. He sees her in the twins everyday, and he wants that experience again. But he knows that despite biological differences, Roxanne will love this child like her own. Despite her mistakes, he loves her, will love her forever, no matter what she does.

 Tylar Marlin is confused, freaked out, and tired. Mostly tired. She first gained awareness at the Science Facility, where they probed her endlessly looking for something called a "penis". After a while, they just shoved her at this cop dude, who happens to look a lot like her. Then they drove in the skull cop car and walked in this place. She thought the madness was over for a while, but then the cop dude stopped walking and stared waving his hands like an insane man.

She just isn't sure what's going on. Or whether she even wants to know what's going on. She would sneak away, but she isn't sure if there's even a bed in this strange place.

She thinks she hates the colour green now, there's so much of it in this hallway. Seriously, who decorated this place?
"HURRAY!" Tylar jumps backwards as the insane cop dude starts cheering endlessly. She wants to run away, but some freaky magic is compelling her to stay. Maybe the magic people want to scare her to death?

"Oh god, I think this is suppose to be my family!" Tylar glares at the man waving a freaky noisy thing around as he screams on the top of my lungs. "Did I do something in my past life to deserve to live in this...green infested den? Though I do kind of like the bathroom, rocks and sand stuff are cool." Tylar muses to herself.

 After a while longer of thinking over her situation, she shrugs. "Eh, I guess it's better then the Science Facility."

 Okay, that was before the insane cop dude erupted into glitter.

"Though the guy does look a bit scared, maybe he didn't expect the glitter?" She mutters softly, and shakes her head. "Why does he have glitter anyway? Am I hallucinating?"

 She reaches out and feels the tingly glittery sensation around her hand.
"Nope, this is just a crazy world I live in."

Irish walks in as Tyson declares he's now an adult. She's shocked, but not by the birthday. Or even that there's a girl here. No, it's who the girl looks like that freaks Irish out.

 "Um Dad, why is there a girl clone of you here?"

Chapter Forty-Three: Fight & Flight

Irish had a bad day at school today. Well, bad day would definitely be an understatement, more like a horrifically awful day. She forces herself not to cry, but it's hard to keep her teary gaze steady.

She knows she really shouldn't go on the computer, knowing what waits for her when she does, but she has to know. Why do they hate her so much? She sneers softly as she opens the homepage, an attempt at masking her pain.

Who would send this to her? Why? Did they think she wanted to know how much people hated her? Irish fights her tears as she reads the nasty messages on the computer screen.


KoldBloodKilla
I hate Irish Marlin

HottieSim1991
yeah, irish is a slut! i hate her!

Glitzrgal6
me too, she's a idiot! who fucking says their a virgin? such a lier!

KoldBloodKilla
And the bitch thinks she's PERFECT

Glitzrgal66
no wat i hear? she fucks all the guys in school

Hottiesim1991
even the teachers? sick1!!

KoldBloodKilla
No! What guy would touch her? She has to be a lesbian

Hottiesim1992
a lezbo, really? what if she tries to fuck me!

Glitzrgal66
ew, wat a frreak!

She slams the computer shut unable to read anymore of those nasty words. She had finally started making some friends in the school, and they betrayed her like that! Irish felt like she was the biggest fool in Brooklyn Heights. She trusted them with her secret, that she had never been kissed, let alone have sex with anybody. And they flaunted it like it didn't matter, like she didn't matter. A small tear dripped on the desk as Irish wondered if she could trust anybody ever again.

Sniffling, she buries herself in a school assignment. Maybe the pain will go away if she just didn't think about it for a little bit?
"Alright, I know that won't really work, but I just want to stop crying." Irish mutters to herself as she tries to focus on the blurry words in front of her.

Isadora has heard all the rumors of course, and has tried to dissipate them. She even beat up a few of the biggest blabbermouths, but  it didn't do a thing. She's Irish's sister, and defending the rumors only gave them more fuel and hurts her twin's reputation even more. She feels frustrated that none of the guys who the twits claimed Irish slept with spoke up, even her friend Niles can't speak up for fear of furthering his status as a social pariah. And he has green skin and purple hair.

When she gets home, she tries to read to distract herself from the sniffling coming from their bedroom. Isa isn't really good at comforting people. She tends to make them cry more. If only this book wasn't so much like an encyclopedia, maybe she could get the image of Irish crying out of her mind...

She slams the book down, frustrated at her inability to help her sister. Irish has been there for her when nobody else has, and now she's failing at helping her back. She decides to paint an meteor, imagining the rock and flames consuming those snooty bitches.

After cleaning up, Isadora was about to start her boring assignment again when a furious Roxanne came through the door.
"The principal called today. He said that you beat up two girls in class, and one of them had to go to the hospital. What do you have to say for yourself?" Isa's shoulders tense as she glares at her mother.

Isadora shrugged, not wanting Roxanne to know about her sister's bullying. She would only make it worse. Roxanne's green eyes glimmered with fury.
"A shrug? A fucking shrug? You could have been expelled from school, that one girl has 15 stitches! You'll have detention for the rest of the year, and if you do anything horrible like that again, you'll be kicked out! Do you even get what you've done?" Roxanne screamed.

Isadora tries to keep herself calm, but it's a struggle. Her face grows redder as her mother continues to yell at her.
"Nothing to say? Come on Isa, you can't be a dropout loser! You'll be nothing if you continue this way!"
"Nothing! I'm fucking trying to defend my sister and you say I'm a loser! Fuck you, you, you stupid bitch!" Isa bellowed, her heart beating furiously. She feels triumphant at the startled look on Roxanne's face. If only she didn't have to reveal Irish's secret to get an ounce of compassion to her side of the situation.

Compassion dies down to fury quickly as Roxanne's mind comprehends the last part of Isadora's words.
"I'm the bitch! I'm the one keeping food in your stomach! I'm the one who gives you a great place to live. You think a policeman salary would pay for a place like this? In Brooklyn Heights? You're the ungrateful little bitch here!" Isadora looks like she wants to pull out Roxanne's hair out, but she forces herself to stop that train of thought. Isa hates her, but she's her mother. Besides, Roxanne would probably beat the snot right out of her, with all that manual labour.
 

Still extremely upset, Isadora tries to calm things down the best she can. She forces herself to breath a few times, she doesn't want this to get any worse.
"So we're both bitches. I can live with that, I messed up today. I should have just pranked them or something instead of hurting them. I'm sorry Roxanne." Isa mutters, looking down in shame. Roxanne doesn't take the given reprieve however.
"I'm not a bitch!" Isa is frustrated, can't she see how she's hurt her and Irish? Can't she see her own faults and admit them?
"What bullshit! I said I did wrong, but you're not copping up to any of your mistakes!"

"I've made mistakes, but I never injured anybody to the point of hospitalization!" Roxanne sneers.
"I didn't mean to go that far! I apologized to the families already! I ADMITTED WHAT I DID WRONG! But you haven't apologized for anything you've done!" Isadora just wants to punch something, the frustration is building up inside her and she can't get anything through to her.
"The only thing I regret is being a part of this fucked up family!" Roxanne screams, her voice slightly hoarse.
"W-what?" Isa wants to cry, but the tears won't come. "You hate us? Why didn't you leave then, before we could remember you? There's no such thing as a perfect family, but we try our best. Unlike you." Isadora paces around furiously, unable to look at Roxanne's tearful face.

"You really think you deserved better, don't you?" Isadora asks desperately, both hurt and angry. "How dare you? We loved you, but you were never there. We needed you, but you were always in your bloody garden! You don't deserve my love! I hate you!" Roxanne's raises her hand, as if to slap her, then it falls back down.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean for that-" Isadora interrupts the pathetic attempt to apologize.
"You think that this is some game. That children smile all the time and play and laugh and never cry or get frustrated. Nathalie was more of a mom then you ever were! She cared!" Tears steam down Isadora's cheeks, the pain she's been denying for several days is exploding right in front of her.
"I love you -" Isadora once again interrupts her mother, she's not stopping now. Emotions she didn't even know she felt are spewing from her mouth.

"Don't start! You don't love us! You didn't want to know what was happening with us, you just wanted to hide. Did you ever talk to me or Irish about Ned's death? Nathalie's? No! Because you're too damn self absorbed! You care about those damn plants more then you ever cared about us! You're a lousy mother!" Roxanne's eyes take an inhumane glint to them. Before Roxie can think things through clearly, before she can hear the pain in her daughter's words...

A painful smack. A cry of pain.

Isadora falls back from the force of the impact. Shocked. Her mother just slapped her. She put her hands on her.

 

Breathing heavily. She just did that. She put that bitch in her place. No. She lashed out. Her daughter, her baby. Isa's not a bitch. She's her daughter. She did this. She hurt her. She gasps as the realization hits her.

Tears run down her face as she looks at her daughter's young, vulnerable face. What kind of monster is she?

Chapter Forty-Two: Visionary

Irish was devastated. Her grandmother was gone, and nobody would tell her how she died! Did they think she was stupid? That saying "she's in a better place" would placate her? Her face tear-stained, Irish falls into a fitful sleep.
She finds herself in a blurry dream world, Nathalie walking towards her from the kitchen. "Is this real?" Irish wonders blearily, not sure if she really cares. Her grandmother is here. Not gone, not dead. Right here, those familiar blue eyes looking sadly at her.

"Gamma?" Irish asks childishly, still shocked. She stares down at the chess pieces in front of her, trying to think of what to say. Her mind is fuzzy, like she's only half here.
"Irish, sweetheart." Nathalie whispers, and Irish strains to hear her. "Let's play chess, it'll be easier to talk if our spirits are closer together." Irish nods as she pulls up a chair and makes the first move.

"I'm surprised you're not alarmed at my presence. You know this isn't just a regular dream, right?" Nathalie asks softly. Irish nods with a small smirk.
"I don't tend to dream much at night, let alone have lucid dreams. So, yeah, I suspected it was a bit of paranormal working here. But I wanted to see you again, so why would I complain?" Irish has to laugh at her grandmother's flabbergasted expression. "Hey, I may not be a genius, but I'm pretty damn logically."
"Language Irish!" Nathalie tries to scold, but only starts laughing with Irish.

The laughter dies down as Irish realizes this will be the last time she'll see Nathalie until she passes on. "It's going to weird without you here." Irish mumbles as she makes her move. "Ty's going to bury himself in police work to forget about you, and Roxanne's just never around. Seriously, she must think plants are more important then her children. Sometimes I hate her!" Nathalie shakes her head softly, looking slightly disappointed.
"You don't hate her, you're just hurt. But Irish, she's your mother. Even if she's not perfect you need to respect her. I've made many mistakes in my life, and I didn't even realize many of them until I passed on. She's human too." Irish shrugs softly, but it's evident that she understands what Nathalie is saying. Trying to change the subject, she asks the one question that has been itching at her ever since this dream...vision...whatever it is started.

"Why did you visit me Gramma? I'm fine, I'm sure Dad or Isa would need to see you more." Irish asks softly.
"You're not fine sweetheart, you miss Ned and I very much. More then you would like the rest of the family to know. You never did quite get over Ned's death, did you? Seeing him in his ghost form helped, but you were always Gampa's girl." A soft tear falls down Irish's cheek, and Nathalie reaches over to brush it away.
"And really Irish, you're the most open to this kind of vision. Even though I was a ghost hunter, Tyson really never believed my stories. I think he thought they were tall tales, or exaggerations. He's a smart man, my Ty-Ty, but doesn't quite get that logic and creativity aren't that different. I can't reach him, as he wouldn't believe this to be more then a dream."
"Gramma-" Nathalie shushes her softly, giving Irish a knowing smile.
"I'm getting to Isadora, you silly girl. Isa is more open then Ty, but she's not as close to me as we were. She's been an independent soul since she was born, perhaps you are the only one she'll ever be close too. Isadora is much like your Uncle Thorne in that way, without the insanity. I did give her a gift however, but it'll be a while until it appears. Until then, you'll have to be there for her, and the rest of the family." She pauses, and the vision grows blurrier. I'm sorry sweetheart, it's morning now. I wish I didn't have to leave, but it's time now. I love you Irish." With that sudden farewell, Irish wakes up to bright sunshine. She buries her head into the pillow and starts to cry, finally letting herself feel the grief that she never truly dealt with.

Isadora hasn't spoken for a few days now. Sure, she's said all the bullshit you're supposed to say when you talk to people, but she hasn't said anything she's actually meant. She doesn't want to talk about it, she doesn't give a damn what they think she should be feeling. Isa thinks that Irish understands, at least a little more then everybody else. She's just there, not pushing her or forcing her to make up some fucked up lie about how she's feeling like she's going to crumble any moment. She's just...cold. Numb. She's not feeling like she's going to burst into tears over this, she feels oddly disjointed from the whole thing. The only thing she can do is paint.

She wanted to make a skeletal angel, as haunted and lost as she feels right now. But for Irish's sake, she'll make a nice lighthouse with a nice island. But she'll make the water stormy and murky, a small speck of the turmoil that she's hidden away within herself.

Irish is struggling with her homework, and it's pissing her off. Well, it's not really the homework's fault. She's just so worried about her family, they all seem silent and lost within themselves. Isadora won't talk, Roxanne won't sleep, and Tyson is so...freaking cheerful! But his eyes completely broadcast how sad he felt about Nathalie's death. She knows that Tyson was always much closer to Nathalie then he was to Ned. So when Tyson comes over to help with her homework, she can't make herself decline, despite the fact she knows that her homework will remain woefully incomplete.

Nathalie was always there for him when Ned was off fishing, and they shared a passion for logic. It makes sense that Tyson would grieve for her harder. But to not let himself grieve at all terrifies Irish. She's knows that it'll explode in his face, like a poorly made chemistry concoction. She's done that before with Ned's death, spending the first night forcing the tears to go away. It seemed to work until she screamed and yelled at Nathalie in the morning, the one who was suffering the most. Hopefully Dad realized that before he did the same to her, or Isa or Roxanne.

"So...you're struggling with this question right here. That's easy!" Irish rolls her eyes, advanced functions is not THAT easy!
"For the genius who's already done this course, maybe, but not for me! Ugh, I HATE MATH!" Tyson gives her a fatherly pat on the back, perhaps trying to comfort her. She isn't really sure.
"Hm, I've never had that problem, being the genius boy and all." Irish gives a frustrated glare and he stops with that line of thinking. "I was never one for English though, too many rules that you had to learn. Then you had to break them sometimes, and poetry...don't get me started on poetry! I get your pain sweetheart." He pauses for a moment, and Irish wonders if that had a double meaning.
"While I love hearing about your English agony, I want to get to the bottom of this stupid math question!" Irish grumbles as Tyson starts laughing at her. In his fit of laughter, he points out a small section towards the top of her equations.
"It's just a typo honey, you have everything else right. You're smarter then you think!" Irish lightly swats him in the head, still annoyed but feeling much better about the equation. Now if only it was something as inconsequential as a typo that was hurting her family...

Tyson starts to stand up, a lingering sadness in his eyes despite laughing just moments ago. "You come to me if you have any more questions, alright?" Tyson asks, and Irish knows that this is more then homework.
"I will Dad, I love you." Irish can feel, rather then see, Tyson's grief. His familiar grin is there, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes anymore.
"I love you too sweetheart." He kisses her on the cheek, his five o'clock shadow bristling against her soft skin. Irish touches her cheek after he leaves, her heart aching in grief for her family. She hates to see them hurting, but she hopes it's the kind of pain that makes them stronger in the end.