Revenge is Sweet - Chapter 1

When Dallas Fletcher begins to envisage past dreams that have haunted her for the previous years, she panics and returns to a family that she had been with before. She had left the clan for a reason, but when she is emotionally devastated and alone, she joins them. Will they come to her aid? And now that she is finally old enough to understand, how will she react to the resurfacing secrets of her real family and her true identity?
She was there.

She was right in front of her...

The woman donned a white button-down shirt and a long luminescent yellow skirt. She was sitting on a small partition cross-legged. A deep mysterious aura seemed to surround her whereabouts as she smirked at Dallas.

Her gamine-like figure and sylphlike features were too deceivable. Dallas felt much lured by her. She felt as though the woman was positioning her in an unbreakable trance.

Dallas stepped back, and swallowed a mouthful of air. Somewhere deep down in her heart, a part whispered cynically to her, "She's not going to do anything... go near her."

But, as thoughtless as this may have sounded, Dallas stepped forward: a much longer step that she had taken earlier.

She was now able of setting eyes on the woman's face. A defined jawline, deep hazel eyes, and a set of full cherry pouted lips, clearly meant she was extremely attractive. Her beautifully flowing coffee hair accentuated her elegance. However, something about the glow around her made Dallas uneasy. She shifted her feet into a more comfortable position, and stared at the woman. How could someone so stunning feel so vindictive?

For some reason, Dallas had a strong feeling of recognition.

She tried to rummage through her brain to identify this enigmatic woman. But, the more she thought about it, the more powerless she felt.

These thoughts were disrupted by the woman. She lifted her thread-like finger and gestured for Dallas to come closer. There was no response from Dallas.

Her flawless eyebrows rose and she whispered, "Come here, Dallas."

Dallas gasped silently, and shook her head, slowly.

Her accent was somewhat Anglo-Saxon and her words seemed to embrace the natural velvetiness of her voice. Dallas could have sworn that she had seen those words drifting towards her.

"Don't be afraid, Dallas." She rose from the partition and moved with poise, with the grace of a prima ballerina. Her neon skirt swayed from side to side tracing the movement made by her hips. Dallas felt a bead of sweat trickling down her temple to her neck. She wiped it using her sleeve and staggered backwards.

The woman smiled, mercilessly, and picked up pace with every move she made.

"Dallas," she called out, trying to grab her hand, "you'll be safe with me..."

"No!" Dallas screamed and began running away from her.

The woman merely laughed, and Dallas winced, at the sound of the echoes her laughter had made. "You can run, Dallas. But, you can never hide," she began to say repeatedly.

Now, those words began to reverberate in her head. "You can run, Dallas, but you can't hide."

Dallas began to feel lightheaded. First, the ceiling seemed to be falling down on her and she collapsed on the floor. "Don't hurt me! Don't hurt me!" Was the only thing she managed to choke out before she passed out.

The whole world was a void she could never escape.


"Dallas! Dallas! Wake up, darling," Jared Lachlan cried out to her.

He shook her hard, and motioned to his wife to get him a glass of water.

Dallas opened her eyes, as they met a pair of sea blue ones. She knew who it was: one of her foster parents, Jared Lachlan, a high school History teacher in Olive Grove, a small town in the middle of nowhere in somewhere.

Another set of green ones locked into her own. Her foster mother, Susan Lachlan, another high school teacher who taught Literature.

One thing Dallas knew was that Jared and Susan didn't even look like her - Jared and Susan had blonde hair, while she had deep chocolate hair; they had blue and green eyes, while she had brown eyes - so strangers passing by could easily make out that they were her foster parents, only. This saddened her.

Dallas laid in Jared's arms for a nice five minutes and then struggled to stand up. "Sweetie, no, hold on," he retorted, gently lifting her up as she clung on to the peaked lapels of his suit. She wanted to ask him where he was off to. But, all she managed to choke out were puffs of hot air.

After a while, Dallas found herself in the heat of her quilt. She found Jared at the foot of her bed, tenderly rubbing her feet. "W-W-where are you going?" She stammered to ask him.

He arose and his silhouette towered above Dallas' petite figure.

"Dad, where're you going?" She repeated.

He cleared his throat and replied, his scarf muffling most of the noise, "We're going for dinner to the Crompton's place."

Dallas shrugged as Susan came into view at the doorway. "Is Mom going too?"

"Yes, darling. We'll be back in about an hour or so." He turned around to walked over to Susan, but halted and approached Dallas. "Oliver will be here in a few minutes, it'll be okay." He patted her forehead as she closed her eyes.

She opened them when the massaging stopped.

They were gone.


Jared and Susan picked up their coats and opened the front door.

"Are you sure she's going to be okay?" Susan asked Jared, bending her head down.

Jared gently lifted her chin and gave a small peck on the lips. Tracing the curve of her cheeks, he replied, "She's going to be fine." That did it to assure Susan; she was convinced and they stepped out of the house.


A small snap was heard from the bushes near the Lachlans' two-story house.

Susan turned around, but was interrupted by Jared's embraces. 'Foolish couple', a voice behind the bushes thought.

It was a man. The man emerged from behind the bushes, and removed his tinted shades. His piercing black eyes came into view and he put his glasses back on, when he heard footsteps on the concrete pavement.

That was a young boy. A young boy probably nineteen or twenty, he considered. He had side swept dirty blonde hair and attractive facial features. That was probably Oliver; he recollected the information he had. Parker had sent him here for an important job and he had to do it.

The boy stepped on the welcome mat, rubbed his feet and knocked on the door.

A few knocks and nobody opened it.

Somebody's fast asleep, thought the man, a smile forming at the ends of his lips.

A young girl with messiest hair opened the door and pulled him inside.

He beamed at the sight of the girl. "She looks just like her," he said, with a hint of reminiscence. The man slowly stood up and moved to the gray minivan nearby. He opened the door and stepped inside it. He removed his shades, placing them on the seat next to him. He looked at the small TV near the front of the dashboard and grinned.

He pressed a button and a crackle was heard.

The channel was altered and a room was now visible. It was the girl's room. "So, this is my Jeanette's room," he remarked, snapping his fingers.

He leaned against his seat and placed his legs on the steering wheel. He picked up a flavored slushy that was frozen and began to slurp from the straw.

He looked at the TV and back at the slushy.

Now all he had to do was wait.


Author's Note

This is my first story in iBuzzle. So please take a chance, read it, and comment on the story and my writing. Constructive criticism is always welcome.
Okay, be honest: Do you think I should continue?
Not at all.
Published: 8/22/2012
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