When her eyes opened as her room lit with sunlight, she found herself still seated against the door. Her limbs felt too heavy to move, but if she did not get up, she feared her mother would be yelled at again.

Slowly, she slid to her closet, got the only other dress she owned, and slipped into it. She took the sheets from her bed and tossed them in a bin with her favorite dress.

She stepped into the hall and stacked the baskets, attempting to hold both. There is little weight, but she still struggles to carry them outside.

The sun warms the sand beneath her toes, it has always felt nice as it hits against her skin. The glimmer of the light's reflection on the waves is a nice touch to the morning.

With a small yawn that flashes her elongated canines, she runs a bucket of water and grabs the tools she needs. Slowly, she starts washing clothes. This was something her mother usually did, but her father was right. She needs to step out a bit. This shell she can’t seem to escape may need to be forcibly torn open.

Selene sighs as she struggles to hang the clothes. It’s looking as if it will be a nice day, so hanging things out shouldn’t be an issue.

She slips back inside to see her mother making breakfast and her father lounging in the living room reading the papers. Perhaps she should start there. If she teaches herself to read, then maybe she can understand more of their words.

That’s the true reason it took so long for her to talk, why she still doesn’t talk much. She’s afraid she misunderstands a word and that she’ll use it in the wrong context. Here and there she still fails to understand things, though, after five years of listening and watching, she’s begun to grasp their human dialect.

“And where have you been this early in the morning?” Jack Raises a brow, noticing Selene’s entry.

Selene looked from the floor, trying to find the words in her head. She felt her heart race a bit as she opened and closed her mouth.

“Well spit it out.” Impatience dawns on his face as his eyes lift from the paper.

The words of her father had her mother turning from the stove to look at her husband, narrowing her eyes, ready to tell him off for cornering Selene.

“I was-” There is a pause as she forms her sentence, “washing the laundry, Dad.” She speaks hushed, and her syllables hit with a thick slab of accent she’d tried to push down.

When there is no response, she looks around to see if she’d made a mistake, but instead, there is nothing but a proud gleam in her mother's eyes.

“Thank you for doing that for me this morning.” Her mother says softly.

“Oh, don’t praise her for something like that! That’s a task any young girl should be able to do. She should be cooking by now, not doing such minor things.” Jack huffs slamming the paper on the table.

“Can’t you be proud of her? Even if it’s a little? I haven’t heard her speak without missing the between words before! That was a complete response to your question, and you still find the need to criticize her?” Beth narrows her eyes at her husband.

Selene stares, watching the two of them begin to argue again. It doesn't last long as her father merely huffs and storms off to his room.

“Didn’t… I didn’t mean to make him upset again.” Sel mutters to her mother as she turns to face the water.

Turning off the stove as she finishes breakfast, only needing to let it cool, Beth approaches her daughter. She holds her close, tucking the child's head to her chest and putting her hand on Selene’s head as she shushes her. “Don’t mind your father Selene. He’s just been having some troubles with work.”

“I tried to make better.” Selene shakes her head. That didn’t sound right, it didn’t sound like it had in her head. “I am trying to make talk better.” Still not right.

Her mother chuckles softly as she pulls away from the embrace and ushers her daughter to sit on the sofa. “I think you’re trying to say, I am trying to make my speech better, or is it, I am trying to make having conversations better.”

Selene smiles happy that her mother is never ashamed of her words. She holds her hand up to signal that it was the first option.

Her mother thinks for a moment. In her five years of raising this child, she has never considered she may have a different dialect until now. “Selene dearest, do you not speak our language?”

The girl fiddles with her skirt as if ashamed of herself. “Do not.”

Beth nods as she chuckles slightly. “Silly me, I don’t know how I didn’t think of this before. Would it help if I tried to teach you English instead of you trying to learn by ear?” She wonders if she needs to simplify her words.

However, Selene seems to understand and responds simply, but it’s enough. “Thank you.”

Beth only hums as she pats her child's hair.

The moment of connection and peace is interrupted as Jack comes back. “What are you doing? I walk out for a moment and come to see you not working? I have to leave for work, breakfast better be done.”

“Breakfast is just cooling. Ah, did you know that Selene had trouble talking to us because she didn’t know what we were saying? That means in five years, she’s taught herself how to communicate in a foreign language well enough to understand what’s being said, just not talk herself just yet!” Beth seems happy to have learned this as if she can help her child in a better way than praying that she opens up.

Mark walks over to the pot of porridge and slops himself a bowl, then sits himself at the head of the table. “Do you want me to tell you, good job? Shouldn’t you have figured that out ages ago? You’re the mother, isn’t this what you're supposed to do? I don’t hope you expect me to find her a teacher. It would be hard to keep the Fae thing to ourselves, and I don’t have the money for it.”

“I wasn’t insinuating that, Mark. I thought the information may be something you’d like to know, so that you can stop being so overly cruel to our child.” Beth sighs defeat in her eyes.

There was no response as Beth spooned Selene a bowl and then a bowl for herself. They both took their seats and ate in silence.

When the meal closed, Selene was quick to grab dishes and start to help wash them. It wasn’t often that she helped around, but she tried to do as much as she could. She’s aware of how to do them, but what if she makes a mistake?

With the guidance of her mother, she makes none. Each plate is left clean and dry, and stacked back in the cabinets. She finds herself smiling in her silence.

She follows her mother all day long and helps her with whatever she can, which is anything her mother allows her hands to help.

With her father off to work and chores done twice as fast as usual, there is spare time for Selene to rest whilst her mother cooks.

Beth looks at her daughter watching her cook. She knows the child wishes to aid, but she’s worried she’ll harm herself. “Why don’t you grab the eggs from the fridge and crack them into a bowl, then whisk them till smooth?”

Selene smiles, opening the fridge with a careful touch. It’s the only appliance in the home that runs on the magic of Fae. She’s always found that part of life to be confusing. People stare with disdain towards those like her, yet use their creations.

Magic has several categories, and all fae place themselves differently, since a fae typically only fits into one area. There are those who can dance with elements, others who can alter the forms of things, those who can transport themselves to places, and those who have nothing or haven’t tapped into their abilities yet.

With careful hands, Selene takes the carton and places it on the counter.

“How many?” Selenetta asks with caution of her tongue.

“Three should be fine.” Her mother responds happily.

Selene takes three eggs out and walks the carton back to the fridge as carefully as she can. She turns back to what she was doing and cracks each egg, careful not to get any shell into the bowl. She takes the whisk and with her soft touch, she starts to whisk.

She begins humming to herself as she whisks, something she’s heard her mother do, but the hum is her own.

Her humming is not something she learned, but rather a piece of the past she’s managed to cling to. Eventually, there’s a feeling of it being almost natural. She feels like she’s done it before. The feeling isn’t something she likes, so she sets the bowl and whisks down, staring at her hands for a moment.

“Are you alright, Selenetta?” Beth turns away from where she’s got chicken on the stove to stare at her daughter.

“Yes, odd…” she’s trying to find the word for it. “Uh, like… remember, but not.”

“Familiar. We would say that something feels familiar, or if it’s a sense of reminding you of being a small child, then nostalgic. For you, I'd say you’re looking to say familiar.” Beth pauses for a moment, considering her words carefully. “Perhaps you baked as a child?”

Selene shrugs, she wouldn't know. She can't recall anything but blurred faces. She picks the bowl up and begins to whisk again until it becomes smooth and silky to the eye. “More?”

“There should be breadcrumbs that I dried out last night in the oven in a sealed container. Try the pantry?” Beth smiles.

Selene nods, watching her mother flip the chicken on the stove. This feels nice.

After a moment of looking through the pantry and a few cabinets where they store food, Selene comes across the box of breadcrumbs and sets it on the counter by the eggs, just as her mother sets a piece of chicken on the counter.

With a smile, Beth takes a semi-cooked piece of chicken and demonstrates what she wants Selene to do with it. “Dip into the egg first, make sure it’s soaked, then roll it in the breadcrumbs.”

Selene nodded, taking a piece of the chicken and copying her mother until there was no more to coat. To finish, her mother set them into the oven to finish cooking them all the way.

Seeing dinner was mostly done, Selene smiled, pointing to her room.

“Going to the balcony to watch the water again, are you?” Beth smiled and gave her daughter a few pats on her head, telling her to go ahead.

With a grateful smile, Selene skipped off to her room, leaving the bedroom door open. She opened the glass doors, stepping through. Closing them behind her, she made sure they closed tightly, so the house did not get cold like it was outside. She hopped onto the railing with a hum. She swung her legs over the edge, holding on as she kicked them a little. She’s done this every day since she’d started to explore the home.

Selene stares out at the ocean. She watches the sun dip down beyond the horizon. The gold and oranges that are cast over the water make it appear like a sea made of gold.

There are fairy tales about such things, so it’s almost sweet to imagine. She watches the sky become enveloped in darkness, and the stars stand out against the rich deep blue of the sky. She stares at the full moon and its reflection on the water.

It’s not a large jump from the balcony down to the sand below. Looking back to the window, she debates it for a moment. She knows by this time her fathers returned. Walking out into the living room so early into the night would likely cause some sort of argument centered around her. The water is probably freezing anyway.

With a small sigh, she hums to herself, closing her eyes. She lets the breeze and the peace of the night calm her. The sounds of waves crashing against the water tie her to her mind. She thinks of sitting in a garden by a pond. She pictures turtles and fish swimming as she dips her foot into the water, basking in the light of the moon.

She pictures real peace, where there isn’t anybody looking down on others for their lineage. She pictures a world full of magic and life. She finds herself engrossed in this daydream, smiling at the mere image she formed in her head.

The sights she imagines slip away with terror.

She jolts, opening her eyes to stare into the sky.

It had been a moment, but the screams always ruin the peace she finds for herself.

Selene can hardly recall the nightmares she’d suffered from in her first year here. However, the sounds of screaming never manage to slip away from her.

“Selene dinner is ready.” Her mother announces as she lightly taps on the door.

Turning to see her mother, she smiles sliding away from the railing.

“I’ve never asked, but why do you like that spot so much?” Beth usually doesn’t go into personal words like this. She doesn’t often ask questions that require a response to be detailed.

“It’s pretty? I feel peace and comfort. The sound of the waves and the… outside is nice.” It’s a complete response. Though there are so many unheard words that could replace the words she had chosen, words that wouldn’t exist in the language she knows by heart. She knows there are better words, but she’s content with her complete sentence.

“Suppose it is pretty. Fae do tend to see the beauty and find magical moments in things that seem normal to most.”

Selene smiles, nodding her head. Part of that is their better sense of sight and all other senses.

She walks with her mother and takes a seat at the table, staring at her father.

“How was your day?” Selene starts the conversation, trying to keep another night of arguments from occurring. Last night had been the worst that she’d heard them argue.

“She’s learned manners I see. It was a rather productive day.” He snidely remarks to no one in particular while he begins to cut into his dinner, watching the two women in front of him. Selene watches him take a bite and smiles a bit.

“Is dinner good? I helped a little to cook it.” Selene brings the conversation back to life, smiling at her father.

“Make it, you’d want to say make it there.” Her mother helpfully suggests.

Selene nods, and smiles at her mother in appreciation, keeping that in mind.

“Finally getting some sense into her?” He asks, nodding his head towards Beth.

“Really? Not a thank you or a word uttered outside of criticism?” Beth huffs, narrowing her eyes towards her husband.

Selene shakes her head, glancing at her mother, pleading with her not to fight. “It’s okay. He’s right. I should be, uh, not responsible uh...” She taps her head a bit trying to find the word.

“Competent. She’s looking for competent. She can hardly talk right, and you want me to praise her for minor things?” Mark says with a deep hatred for the girl.

Selene keeps her eyes down to her plate, and when Beth doesn’t respond to defend her, she is relieved. A night where she is not the cause of their fighting would be nice.

At the end of the meal, she cleans the dishes and heads straight back to her room. She lays on her bed, staring outside at the stars.

What would it be like to be a star? To have no pain and simply shine brightly? No worries of human conversation, just sitting up in the sky… watching all those who wander the night.