Melissa Rose's background story, she is featured in the Dark Music Trilogy.
Melissa’s life was not an easy one, but she always had those little moments that brightened her life. One was when she was just twelve. She didn’t know how significant that moment was, until her life was already long over.
The day was warm, but overcast as grey clouds moved in over head. But Melissa didn’t care; she was running around the village picking flowers from every corner she found them. She was delicately stepping through the dreary village, her bright dress contrasting the grey cobbled streets and dark, gloomy houses. She skipped happily, singing sweetly despite the complaints of the villagers, “It’s too early!” They would cry, just to be ignored by the ecstatic kid. Unlike her sisters, she was never a mature kid. Life for her was too short.
But her skipping was cut short as she got distracted by a rather good-looking climbing tree and her feet led her straight into a tall stranger with blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes. The shock caught her and she tumbled back, falling onto the cobbles and dropping all the flowers in her hand. “Oh, I’m so sorry.” She moaned, trying not to cry as she found her knees had been grazed and little red marks had begun to appear, making her legs sting.
The man looked taken aback and hesitantly offered to help her up, to which she obliged, taking his hand she looked down, sniffing at her bright red knees. She looked back up at him again and searched her mind for all the rules of etiquette she was forced to remember, “Are you okay, sir?”
“Yeah, I'm fine," he muttered in an accent more common than the ground they stood on.
"Good, I shouldn't be down here in the village anyway, if father found out I had..." she looked down at her knees and back up, "ruined my dress, he'd be furious." She shook her head, she knew her father wouldn’t care that her knees were bloodied and scratched. "Once again, I am so sorry sir!"
"Its fine, kid, what're you doin' down here anyways?"
"I love the village! Better than being at those posh parties, I can tell you that." She nodded, in a matter-of-fact tone.
He looked around, a look of disbelief on his face, "sure, if ya say so."
"Try being locked up in my house and being told to 'straighten your dress,' or, 'remember your manners, don't pull that face Melissa! Wrong Fork Melissa!'" She laughed, her tone going strict and her brow furrowing as she mocked her parents. "It get's rather tiresome."
"Sure, but I'd rather have nice stuff than live down here in this shit hole."
"Sir!" She exclaimed, shaking her head in disbelief.
Her eyes opened a little wider, "Such profanities, Sir!” She took a deep breath, calming down. “Here." She bent down to pick up one of the bluebells she had gathered a moment ago. "Brighten up." Just as she said the words, rain that had threatened to appear finally began to the fall. "Even if the weather doesn't seem to agree," she laughed.
He took it and looked at it incredulously. "Rich kid's full of surprises, eh?"
"What's that, Sir?" She asked, seemingly not caring as the rain soaked her hair,
"What's what, kid?" She smiled; never had she’d been called ‘kid’ before.
"Being nice to the pauper boy from the village," he mumbled, giving her an, ‘are you that stupid?’ look.
"Everyone is equal; money matters not. If only everyone saw it that way. Forgive me for being rude, what is your name?"
"Money puts food on the table, of course it matters," he sighed, "I'm Lazarus."
"Melissa, pleasure," she grinned, holding out her hand for him to shake. He looked at it dubiously for a moment, before wiping his hand on his trousers and shaking it. She pushed her wet hair from her face, looking up at him. "I should really be going or father'll beat me again." She sighed, looking to the floor.
"Kick 'im in the balls and hide from him for the night. It works with my dad, anyways." Her eyes would have widened if it hadn’t been for the fact she had quite gotten used to his behaviour.
"My father is a lord sir! He would have all the servants, my sisters, everyone looking for me!" She giggled, "Violence doesn't solve everything."
"Eh, I guess you're lucky you have someone that cares. My dad just tells my mum and sis to stay in the bedroom while he drinks himself stupid," he shrugged.
"They'd be looking for me to beat me again," she coughed, trying to hide her horror in her voice from the thought. "My sisters are brutes."
"Oh well... surely you'll get married off soon enough and then you won't have to worry about them anymore."
"I hope not! Have you seen some of these pompous buffoons? I don't want to get married to any of them if I can help it." She paused, remembering how love counts for nothing. "Which of course, I can't."
He shrugged, "well good luck to ya then. I better be goin', I'm s'posed to be practicing piano."
"You're that Lazarus? We're going to see you tonight!"
"That Lazarus?" Although, thinking back, she wasn’t sure how many Lazarus’ she would ever know.
"Yes, my sisters love you. I however am honoured. You're gifted."
"Oh... um, thanks," he smiled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.
Melissa heard a firm voice from atop the hill above the village call her name, 'Melissa Rose!' and her face turned pale. "I'll... see you...tonight." She stuttered, her smile turning blank as she tried not to cry again.
He nodded. "See ya," he muttered, walking back through the village. She nodded back and swallowed, trailing back to the road that led up the hill to her house. A grave look on her face as she saw her father’s scowl. She gulped again. “Shit.”