The life of Mr. and Mrs. Wardsworth, of number eight Primrose Drive, located in the deep suburbs of Centralia seemed orderly and mundane to an outside observer. They had an immaculate, average, two story, beige house, an immaculate, average garden with a square wooden shed with two lawn gnomes, and an immaculate front yard with green, well-watered grass constantly kept below three point five inches as was prescribed by the Community Property & Neighbourhood Standards Index.

The Wardsworths were the perfectly average, perfectly ordinary family of mundane suburbia as they often claimed to be. Yet, there was something non-standard in their family. An unacceptable deviation that kept showing its ugly head. Something that the Wardsworths hopelessly tried to contain, control and fix for an unreasonably long time. Today the deviation expressed itself by the fact that Mr. Wardsworth’s favorite tool shed was on fire, smoke billowing from its innards. The deviation’s name was Cassie.

It was no secret to the neighborhood that Mr. Wardsworth had a daughter, the horrid, stubborn, disobedient menace that she was. Mr. Wardsworth’s face burned with embarrassment as he finished putting out the flames with a fire extinguisher that he kept inside the shed for this exact reason.

“Insolent girl. Why can’t you just be normal?” Mr. Wardsworth hissed, punctuating every word as he dragged a skinny girl by the arm towards the house, his fingers gripping into hers far harder than was necessary. His other arm held the now halfway empty fire extinguisher.

"I'd love to be normal, but alas my situation is suboptimal. Until I am granted better lodgings, things will unfortunately spontaneously combust." Cassie replied, resisting being dragged.

The left lawn gnome ignited.

"Youuu!" Mr. Wardsworth slammed the girl into the ground and rushed to save his gnome. She had already destroyed gnome number 3 yesterday. This was the final straw. He was running out of lawn gnomes.

He returned, just as Cassie was attempting to climb over a fence to escape. He pulled her down with a growl and dragged her into the house.

Once inside the house, out of sight of potential, nosey neighbors, Mr. Wardsworth grabbed the girl by her hair making her yelp.

“Not on the hardwood, dear. I just finished washing it!” Mrs. Wardsworth commented absently.

“Right, you are.” Mr. Wardsworth lifted Cassie by the hair, forcefully ferrying the screeching girl into the kitchen. Once in the kitchen, he flung her against the sink counter. Cassie caught the counter with her hands just as the rest of her body smashed into it, softening the impact.

“Do you think sheds grow on trees or something?! You won’t be getting off so easy this time, girl!” Mr. Wardsworth swung the empty fire extinguisher at the back of her head, and the blunt impact was followed by the sound of metal against bone.

Cassie curled on the floor in pain. Like usual, her mind had collapsed into itself, seeking shelter, seeking an escape from the injury. She cried and whimpered, trembling uncontrollably. Her shaking fingers, covered in blood, opened and closed, scribbling numbers into the floor on their own accord, as she wished for the pain to end.

"Did she fall down ...again? So clumsy." Mrs. Wardsworth inquired with an overly polite tone.

"Afraid so." Mr. Wardsworth loomed over Cassie, evaluating whether he should hit her again.

"Disobey me again, and there'll be more from where that came from!" Mr. Wardsworth leaned in and hissed at the girl weeping beneath him.

“Now, don’t be spreading that blood around!” He noticed her scribbling hand and stepped on her fingers with a crunch. She only grunted, despite the unbelievable agony she had to be in, and he shook his head. “Why can’t you be normal!? The only thing your mother and I ever wanted was to have a normal life! How can you be so selfish?”

Cassie panted hard as he pulled his shoe away, shaking the blood off it with a lip curled in disgust. “For Pete’s sake, get a grip. The least you could do to repay us for everything we’ve done for you is to be quiet, got it!?”

Cassie refused to be quiet. She opened her mouth and emitted an ear-piercing shriek. The square glasses of Mr. Wardsworth rattled in their frames ever so slightly at this.

“Be silent, girl!” His firm, muscular hand, covered in orange curly hair, wrapped around her mouth. Cassie refused to submit, biting into the hand with the entire strength of her jaw. Mr. Wardsworth hissed, pulling his hand away. Cassie tried to scream even louder. Someone had to hear her. Someone had to help her. The fire extinguisher swung once again. Sparks ignited in her eyes. She collapsed backward onto the floor, consciousness winking in and out. The hand of her tormentor wrapped around her hair, pulling her across the kitchen floor.

“She bit me! Can you believe it?! She bloody bit me!” He hissed through his orange beard.

Cassie tried to resist, tried to fight through the delirium of the concussion, but there was nothing she could do. Mr. Wardsworth was three times bigger than her and at least four times stronger. Her body banged against the dusty, concrete stairwell as he snapped open the door and dragged her into the basement.

“If you’re going to behave like this, you’ll stay in your room till tomorrow! No dinner!” He barked, throwing open another door and heaving Cassie into the cold, concrete storage room next to the furnace. Cassie tried to rise but slipped, and the metal door clanged shut. Cassie recognized the sound of a metal bolt lock being closed. She banged against the metal door, just as she had before, but it was hopeless. Mr. Wardsworth’s footsteps faded out. The storage room next to the furnace was deep underground, beneath the kitchen floor crawl space.

The furnace began to loudly whoosh, drowning out her angry shouting and banging. A small incandescent light bulb swung back and forth ever so slightly above Cassie, flickering in and out. After a long while of yelling and banging, Cassie retreated away from the door towards her bed, a raggedy, twin mattress. Its surface was stained brown. She slid into its cold, dusty, moldy embrace. The perpetual, angry howl of the furnace was omnipresent here, disrupting her focus.

Silver spider webs flickered at the ceiling, reflecting the light of the swinging light bulb. Cassie wept, curling up into a ball. Her head pulsated with pain. She brushed her fingers against her still bleeding head, writing out numbers into the cold, concrete floor. Numbers upon layers of numbers written in blood were covering the dirty concrete floor, walls, and ceiling of her “bedroom,” intertwined with her bloody handprints.

The light bulb overhead winked out, bathing everything in darkness, hiding the girl and her nightmarish room. Eventually, her consciousness faded into the pain-dulling embrace of sleep.

. . .

Sand beneath her feet.

Ocean. An endless ocean was in front of her, a field of impossibly brilliant stars above it. Cassie looked at the ocean. The water changed colors as the stars overhead twinkled, shifted as if they were alive. And indeed they were, as one of the stars descended, forming into a flying, massive, glowing jellyfish. The jellyfish floated across the sky, above the ocean in perfect silence, twinkling in arrays of constantly shifting colors. There was no noise in this dream, only endless myriads of strange, fractal jellyfish gently gliding across the sky, vibrating with colors she could not name. It was enchanting and strange.

The flock of jellyfish passed.

There was a girl standing there, drawing numbers in the sand with a stick. It was her… but looking far more determined, wearing a dirty safety orange vest and construction helmet. Cassie saw that the numbers drawn in the sand extended outward, disappearing in the distance.

“Sup frontend dawg, how’s Tartarus?” Alexa asked. Yes, the girl's name was definitely Alexa. Cassie suddenly knew it as well as her own. She suddenly lost all control as her own body moved, spoke on its own accord.

"Honestly? Kind of shit, backend. I think they gave me a concussion if not five today.” Cassie sighed.

“Well, high five for being a jolly good frontend lass, Cass.” Alexa held a hand up.

Cassie simply glared.

“No high fives? I can see why you’d be mad at me.”

“How long is this going to take? I’m seriously starting to lose my shit, I think. I’m this close to blowing up the entire house.” Cassie held her fingers together, leaving the tiniest gap.

“A couple of passes in the center ought to cover it. Do you mind not setting stuff on fire?”

“I’m getting irate, okay? I have to let out some steam! Last time I had any fun was when I made Martin eat a letter like a proper spy. These tools don’t get practical jokes!”

“Find other non-destructive outlets and no more pranks damn it! Stability is important till activation! Take up quilting or something!”

“Alternatively you could hurry the fuck up.” Cassie growled. “I feel like you’re taking way too long. Can we like… switch?”

“Noppers.”

“I hate you.”

“Yeah. I’m a terrible friend to myself. Such is life. You exist while I math. Math is pain too, you know.”

“Are you saying math is more painful than concussions?”

“This kind of math, yes. I'm too full of math to even make fun of myself. Now shush and let me focus.” Alexa returned to writing numbers in the sand.

A falling star rapidly streaked across the sky. It ignited with a flash, fading in the distance.

The ocean began to retreat, exposing strange, fractal crystalline formations. Both of the girls turned, watching the rapid departure of the water.

“Oh, sheet! We got us a breach! It begins. Would be nice if I had another thousand years or two for safeties. Alas.” Alexa said. “Try not to die. Toodles.”

Cassie simply looked back at her tiredly.

The dark ocean returned, shaped like a black tsunami as it rose. The tall wave loomed overhead, reaching from one end of the horizon to the other. There was no escape from it. Cassie closed her eyes, accepting the inevitable, and the black water crashed into her body with immense cold and pain.

. . .

Cold. Icy cold water splashed against her body.

“Wakey wakey! Rinsey, rinsey!” Ms. Wardsworth's overly sweet voice sounded from behind the bathroom door.

“Wuh?” Cassie, slowly came upright, pushing against the white tiles of the shower, grabbed at the shower control, twisting it to reduce the icy water to a warmer temperature. The strange dream in which she talked to herself was already vanishing from her head.

“You’ve had a leetle accident yesterday. Fell off your skateboard, you did. Best be more careful next time, aye? Do finish up your shower and come make breakfast.”

Cassie sniffed, watching the blood from her hair circle down the drain. She didn’t own a skateboard.

“Your clothes are on the sink. I’ve told you before, but you never listen. You should consider buying less random clothes. I’ll never understand your ‘cool’ fashions.” The voice of her mother resonated from behind the door.

Cassie, having washed, emerged from the shower shivering. She donned the provided clothes that were far too small and also too large for her, consisting of a seemingly, utterly random selection of assorted items. She wasn’t allowed to buy clothes. She found a raggedy tag in the pants pocket “Goodlywill - secondhand items by the pound”.

She let out a small cough. Her chest ached from the damp conditions of the basement. She stared at the mirror for a moment at the girl looking back at her. Her short, white hair was stained red from her own blood, watered down from the shower. Pale silver eyes, bloodshot from hours of bad sleep looked back at her.

She cracked her neck and began to clean herself up. There was no way her hair was ever going to look amazing, but she could at least make it look adequate.

Outside of the bathroom, a dull, beige hallway greeted her, featuring many frames with pictures of the Wardsworth family, a noticeable lack of Cassie in them. There were no clocks or calendars along the wall, since Mr. Wardsworth was a hard believer of digital superiority, wearing his calculator watch everywhere and announcing civic holidays, events, or birthdays whenever they had come up during mornings.

There was a broken skateboard in the corridor. She squinted at it.

“A shame you broke it and bumped your head. Guess you won’t be able to skate for a while now.” A comment resonated from the kitchen. Cassie had never skated in her entire life.

“I don’t own a skateboard.” She gritted her teeth, feeling like picking up the broken skateboard and breaking it some more over the heads of her tormentors.

Ambling into the kitchen, Cassie found Mr. and Mrs. Wardsworth waiting at the table. Without looking up, Mr. Wardsworth snapped, “Get cooking, girl.”

With a sigh that never made it past her lips, Cassie meandered over to the fridge and opened it, taking a look at the assortment of food contained within. A carton of eggs, a half-full gallon of milk, a shaker of parmesan cheese, some grape jelly. Nothing she couldn’t make a decent breakfast with, not that she’d be the one to eat it.

Taking the eggs and the milk out of the fridge, she pulled a bowl from a nearby cabinet and mixed the aforementioned ingredients into an albeit thin batch. Placing a pan on the stovetop, she flicked the heater up to halfway and dumped the concoction in. Sprinkling a bit of salt and pepper in, she prodded and blended the eggs in the pan, a delicious smell wafting through the air. Using a plastic spatula to finish up, she retrieved two plates and put generous portions of the scrambled eggs on each one, leaving a small amount just in case-

“Hey, give that to Ember. She needs it for school.”

Cassie winced. Nope, it didn’t look like she was going to be eating this time either. Her stomach grumbled as she scooped the remainder of the eggs onto another plate, doomed to go cold. She could go ask Ember to come down… but then she’d be yelled at for distracting the third most important person in the house. Alternatively, she could simply let the eggs cool and then get yelled at later for ruining Ember’s breakfast. A long time ago, her and Ember had been best friends and supportive sisters and even went camping together, but then something had changed and their relationship started to fall apart until she called Ember a monster and ended up in the room in the basement.

Cassie put her head in her hands, half-hiding behind the marble-topped counter. What I wouldn’t give for them all to just… spontaneously combust. It was an amusing mental image, if nothing else, and she would have laughed if she’d gotten the opportunity. The kitchen was full of dangerous things, accidents could happen. Her mind suddenly presented her a thousand scenarios on how to kill them, how to turn cleaning chemicals in the drawers into death, how to...

Cassie shook her head. No. Be normal. Don’t act out.

She considered the sharp knife collection of her mother. The black handle of the largest knife on the rack called to her, and she couldn’t deny herself the pleasure of reaching for it. While the attention of the Wardsworths was to their breakfast, she grabbed one of the knives, holding it close to her chest, thinking about the things she could do with a knife...

“Ember! My dear! You’ll be late for school!” Mrs. Wardsworth suddenly called out, making Cassie twitch, the sharp knife cutting into her hand. She winced, turning further away, trying to hide behind the counter, her fingers automatically drawing bloody marks onto the surface of the knife, her mind spinning with angry, knife-related thoughts that tilted and careened out of her control.

Lazy footsteps resounded on the stairwell, and Cassie subtly shoved the knife into her shirt. She really, really didn’t want to deal with her sister right now.

She rushed out of the kitchen, without so much as being acknowledged by the Wardsworths, her hand still bleeding profusely. She grabbed her school bag off a plastic hook in the front entrance, spun the front door handle open and emerged outside, snapping the door shut behind her. Blue sky with a few clouds greeted her. The neighbours that were out on a morning walk and getting their mail were staring at her, judging her erratic motions.

She leaned against the dark, cold, wooden surface of the door, her fingers rapidly scratching numbers into the wood, dripping blood. I’m not scared. I’m strong. I’m strong. Cassie tried to still her sudden panic attack. It wasn’t working. The houses of suburbia, the sky, the trees, the neighbours they all seemed small to her, the perspective of her vision twisted into a fisheye, stretched out as panic clawed at her chest.

She slid down onto the concrete steps, her fingers scratching numbers into the steps. She was losing control of herself, losing coherence as reality seemed fake, hollow. She looked at the sign “8 Primrose Drive” on the mailbox and the letters began to vibrate in her eyes. She realised that she was crying.

“I can do this,” she whispered, unable to hold back the tears, unable to stop her hands from writing with her blood onto the concrete step.

How long would it take for Ember to eat breakfast? How long would it take for her to come out here? The school bus is coming. She heard footsteps behind the door. Cassie shoved the panic attack down and disconnected herself from the steps.

She boarded the bus as soon as it stopped in front of the driveway, tripping on the metal steps as her visual perspective of things vibrated in and out.

Turning behind her, she saw that the front door opened up, and an orange-haired, golden eyed eighteen year old stepped out. As if on cue, the world became slightly brighter, likely a cloud passing overhead, heading away from Primrose Drive. She tried to move, but found herself too dizzy.

“Aww… did you cut your little hand?” Ember observed, quickly catching up.

Cassie glared.

“Is your ticky-tick acting up again?” Ember pointed out Cassie’s rapid finger motions.

The driver gave her a look of disapproval as Cassie left a bloody handprint on the step. She clambered onto the schoolbus, heading to the back, hoping to disappear there, hoping to be unnoticed. Eyes of the other kids tracked her progress, heads turning, nasty remarks already sounding here and there. Someone had extended a foot into her path. Unable to stop her momentum, she face-planted into the rubber floor mat.

Her right hand proceeded to write numbers into the floor of the bus on its own accord. She gripped her disobedient hand with her left one, trying to stop the tic, as Ember and her friends laughed mercilessly, pointing out Cassie's inability to do so.

She tried to progress forward. It was difficult. The other students, cheered on by popular kids, spearheaded by Ember, kept tripping, nudging, shoving or outright kicking her. Tears formed in her eyes as her hand wrote words into every surface that she gripped, slowly making her way back to the back of the bus.

She ignored the insults, finally sitting down at the back row, all alone.

“Good morning, mister Driver! How’s things? How’s the wife? Hey guys!” An all too cheerful voice of Ember twinkled. An endless exchange of fake compliments followed. Cassie turned away, trying to tune out the rapid, obnoxiously loud conversation of the popular kids. She looked at the street through the grimy, back window of the bus.

There was a man there, standing in the middle of the road. A long, gray coat hung rather poorly over a tall frame. Round spectacles glinted in the sunlight beneath a wide brimmed hat, as he simply stood there, smiling widely, staring right at her.

"What’s Inspector Gadget doing out in the suburbs? Is he here to solve crimes?" Cassie commented, feeling that the biggest crime in town was being perpetrated against her.

“Or, is he more of a Judge Doom archetype?” She pursed her lips. “Is he here to buy himself an election to make more roads? Centralia already has too many roads, and not enough Toon towns. Would be nice if he demolished my school though.”

Cassie frowned. Thinking about school made her sad. She had no friends there, only enemies or people who ignored her. It was mostly Ember’s fault too. Her sister managed to somehow turn everyone against her after they stopped being friends. People always listened to Ember and never took Cassie’s side, no matter the evidence. She looked back at the detective in the coat as the bus rapidly accelerated away from the odd stranger.

The man didn’t seem like he belonged. Cassie had seen this neighbourhood day in and out for what seemed like forever. Out of place things simply didn’t occur in Centralia. Strangers didn’t show up. This was a concerning development. As Cassie squinted at him she realised that he didn’t vibrate in her vision like the rest of the city.