Death of the Party ↠ Hemlock Grove ✓

01 ; o'malley oh my

"The story begins with one girl. And like it begins, it ends the same way."

The words left Fern O'Malley's mouth as she dropped the lilac-colored crystal from her hand. Her multiple rings glinting in the light that was bleeding into their house from the window a few feet away. Their mother had forgotten to close the curtains again.

"No happy ending?" Eden asked, a tiny smirk on her face.

"For this story? No," Fern replied, placing her tarot cards back into a neat deck. The bulbous black ring on her index fingers knuckle clacking against the hardwood table.

"I thought I said no predictions before breakfast?"

Fern and Eden both looked up at their mother's voice. Constance O'Malley walked into the room in a long black lace robe. Thick strands of auburn were wrapped securely around teal blue curlers. Unlike the rest of her unfinished appearance, the oldest O'Malley woman had a perfect face of make-up done. Both of her daughters rolled their eyes.

"It was a necessary case," Fern replied, moving off the bench seat of their dining room table and headed towards the tiny table drawer by the door to place her tarot cards in.

"Are you lying to me, Fern?" Constance asked, eyeing her eldest daughter. Unlike what her red hair and freckles normally predicted for eye color, Eden's mother's eyes were a bright blue.

While Eden had gotten the normal green color, Fern had gotten a pair of eyes that showed not only their mother's genetics but their father's as well. One eye was blue and the other was a dark shade of brown.

"I had a dream about it," Fern said, which caused the other O'Malley women in the kitchen to stop. Constance stared at Fern with tight eyes, not even jumping like Eden did when the toaster spit out the toast it had been cooking.

"A dream?" Constance asked slowly. "What is it about?"

"I don't know how to describe it exactly. I just know that the person in the dream was female and that there were two males. One was roguish, grizzly from the lack of a better word. The other, however, looked like old money. From what I got from the dream, something bad was happening. The female I was entrapped in was breathing hard, running from or to something. The only way the males came into the story was because she kept thinking of them while she was running," Fern explained, her multicolored eyes far away. "I kept rooting for her. Trying to help her run faster but nothing I did helped. I felt....useless."

"Do you see any of their faces?" Constance asked, still not reaching behind herself to grab the toast that was peeking out from the toaster's hot coils.

Fern shook her head, "They were blurred,"

With this, Constance turned away with a relieved breath and grabbed the piece of toast that had been waiting for her. "Don't worry. When their faces are blurry that means you don't know them. Nothing to fret over,"

Nodding her head, Fern sat down at the bench seat once more. Eden watched her older sister for a few moments, playing with the orange slice in between her fingers as she pondered. Unlike her sister, Eden wasn't psychic. No matter how much she wished she was so. The gene had seemed to skip her entirely and had carried onto Eden's younger cousin, Ulna.

"Count your blessings Eden," Constance stated, reading Eden's thoughts like she always did. Which was a gift, seemingly, that her mother had but never explained in much detail. "Being able to predict when something is going to happen isn't always a good thing. Especially when it involves family."

"I know," Eden replied back, her tone dry as she popped the abused orange slice into her mouth. She chewed thoughtfully, before standing up from her chair. "I'm going to go get changed."