Dream of a memory
A/N: All I own is Lexie, everything and everyone else belongs to J.K. Rowling
She was dreaming. She had to be dreaming. That or something was seriously wrong because her father was standing before her, which in itself was crazy. Why? Because her parents were killed years ago, in some great battle that no one would tell her about.
Dream or not, she soaked up her father's presence as she watched the man tease a young woman affectionately before kissing her. She looked around, wondering if she could find some clue about where she was in this dream but all she saw were pictures. Curious and unnoticed, she walked toward them, her eyes going from a couple, the woman with long brown hair and the man with shoulder-length black hair. Another picture held the same couple holding a newborn baby, the same mop of hair and eyes as the woman. She saw a photo of her father with some other men, only he wasn't smiling, some had her mother in them too. She wondered who they were, if this was more a memory than a dream.
"I have to go dear, Order business," Her mother said, grabbing a small handbag. They kissed and she disappeared. Her father sighed with a worried expression just as the dream shifted, to a man who looked very little like her father holding a younger version of herself, tears in his eyes.
"It's just us now star shine, I'll never leave you." He whispered, but she saw the grief and pain in his amber eyes.
"Alexis Rose Meadowes, wake up! You've chores young lady!" The loud voice called out from the hallway, jolting her from her dream. Alexis, or Lexie as she insisted upon, groaned and wiped away the tear as her father's image faded from her mind.
Lexie glanced over at the picture on her nightstand of her parents, bidding them a silent good morning, before she realized that if she didn't hurry, she would miss whatever was left of breakfast before her day of chores and meeting prospective parents began.
"Well here's to another day, right Max?" She asked her cat, who ignored her and curled up in the spot she'd vacated. Max was an orphan just like her, she had found him stuck in a tree as a kitten a few years back and had climbed up to get him. It was only due to a freak accident that she and the kitten weren't killed when her foot slipped coming back down, but they were inseparable after that. Every foster home had accepted the young girl and her cat for only a brief time before both were sent back, sometimes because of her freak accidents, and sometimes for no reason at all.
Lexie didn't mind the orphanage much; it was the floor you couldn't fall below. It was all she had known since the day she was discovered in the alleyway nearby. She supposed she was lucky, if the cook hadn't found her, there was no telling where she would be now. The other children kept their distance mostly, a lot of them labeled her as a freak, but she didn't care. All she wanted was a place to belong and things to draw. Her talent was something she’d learned by drawing and sketching at the age of 5, and then learned to paint. One of her foster homes had enrolled her in art classes for the 8 month duration of her stay.
Wondering just how long her name would be if she added all of the foster homes together as she dressed, Lexie let out a sigh, dressing in a pair of comfortable jeans and a tee. She slipped her long hair into a ponytail and grabbed her bag with her sketch book and pencils; she set it on the bed. "I'll bring you something for breakfast, Max. The sooner I finish my chores, the sooner I can find something to draw."
Without so much as a meow for a response, Lexie left her room, and her dream, behind; wondering what the day would hold.