Darla Rose had a rough time growing up. She looked like your average 12 year old , and enjoyed most of the things a 12 year old would enjoy. Yet, she had a terrible time relating to many of the other things 12 year old girls these days seemed to enjoy.
She loved “Finding Nemo”, crystal jewelry, makeup, and boys. She didn’t much like cigarettes, alcohol and drugs. She was a strange kid brought up in a rough neighborhood, where those things were the norm. Turning them down made her seem strange and a bit too straight for that area of town.
She was an average student and excelled at art. Her teachers would ‘ooooo’ and ‘aahhh’ when she threw something “different” together for an assignment. Her real ‘art’ was hidden in her drawing tablet. She would draw animals, trees, the homeless, her street… she loved recording life. Every drawing she drew was distinctly a “Darla Rose” creation. She filled them all with a sensitivity that belied her age and, won the tough guys’ respect enough to leave her alone.
Her mother was a good mother. Her father had left when Darla was three years old. He sent a present to her on every birthday. It was always a piece of jewelry that contained an opal (her birthstone) and a card. “I love you, Darla” it said, “your Dad”.
It was OK. Not many kids she knew in this part of town even got that much from their fathers. Her mother picked up work where she could. She took temporary labor jobs more than anything. One day her mother came home and just sat down, and told Darla she was too exhausted d to go to work anymore. Given that her mom was only 34, they both worried about her health. Darla begged her to go to the doctor. Her mom would not, due to money. Finally, Darla found a clinic, and her mom went to it. She was diagnosed with lymphoma.
Although her mom fought hard, she couldn't overcome the cancer. She died three months before Darla's birthday. They made arrangements with her Uncle, Brett, to take care of her after her mom's death. He was Darla's only relative. Her mom made a quiet agreement with Brett regarding what life insurance she had. It was his if he made sure Darla would finish school and have a roof over her head until she was eighteen. When money was on the table, Brett listened. He agreed.
Darla knew Brett, as they all did. He was handsome and charming, but, he had a mean temper and drank. Darla dreamt deep dreams of her mom when she passed. She dreamt of her worrying about Darla even after her death. So Darla decided to do the best she could and work things out with her Uncle, even though she didn't trust him. Brett agreed to rent a room to Darla in his new apartment. The money in the life insurance policy would keep a roof over their heads until Brett started making some steady money. Her mom also made Brett promise not to drink in front of Darla. He swore he wouldn't.
Then he did something she could never forgive to an animal she loved. Yet, at her age, she had no choice but to stay with him.
She started drawing obsessively, mostly, cats. It was an amazing place where they had moved. Abbottsford Road was filled with cats. Drawing them was quite a change from walking down the street she used to live on trying to avoid the drug dealers. She knew in her way, too, that she would get beyond her current prison and Brett would face his "karma". The only thing she didn’t know is that another sensitive lived next to her. Soon she would meet her counterpart, Magikys Cigany, and Darla would enter another world… one that she would readily embrace...
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