Comments by author- Ok, this story plot may be used before, and I know as an avid reader of fanfiction you hate seeing that but
Comments by author- Ok, this story plot may be used before, and I know as an avid reader of fanfiction you hate seeing that but whatever. This is my first story ,so you know, comment things will be appreciated. Also, because I want to do this a little by myself ('cuz I'm like that), the spelling and grammar may be a little faulty…but I am doing this on Word, so it should catch it for me…well, anyway. Right, the summary is of followed- this is about Emily and Sam's sons Ben. Well, really it's about the girl he imprints on, Bay. Bay is from Ireland, her mom has recently died and Emily is her godmother. Well, blah, blah, blah, she has a dark past. Can Ben still love her? Woot, on with the storyyyy!! Oh yeah, heads up, there may be some switches in point of view, but I'll try to keep it to a minimum. Rated M for some language….ok a lot
Bay-
Jesus Christ, you'd think my mom would of given me a better godmother, or better yet a better guardian. Someone I knew, maybe lived in the same fucking continent. But no, my lovely young mother chose to die and then send me off to La Pusha, or whatever it was called in Washington. I've already looked the place up, and I can tell you one thing -I won't blend in. But then again, I didn't even blend in here, the place where I've lived my whole life. Roseshead was a little town outside of Dublin, Ireland. Now, the Irish have a long list of children who usually will have red to tangerine hair with green eyes with pale skin with scattered freckles. Well, I have pale skin and I even have freckles…besides that, I'm nothing like the Irish.
Anyway, I've never even seen this Emily cat before. Well, I mean I'm sure I must have seen her when I was a young one. From the pictures my mum gave me, she's a pretty woman, a dreadful scar across her face, but aside from that. My mom said that Emily and her mom's were real close, Emily was there when I was born. She, being my mom, thought it was only fair to give her the role of my godmother. But their friendship was an odd thing, Emily being 7 years older then young Leanne. When my mom gave birth to me at 15, Emily already had a son, Ben who was already two. She was married to a man named Sam, my mom never went to the wedding. I think it was because my mom was awfully mad about who Emily was marrying, saying he was a monster. Or possibly it was because she was jealous, who would ever know the inner workings of her mind.
You wanna know who my dad is? Well, so do I, I also want to know where he is. My mom often tells her sorrow story me when I was in her belly. She would tell me that when it came time for my mom to tell about her being pregnant, my grandparents, the proud Presley's, disowned her. She ran, or rather drove, to Emily's begging forgiveness or something like that for something she claimed she forgot. Emily took her in, helped out pregnant, emotional Leanne, and became my godmother 8 months later. Emily did this, despite her having already a two-year-old son and 12 teenage boys to cook for. When my mom tells me of the ' 12 boys' part she always got a very angry look in her eyes. She warned me to stay away from them. I was always skeptical of this statement, I live in Ireland, they live in America. Hmm, that might be tricky.
They say the only thing I have of my dad, a man my mom won't ever talk about, only to say he broke her heart, are his huge, expressive, deep blue eyes. She would always remind me that I didn't want him in my life, if he never even tried to find me. I could never figure out if she was trying to put me down or warn me. For my 10th birthday some man named John Paul Erving sent me 10 thousand dollars, my mom never found out. I kept the money, still have it even, never spent a cent. He attached a note, in it he wrote: My dearest darling, I hope you know I love you. I know your momma hates me, I would to if I was in her shoes. No, I didn't sleep with any other woman, like she may have played it at. When she told me she was pregnant I admit I did spazz a bit. But, I realized my mistake, I loved her, I loved my Leanne. By the time I got to her house to tell her I was going to marry her…Well, she was gone. It's takin' me 10 years to find you. But now I realize I need to leave you and your momma alone. Here is 10 grand for you, spend it wisely.
With all my love, J.P. Erving
I still have the note in fact, folded around the money in the envelope he sent it in.
"Hello again everyone, I'd like you to plop your cute little tushies down in your seat, with your seatbelt on and tight. Oh, but not too tight!" Oh fuck, just kill me now God. Our plane was stuck with the most crazy flight attendant crew ever. There was the gay Texan who kept hitting on the guy next to me, the woman who just talked who thought she was just so damn cute, and lastly there was a large, black woman who kept giving me fucking advice on men. That woman actually was quite funny, telling me to not have sex on a trampoline or a seesaw. I still can't tell if she's drunk or if she just does some hard drugs. "We'll be landing in about, lets just say, it's going to be very short." What. The. Fuck! Just give us the time. When she came down the aisle I pulled her arm.
"Uh ma'am, I don't want to seem rude, but could you possibly tell me exactly how many more minutes it is until we land?" I flashed her an extra sweet smile just in case. "Well of course hunny" She said while trying to, I don't know, talk baby-like to me, "It will be 10 minutes." She petted my hair before turning around and sitting down. I looked in disgust at her backside, what the hell did she do that for! I shook my long dark honey hair out of my clip, sweeping my bangs to the side, hiding my right eye. I held onto the armrests, anticipating the hard landing we were bound to have. Soon we were down and I was eagerly getting my carry-on bag, a black bag with lots of 'Ireland's on it in multi-color with ribbons and buttons I had put on. I walked out of the plane, giving a simple nod to the attendance crew, smirking as the gay one tried to give one guy his number. Now, don't take me for a homophobe, I have many gay friends back at home, just this one had ticked me off and I was allowed to make fun of him.
The baggage place was fairly empty, except for the few people who were also on my plane. I waited for my 2 hard plastic, zebra print suitcases to come around. I finally spotted one, giving it a hard tug. I had to literally chase the bag around the conveyer belt trying to heave the first bag up. 'Well, fine just no one help the girl with the huge bag' I thought bitterly. I eventually got them both though, I looked down at my cell phone, waiting as it slowly turned on. And no messages, no calls, nothing, damn. I waited on a bench outside, taking a pack of smokes and a lighter out of my bag. If I was going to have to wait in the god forsaken place for some crazy-ass lady I was sure as hell not going to be cigarette-less.
I waited for two hours, going through a whole pack of smokes. I got up twice, once to get some snacks, and the other time to change. I was originally wearing some flannel sweatpants with a tank top, but deciding it was too cold for that. As much as a I hated lugging the two demon bags from hell around, I hated being cold and wearing dirty clothes even more. I changed into some simple white jeans with chocolate UGGS. For my top I decided to wear a homemade shirt my friends had made. On the front it said in big pink letters – Fuck The Dogs – with a picture of a huge wolf, and on the back said Love The Kitties with a picture of a sleeping kitten. I returned to my seat just as a large blue car came into view. I knew I should of known the name of the car, my best friend back at home, Eddie, taught me all I know about cars today. That includes how to street race and fix them. I was 15 years old, meaning I couldn't legally drive in America yet. But, damn, I loved to drive fast cars. My favorite- vipers, o lord, just saying the name, no thinking of the car would give me an orgasm. A huge Indian came out of the car. Or maybe I should use the politically correct term of Native Americans, I knew Emily was Native American, something that started with a Q or some shit like that. And when I say huge, holy shit, I mean it! I couldn't tell for sure, I mean being five feet, 5'3 is tall for me, but this guy seemed like a fucking giant! All I could think was, 'did Emily send some man to kill me off?'
"Hey, well, uh, are you Bay?" I nodded hestitantly. He then smiled, showing off pearly white teeth that shone beautifully against his skin. "Well, I see you are kinda shy, so I'll get straight to the poi-"
"Um, what?" I asked raising my eyebrows, "I don't immidetiely talk to you, so that makes me shy? Hmm? Well, what if I wore a bikini, would you think I'm a slut right off the bat." That seemed to shut him up, but he did smirk. His eyes traveled down to my shirt though, "Dude, just because I made a remark about my clothing doesn't mean you have to go and look at my chest!" I could make out a faint red blush come across his skin.
"Just wondering, what does your shirt say?" He asked, trying to play it off I guess.
"Fuck the dogs, love the kitties" I answered boredly, "So what, Emily too busy doing Sam to pick me up?" I looked up and Jake to see him having, what I thought, an seizure. "No," He bit out harshly, "She's making food for your party." He glared down at me. "Gee, I get a party. For little ole me?…Wait should I be honored?" I knew I was sounding like a bitch, but once I get started I can usually not stop.
Jake just glared at me while he went to gather my bags, I went to the passenger door and hopped in. I told him thanks once he got into the car, he just nodded his head in reply.
"So, am I allowed to now assume you're the shy one since you aren't talking?" I asked, "Because if that's so…" I looked up to see his hands gripped tightly to the steering wheel.
"Jesus Christ!" He burst out, I simply smirked his way, "I lost a bet you know, if I would of just won one more match" He continued muttering to himself. I giggled quietly.
"Ok, well do I get presents at this party? Was it supposed to be a surprise, because I can act the part if I need to." He once again glared at me before turning to look ahead.
"So, how was the plane ride?" I could tell this was a struggle for him. I answered him with a short answer of ok. "How's your mom? I met her when she was pregnant with you, nice woman." Hmm, it seems as though Emily has decided to keep my mom a secret, well fine two can play at that game. "She's great, a new man every day." We stayed quiet the rest of the ride, I needed time to think, Jake need time to get ready for my next attack. He came to a stop in front of a quaint blue cottage with a nice garden outside. I stayed inside the car, looking at the house, until Jake interrerupted my thoughts with knocking on the window. I did this tripping thing out of the car, my bag on my shoulder. We walked up the stairs toward the house.
Jake opened the door to reveal Emily, Sam, another Quilt boy with a girl on his lap. Emily smiled brightly, "Oh Bay! It's so great to see you. Well Welcome to La Push!"
Welcome to Hell is more like it.