YAY! It's here! The moment of glory is here!

Anywayz, helloz and welcome to my second Coraline Fanfic entitled, Life Sucks and I'm Proof Of That. Before we start, a huuuuuge shout out to WybiE'z KidNapPer for giving me the idea. Youz rock, WybiE'z KidNapPer! This one's gonna be a chapter fic soooooo, wish me luck!

Enjoy the Fic that I put all of my hard labour into ;)

Disclaimer:

Me: Wybie! Coraline! Get over here and disclaim me!

Wybie: Why do we have to do it? Why can't you or that dude over there do it?

Me: Oh, D Max. Don't mind him, he's just the devil's son that follows me around everywhere I go. Now, Cora, Wyb-ster, disclaim me.

Coraline: I still don't understand why you can't do it.

Me: Because I'm lazy! Now disclaim me before I shoot you both!

Coraline: You don't even have a gun!

Me: *Randomly pulls out a sniper riffle* You were saying. *Click, Click*

Wybie and Coraline: STARMOONROSEDOESNOTOWNUS!

Me: I'm sorry. I didn't hear that.

Wybie and Coraline: STARMOONROSE DOES NOT OWN US! PLEASE DON'T SHOOT!

Me: That's better. Now, on with the story.

Ever since the second I woke up I knew it was going to be a bad day. Not because I woke up on the cold ground, feet tangled in the sheets, head throbbing from the fall and I felt a little sick in the stomach. No, not because of that at all. I knew it was going to be a bad day because it was raining heavily outside like it has been ever since the start of the week, the air outside was strangely warm and the sky was black, literally. I fumbled to untangle myself for the sheets and avoid hitting my head on the bedside table at the same time. Both actions impossible doing separately. I found that out the hard way. I dressed in my usual outfit; a grayish white T-shirt and a pair of rolled up jeans, I attempt to make my hair look at least half decent (failing miserably at that by the way), brush my teeth, wash my face and then I slide down the stair railing to breakfast. Gramma noticed this and sighed a little.

"Don't do that, sweety. You'll hurt yourself," she scolds while she lays out the table for breakfast.

"Alright, Gramma. What's for breakfast?"

"I made your favorite today. Bacon and eggs." I smile at those words. The stuff that Gramma cooks might just be the stuff that gets served in Heaven. I swear it. Immediately, I sit at the table and patiently await the food that was to come in a little while. When she sets that plate down in front of me, I grab my fork and instantly gobble it down. Gramma chuckles a bit. "Slow down, boy. You'll get a stomach ache."

"Ok, Gramma." After I finish my breakfast, I give my Gramma a quick kiss on the cheek and a little hug to thank her for the meal before making my way towards the lounge to watch some TV until the rain stops.

I watch as my grandma paces through the kitchen, talking to someone on the phone about renting a place in the apartments that she owns. I really couldn't care less about who lives in the Pink Palace as long as they keep of my turf. I watch Gramma walk up and down the kitchen and I wonder how long she has been at it. I already knew someone was moving in and I guess she was making some last minute reminder or something like that. I shake my head and turn back to the TV with a half-interest on what's going on onscreen. I start to surf. My options aren't so great, though.

I kill the TV and start fiddling with the remote, being careful not to drop it on the floor. Last time I was fiddling with the TV remote, I ended up breaking the thing into a million little pieces. Dang me and my clumsy hands. I had to sit through about four hour in total of Gramma's lectures and believe me when I say this; when Gramma has something on her mind, get out of there now before she melts your brain. Trust me, I'm living proof. The word "living" underlined seven times. I sigh and jump up off the couch and walk up to Gramma who has finish talking on the phone. Glancing out the window, I'm struck with an idea. It had stopped raining. "Hey, Gramma. Can I go outside and ride my bike? Please?"

Gramma sighs. She hates it when I go on my bike. She says I could fall over and break my foot then I wouldn't be able to get up. I would be forced to stay out in the cold, cold nights alone with a broken foot and starving. Then I would die. Gramma is famous for making things sound more dramatic then they really were. She doesn't understand that I'm 11 years old. I'm not a baby anymore and I can do things on my own. But she doesn't listen. Gramma sits down on the kitchen table.

"Yes you can but you have to do something for me," she says. I nod as a way to tell her I'll do anything. She sighs again. "I want you to meet the new kid that is moving into the apartments." My happy expression immediantly turns into horror. My smile turning into a frown. "W-what?" I croak. I am not good with other kids. I get bullied enough at school but now I can get bullied right here. Joy.

"You don't have any friends," she says in a matter-of-fact voice. I roll my eyes. Thank you, Captain Obvious. "And its not good for you to be so shut out from society. So I'm letting a child stay in the Pink Palace so you can be friends with her," she continues, ignoring my eye roll. I cringe a little. Her? It's a girl? Great, just great.

"D-do you r-really think I n-need to b-be friends with someone? Especially a g-g-girl?" I ask, stuttering like crazy. I really need to work on my speaking abilities. Gramma nods and my fate is sealed. Somebody please kill me. Kill. Me. Now! I beg you! I DARE you! I don't want to be friends with a girl. I'm not good at these things. I bet that this girl will end up hating me after our first meeting and will start to plot my death. I bet on my life so it'll work in both ways. I trudge towards the front door but before I can open the door, I turn around to say something to my grandma. "Y'know you are going to be the cause of my death, don't you?" I say to try and wriggle my way out of this situation. My gramma takes alot of things seriously and I hope she'll take this one seriously. But she just laughs and my hopes are dashed.

"Go and meet the new girl, Wybourne," she says and I cringe at my name. Whoever though that up are in for alot of cursing. I can't wait until I'm 18 and I can finally change my name. I think I'll change it to something along the lines of... I have no idea but I'll think of something. I walk into the garage and grab my homemade motorbike and my favorite skull helmet. The one with with the green luminous lenses, and wheel my bike outside. Before I go, I grab my coat from the coat rack by the door and pull it on. Gramma says I need to put reflective stripes on my coat or I might get hit by a car. When I said to her, "What cars?" I got grounded for a week for back chatting.

I hop onto my bike and start to pedal towards the woods. There are a few things here that are kind of interesting but if the girl is the kind of girl that I think she is, she wouldn't go anywhere near those places. The old underground well is my absolute favorite. They say that its so deep that if you fell into the bottom and looked up, you'd see a sky full of stars in the middle of the day. I wanted to see if that was true but I don't feel like jumping into an old well anytime soon. I've been throwing rocks and stuff into the well and recording how many seconds it takes for it to get to the bottom. I swear it gets deeper every time. I stop suddenly. I thought I saw a flash of blue come from somewhere in the woods. I rub my eyes with my knuckles. I really need to work on my eyesight. I start to pedal away but another flash of blue catches my eye. I groan in frustration. Now I'm hallucinating? I'm about to leave when I see it again. This time, clearer and brighter and... closer? Standing down by the old well in front of me is a girl with short blue hair and bright hazel eyes. Her yellow raincoat and matching swampers had small flecks of mud on the bottom and I could tell just by that tiny detail that she wasn't the kind of girl who would scream like a banshee if she got a bit of mud on her clothes or broken a nail or something like that.

I duck behind some shrubs as she turns towards where I am standing. I hear her scream a little but its cut short when she see's it's only Cat, my cat. Now I know what you are probably thinking because I'm not a psychic. Thing is, I'm not good with names. I mean, when I first found this cat, the first thing that actually came into my mind was... Cat. So I decided to call it that. He doesn't seem to mind, though. He seems happy enough with that name so I'm gonna leave it at that for now and think about it later when he shows any signs of caring about his name. "You scared me to death, you mangy thing!" I hear the girl shout. I watch as she throws her bag to rest at the roots of the tree stump that Cat was standing on. "I'm just looking for an old well. Know it?" At that, I raise an eyebrow. Talking to a cat, eh? Well, that's... completely... sane.

You do the same thing, says the little voice in the back of my head.

Shut up, conscience. I go back to listening to the girls conversation. She was holding a split stick like she was water witching. I'm pretty sure that's poison oak. I'll check it later. As she was chanting the "magic dowser, magic dowser" voodoo thingy, I positioned my bike at the top of the slope. I decided to make an entrance. I press the fog horn several times to get her attention and pulled the bike up into a perfect wheelie and begin to ride down the slope.

I trudge into the house after dumping my bike in the garage, my thoughts on the blue haired girl. He name is Caroline... no, CORAline. Coraline Jones but I'll call her Jonesy so I don't mess up her name and hit me like she did when I examined her dowsing rod. My suspicions were right, though. It was poison oak. I walk up the stairs and fall face first on my bed. Gramma comes up after a while. "Did you meet her?" she ask in her innocent, elderly voice. I sigh and roll over to face her.

"She's mean and snotty and annoying and she's just plain weird. I mean, blue hair? Come on!" I see my Gramma give me The Look. When Gramma gives me The Look, it means she's not entirely convinced and I'm in for another one of her famous lectures about telling the truth. "A-and she hit me! For no reason!" I add quickly, lifting up my leg to show her the bruise that had formed where she slapped me. Gramma raises an eyebrow. A big victory song goes through me head as she considers my evidence. Then, it all comes crashing down. "The Jones' aren't moving. They're staying and that's that. Now, Wybourne, be a dear and go and grab something for me?"

Rolling my eyes, I nod and haul myself up. "Okay, Gramma. What do you need?"

I never want to do another favor for Gramma ever again. I repeat. I never want to do another favor for Gramma ever, EVER again!

If I have to stay up in the attic for another minute I swear I will kill myself. I absolutely hate it up here. It's all dusty and dark and I keep tripping over god knows what that's lying around the floor. All she wanted was this old umbrella that she kept up here because the other one downstairs just recently broke. Now, I'm not going to say it's not my fault but I think the whole world knows what the real answer is gonna be. I see the umbrella and grab it, desperate to get out of this horrid place when something catches my eyes. Gramma's forbidden trunk. Now, most of you would just ignore it and leave but to me this thing is gold. Gramma has completely forbidden me to look inside it but me being my nosey self, I just have to look inside it or I will die of curiosity. I make my way towards it, slowly edging to the little brown trunk. Once I'm there, I tear the thing open and look inside. There were loads of pictures and clothes from when she was young and other stuff like teddy's and toys. Then I see blue. Reaching in, I grab a little doll and pull it out from under the junk. I almost drop the doll in amazement. It looks exactly like Jonesy! Blue hair, raincoat, swampers. The whole set!

Maybe I should give it to her to, y'know, "make peace". Gripping the doll tightly, I rushed over to the exit and climb down. Gramma is waiting for me at the bottom. "Ah! There you are, Wybourne. What on earth were you doing up there?" I hide the doll carefully behind my back and smile, handing her the old umbrella. "Nothing. It was just... hard to find." I sneak past her and rush into the kitchen. I quickly wrap the doll in some newspaper and scribble down a little note. "Hey, Gramma! I'm going down to the old well. I'll be back in a bit, OK?"

"Alright. But be careful!"

"I will, Gramma."

With that said, I rush out the door. I was going to attempt to make peace with Jonesy before she actually starts plotting murder. That was going to be a challenge. I learnt that the extremely hard way. After leaving the doll on the front porch, I ran straight home, even though I knew that her mom must've seen me. But that's not when the evil, black magic stuff started to happen. It started that night when I was faced with the worst nightmare in the world. And that's an just an understatement.

Black. I saw a lot of black. No colour, no light. Just black. I wandered through the abyss, being careful not to trip on my own feet out of fear and pure clumsiness. There were voices. Hissing, demonized voices everywhere. There were so many and I didn't know where they came from. They were dully hissing in a sing-songish voice as if they were reciting some old nursery rhyme.

"We are small but we're many,

We are many but we're small.
We were here before you rose,
We will be here when you fall..."

It was really starting to creep me out. A flashing silver caught my eye and I peered in the direction it came from. Then, a shape appeared infront of me. A long, silver object. I then realized it was a sewing needle...

"We have teeth, and we have tails,
We have tails and we have eyes.

We were here before you fell,

You will be here when we rise..."

Buttons, lots of them, floated around me. Trapping me like a mouse in a snap trap. I started freaking out. Whatever was going to happen next was not going to be good. In fact, it was going to be hellish.

"We have eyes and we have nerveses,

We have tails, we have teeth.

You'll all get what you deserveses,
When we rise from underneath."

A figure in the distance appeared out of nowhere. It approached me, a sick, twisted expression dorned it's cracked face as it pulled out a needle from somewhere. The song repeated again as it threaded some string into the little loop at the end of the needle and looks over at me, cackling at how scared and weak I must look. I soon found that I couldn't move anymore. I tried to move my limbs or anything in fact, but they were completely immobile. The thing slowly approached me, needle raised and black button eyes raking up and down my immobile form. It positioned it's needle at the place near my heart and my scream was masked by the dull, hissing creatures as they finished their song for the third time.

"-When we rise from underneath..."

I bolted upright in my bed. My sheets were drenched in cold sweat and I felt a little dizzy. I peered out the window. It was way too dark to see anything outside but I just wanted to do something that might help me forget the horror. I blink and start to tremble when I swear I saw a streak of silver gleam from outside. I close my eyes and press my index fingers to my eye sockets until green and red circles appear, trying to block out the pictures of those charcoal button eyes and that sickening laugh and that gruesome blood red smile. Shaking my head, I fall back onto my pillow. I mean, it was just a dream... right?

I'M DONE! AFTER MONTHS AND MONTHS OF PLOTTING AND PLANNING AND WRITING AND EDITING, I HAVE DONE IT! THE LAST BIT ONLY TOOK ME AN ALL-NIGHTER BUT I AM DONE!

*ahem* So yeah. This took me forever. And guess what? I'm doing it in chapters *insert sweat drop here* Only God can help me now. But all of you generous people can help me also by reviewing and telling me what you think because I really need help. Another biiiiig thanks to WybiE'z KidNapPer for the idea! Please support meeee. Pwetty pwease?

Later,

~ Maxoline/Max