So I got this amazing idea. At least, I hope it's amazing. It's about Victoria and a little girl named Anne, who Victoria claims is her daughter. Where did Anne come from? How did Victoria live through Eclipse? Why did Victoria stop trying to get revenge? How did Laurent come back from the grave? Discover these questions and more in this riveting tale of a seemingly-human child and a seemingly-evil vampire.
My mother passed the first mile marker to Otis, Oregon when I finally decided to look at her. I hadn't spoken to anyone in four days, twelve hours, and thirty six minutes. It wasn't hard, not speaking, but it was grating on my mom's last nerve. In the beginning, she had tried to hide her aggravation by prattling on and on about Otis. Halfway through the trip she'd fallen silent, switching on the radio and filling the car with Beethoven.
Really, what did she think I was going to do when she told me she got a promotion that would require us to move all the way across the country? Jump for joy? Um, I'm going to say no. I was in the middle of my junior year, so close to graduation that I could almost taste it! And, now I was going to have to start all over.
I was an awful people-person. My mother knew that better than anyone. I could make the friendliest person in the world hate me just by looking at them. It was through sheer luck that I had managed to befriend two people by the time I left Maine. They were twins and they were both blind and deaf. I sighed, wishing I could've at least stayed in touch with them.
The weather was my only condolence. It was going to be relatively the same as Maine, wet and wet and more wet. The best part was that I wouldn't stand out with my pale skin- the only tan here would be the spray-on kind.
Mom's sweet child-like voice lilted over the simple melody of Bach's 'Divertimento', puncturing the silent bubble we were in. I turned away pointedly as she said, "Anne, cheer up! Think about all the friends you'll meet. It's only a year and a half before we travel to Europe! We'll go to Venice, Paris, Rome, even London! Imagine, darling! Your suffering will be short-lived. I just need to save up a tad more…"
Against my will a few tears stained my cheeks, "Momma, I just want to go home."
"I know, Darling," Momma whispered as we passed a sign that said we were two miles away from Otis. The sky was weeping big fat tears, mocking me in a way. I glared at it, aiming all my devastation at the roiling clouds. It did no good.
"Why?" The question was barely a breath, but it hung in the car like a boulder, crushing me to the seat.
Mom stayed quiet for a while before saying, "Home isn't a specific place or building, you know. Home is where the people you love are. We will have a home so long as we have each other."
I nodded, wiping away my tears. "Yes, Mama," I said in a raspy voice.
"Now, look alive. We're coming into the town proper!" she patted my back as we pulled through. This spot of country wasn't worthy of the title town as far as I was concerned. The place had one road and that road didn't even have a stop light. It was more like a blip on a map with a post office, fire department, and café.
"I thought we were moving near the coast," I stated with a hint of annoyance. Where was the break in trees and green? Where was the water?
"That's in Lincoln City, where you'll be going to school. It's about fifteen, twenty minutes away from here on Highway 101," Mom supplied helpfully.
In other words, we were stuck with green, green, and more green without even the smallest hope of a little bare rock or water. My life was always infested with greenery; until now I hadn't realized how much I'd come to despise the stuff. I understood that it gave oxygen to us humans, but did there have to be so much? No, certainly not!
About ten minutes later we turned off onto a dirt road that led to a gravel drive. I shifted in my seat, curious as to what my mother had bought. She hadn't shown me any pictures. It was better for me to 'see it for myself.' She chuckled as I shifted impatiently, but didn't bother telling me to calm down.
"James Manor," Mom intoned as we finally came upon our house. It was quite marvelous for a house out in the middle of nowhere. It was a modern version of a log cabin on stilts with sleek windows and a wraparound porch. I smiled, but quickly arranged it into a frown. I couldn't be happy about moving here, now could I?
For good measure, I slammed the car door shut as I got out. Mom petted my hair as she passed me and pulled out her key. She told me that my room was on the third floor. I nodded and rushed to it as soon as the door opened.
The first two floors were pretty standard, with stately, no nonsense stairways, but, the stairway to the third floor was fashioned in a spiral. The spiral staircase was a secret desire I'd been harboring since I was a little girl. I rolled my eyes. Mom was really trying to get on my good side.
I ascended the stairs carefully and found myself in a loft-like room. It was small, as if the original owners had first intended it to be an attic, but that was alright. I was still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that my room wasn't on the third floor, it was the third floor.
I turned my attention to the rest of the room. Three walls were white, waiting for me to paint them at my leisure. I say three because the entire back wall was comprised of windows. If I didn't know any better I would've thought I was outside. There was a marvelous view of the surrounding forest from here.
I allowed myself to smile softly as I stared out into the wilderness. All the greens weren't so bad from up here. They would actually be beautiful if they weren't a part of my prison. The thought gave me an idea. A sketch began to form in my mind, urging me to put it to paper. I needed my sketchpad. Where were all my boxes? My bed was already put together, but that was the only inhabitant aside from me.
"How do you like it?" Mom asked. I jumped, clutching my heart to my chest.
"You scared me woman!" I yelped and blinked at her with big eyes. "It's okay, I guess. Where are my things?"
"They're downstairs in the living room. The idiot mover obviously didn't know how to read."
"I take offense to that!" a man with a distinct accent bellowed from somewhere downstairs. "I'm pretty intelligent you know!"
"Laurent!" I squealed happily as he entered my room. I ran towards him without abandon, eagerly being swept into a bone-crushing hug. I hadn't seen him in two whole years. He was the uncle/brother I never had. "What rock have you been hiding under?"
"I could say the same Little Red," he chuckled softly. "I would never miss your sixteenth birthday. It's coming very soon, you know!"
"It's in six months, Laurie. At least you will lessen my pain and suffering!"
Mom glared at me playfully. Laurent interrupted our banter by asking, "How is the planning going Victoria?"
What was she planning for my birthday? It must be big for Laurie to come six months in advance! Suspicion bloomed in my mind, but I didn't know how to acquire the answers I sought. I'd just have to bide my time and wait. Waiting was what I did best!
Mom gave Laurie 'the look' and said, "Why don't you help me get the rest of her boxes, Laurent?"
He sighed, looked at me with his big black eyes, and retreated downstairs. I flopped down on my bed and took off my shoes and socks. I wriggled my toes, delighting in the freedom. Mom hated shoes, too. It was a habit I'd picked up from her.
Once I was sure I was far enough behind, I proceeded to follow them. I really needed a nice glass of cherry Kool-Aid. I hadn't eaten or drunken a single thing since we left Maine. It'd been out of stubbornness, obstinacy which my belly now regretted.
The kitchen was on the second floor, well out of Mom and Laurie's way. I thanked God. I didn't want to help out with the boxes any more than they wanted me to. I was the most klutzy girl on the face of the earth. I could break an Otterbox in less than five minutes just by carrying it around. There was no telling what I'd do to all my precious memories.
I shivered as I walked across the stone floor to the four boxes stacked on the kitchen table. I read the tag on the top box: 'plates'. The one below that read silverware and the one below that read glasses. I carefully shifted the boxes and lowered them to the floor. My favorite Mickey Mouse mug was at the very top, wrapped a million times in paper.
"Kool-Aid's in the fridge," Mom said as she passed by with three boxes. I flinched, but smiled, swaggering to the fridge. She was a sneaky one, my mom. Unlike most parents, she really did have eyes in the back of her head. I swear to it.
I poured myself a glass and sat down for a moment to relax. Supper would be Laurie's duty tonight. I didn't care what he thought. He could make the best chicken fettuccini ever. It was like heaven in my mouth.
Laurie popped in and grabbed the Kool-Aid pitcher, as if reading my mind. I tossed him a mug, which he caught. I pouted while he chuckled.
"I'm the one with the wicked reflexes in this family!" Mom grinned like a Cheshire cat as she entered. I rolled my eyes.
"Yeah? Well, I'm the one who caught the mug!"
I sent Mom her mug just as he said that. She caught it without even turning her head. "Take it back," she grinned smugly.
"I shall never Queen Victoria!" Laurent replied as he poured a generous amount in both glasses and popped them in the microwave. They were so weird sometimes. What adult drinks Kool-Aid, let alone hot Kool-Aid?
I finished my glass and went upstairs to unpack. I wouldn't be able to sleep tonight if all the boxes were piled up, looming over me like murderous shadows. My imagination was so screwed up. I shook my head and got to it. There was a lot of crap in there….
I took a break for dinner, which was, naturally, Fettuccini. I chugged it down with a tall glass of Kool-Aid and got back to work. It took four long hours of grueling work before I was mostly done. Everything important was tucked away in my closet, bureau, or desk. A few boxes of knickknacks, photos, and other memorabilia were shoved underneath my bed for later examination.
I ran my fingers through my hair before adding the final touch: my books. I took each of them with careful hands and lined them up on the shelf that hung over my bed. Most were older than my mom, if not my grandma. I bought them from antique and consignment shops and restored them as best as I could. I loved Jane Austen, Shakespeare, Charlotte Brontë, John Bunyan, you name it. If it was older than the 1950s, I'd probably read it and read it again.
It was about ten when I'd finally finished, so I got in bed. It was going to be a long day tomorrow. School was coming and coming fast.
I woke up bright and early, ready to face the day. Ha, I wish. I woke up twenty minutes late to my mom threatening to throw cold water all over me. "Anne Marie James Still-Hart, this is your last chance. Get up before I get the ice bucket!"
"I'm up, mum!" I shrieked and sat up quickly.
"It's six thirty. The Mom-o-bile leaves at seven whether you're in it or not," Mom told me as she sauntered downstairs. "Laurent made breakfast, by the by."
I hopped up, shivering at the cold floor, before snatching my lingerie, a long sleeve shirt and pair of jeans from my bureau. I ran to the bathroom that was on the second floor, realizing that that was the only bummer about my room; it didn't have an adjoining bathroom. My shower lasted three minutes, a sure record. I toweled off and threw on my clothes. I'd unwittingly grabbed my favorite pair of Abercrombie jeans and a wine red turtleneck. It was the only turtleneck I owned mainly because I hated turtlenecks.
Time was not on my side, so I shrugged it off and began brushing my hair. It was a tangled mess of bronze curls that were unruly at best and wild at worst. When I finally tamed my hair I brushed my teeth and went downstairs. "Morning," I told Laurie cheerfully. He rolled his eyes and handed me a plate of toast and egg whites along with a glass of cherry Kool-Aid.
"Your messenger bag and lunch box is by the door. Victoria is awaiting you in her chariot. It's six fifty seven by the way."
I downed my drink and eggs, shoved the toast in my mouth, and rushed towards the front door. I slid my chucks on while I shrugged into a light jacket. It was blacker than night. I pulled my bag over my head, snatched my lunch box up, and raced out the door with my shoes still untied. It was drizzling slightly, a maelstrom in the making.
"Looks like you got lucky," she chuckled as I jumped into the car. "Tie your shoes. I don't feel like taking you to the hospital today."
I grumbled under my breath as I tied my shoes.
"What was that?" she asked sternly.
"I was just saying how wonderful of a mother you were," I replied sweetly. I zipped up my jacket, warding away some of the cold. Why was Oregon so cold? Even Maine didn't seem this frigid. Perhaps it was the perpetual mass of clouds that made it seem that way.
I watched the road, waiting for my new school to come into view. It did not disappoint. It was like any other high school in the continental US. It was made out of the standard red brick and shaped into a large penitentiary square. All it needed was bars on the windows and the institutionary appearance would be complete.
"Well, here we are: Taft High School. Have a wonderful day, Love," Mom kissed my head lightly as I got out. I sighed and wished my mom farewell. It was time to go to my doom.
So what do you think? Review please! Thanks!