A "Special" Beauty
The heart-wrenching story of a retard's quest for love.
Written by cheesyfunyun. Made by a retard, for retards. :P
Chapter One:
'Today's a new day!' I thought to myself, as I walked up to the front door of my new client's house. After initially starting this job, I had been petrified of the thought of living in someone else's home, even if it was to take care of the client. But with the amount of money offered here, I just couldn't pass up such an opportunity to make some cash. I wiped the sweat off my brow and put my head to the task at hand.
Walking up the driveway, I stopped for a second to catch my breath. I couldn't believe how hot it was today, and it was absolute murder to walk here. While I was cooling down, I looked up to get a good view at the house i'd be staying at for the next year. It was deep green in color, and fairly large. It was a Dutch styled house, with a surplus of large windows, and brilliant curves around the framing. Through one of the windows on the second story, though, I could see the bold outline of a man laying in his wheelchair. His eyes glimmered as they stared down at me. At first, I was taken aback, but after a moment of steeling myself, I looked back. His eyes were the most wonderful shade of red I had ever seen. They were so captivating that I couldn't bring myself to turn away, and stood their for a full minute before I heard the creaking of an opening door.
"Excuse me?" said the woman, who's head was now peering around the half opened front door. She looked to be in her mid fifty's, with fair skin and stark grey hair. Her teeth were stark white, and almost glowed in the bright sun. She looked very attractive for a woman of her age.
"Hello!" I said, walking up the steps to shake her hand. "You must be Ms. Foundaen! I'm the caretaker you hired to help with your son! My name is Leena Doctrine, but you can call me L!"
"That would be me!" Ms. Foundaen said smiling. "I'm Cheryl Foundaen, but my friends call me Cheryl." She held out her hand, greeting me.
"Ah", I replied, shaking her hand. "Pleased to meet you Cheryl!"
She immediately took on a sour face. "I said my friends call me Cheryl. You will refer to me as Miss Foundaen."
As she examined me from head to toe, I saw her shudder. 'This lady isn't one for first impressions...' I thought I had appropriately prepared for the day, as I had wore my favorite t-shirt (a black background with a simple heart design) and a pair of black skinny jeans. "What's wrong, Miss?" I questioned.
"My boy, Peter, he's not really a fan of the color black", she started. "He hates it, in fact. You should have see the way he screamed at our mailman Tyrone just the other day!" She gave a slight chuckle, and continued. "He gets it from his mother, I suppose. But anyhow, you're here, and there's not much we can do about this-", she motioned to my body, "-on such short notice. So we'll just have to bear with it until you get a chance to change. So come on in, and I'll show you to your living space."
I shrugged, and before heading in, I gave one last glance to the window where I had seen the man. He was no longer there.
To be continued.
This is my first fanfiction, so cut me some slack alright. There's more to come.