I originally posted this as a note on Facebook so my friends could read, but then figured it'd probably get more readers here....so...yea...

(FB A/N:)

Decided to do some form of creative writing at fucking 11:37 p.m., while on my PJATO high no less....so yea....it's starring three of my many PJATO OC's: Lynnette & Lyzzette Bjørnson and Camille Brooks. It's in Lynnette's point of view since she's the only one with her info straight...
Enjoy!

This was it. Our first fashion show. Our first strut down the runway. This is what Lyzzette and I have been waiting for since we came to Europe. To be supermodels. We were so close now.

"Lynnie, look!" Lyzzette pointed excitedly at the dress she was going to wear; black one-shoulder, floor lenght with a thigh-high slit on the side without the shoulder strap, with grey chiffon underneath.

I nodded at her and pointed at my number; a ripped-up, black leather jumpsuit with a studded collar.

Her grey-ish lips, stained from all the black lipstick we've been wearing over the years, formed an ecstatic smile. I could tell she was trying hard to compose herself.

"Excuse me," said a voice from behind me.

I turned. A clean-cut stage assistant stood there flipping through some papers. She was muttering.

"You are...." she frowned a bit, trying to figure out the pronunciation, "...the... Bjørnson twins, correct?"

"Yes," Lyzzette and I answered in unison. The stage assistant nodded.

"You're needed over at hair and make-up," she said while pointing in a direction that lead to, I'm assuming, the hair and make-up station. "Show starts in 45 minutes," she added while pointing in another direction. The runway, I'm guessing. Then she walked away, presumably to give similar directions to the other models participating in the show.

Lyzzette let out a small squeal. "We're almost there! Mom would be so proud!"

I nodded and we walked off toward hair and make-up.

We were so close. But so very very far away...

.............

We nearly didn't find the damned door to the hair and make-up station because someone had decided to label the doors in cursive letters and what with our dyslexia it took us a good 3 minutes to decipher one label, only to realize that it wasn't the one we were looking for.

On our way we met up with another model, a young little Brit who couldn't be more than 16 years old, by the name of Camille Brooks who had a similar dilemma. In her case however she needed to find the accessories station for her shoes. She said she was also having problems with the labels because she was also dyslexic. Together we silently cursed whomever labeled these doors. We then pointed her to her station which we had passed only a few minutes before. She thanked us and said hair and make-up was four doors down; she'd just come from there.

After being done up with a good half-ton of make-up and sprayed with an amount of hair-spray that simply could not be healthy for the atmosphere, my sister and I stepped out looking like real supermodels. Lyzzette was squealing and, admittedly, I would've joined her except I had just noticed that one of the backstage security guards was rather odd.

I didn't like the feeling and I desperately wanted to ignore it, but I knew. That guard was not human. Demon. Monster. Call it what you will. All I knew was that I had to get Lyzzette and myself away from that spot before the guard spotted us with his big round eye.

Yes. Eye.

I managed to rush Lyzzette on to the accessories station to get our shoes.

It wasn't the first time I'd seen things like him. Not-human things. Girls with a donkey leg and a bronze leg. Men at least ten feet tall. They spelled one thing: trouble. We knew they were after us, that they wanted to hurt us. We knew because once, at a fashion shoot in Belgium, a giant had managed to get us. He'd tried to eat us. Eat us. We barely escaped with our lives. We knew it wasn't safe out here, but where else could we go? There was nowhere else to go.

And now the fashion show that could start off our careers as supermodels was a danger zone.

.............

We had gotten away just in time.

Just after we'd managed to walk the catwalk and perhaps set ourselves up we saw Camille coming up for her turn. She was wearing a grey and pink, bell-sleeved, empire-waisted, floor-lenght, double layered dress that hugged her trembling figure. She was shaking like a leaf and kept glancing toward her left. We walked over and wished her luck. But she just kept shaking. She was looking intently at her left, nearly petrified. Like a young doe faced with the barrel of a hunting rifle. I followed her gaze and nearly froze myself.

A one-eyed man. But it wasn't the one I'd seen earlier. Which only meant, there were two of them. I gulped. Lyzzette was tensed. Camille was still shaking. The one-eyed man was looking right at us with his one big crystal blue eye. It was Camille's trun on the catwalk.

"Go," I coaxed. "We will wait for you." She looked at me with big, beautiful blue eyes, absolutely terrified. "We won't let that one-eyed man hurt you." Her eyes widened. She grabbed my hand and squeezed it tightly.

Then she was out on the catwalk.

I turned to see Lyzzette having a staring contest with the one-eyed man. She hands were clenching and unclenching in a rhythm I didn't recognize, her black nails digging into her palms.

"Lyzz!" I hissed at her. She turned. "We have to leave. And we must take Camille with us."

Lyzzette's eyes widened. "We can't! She'll get hurt! We need to leave her alone so those things won't chase after her!" she hissed back.

"No," I said. "They'll still chase her. She can see them."

Just then Camille can back. Her stoic modeling mask fell and she clutched my arm like a life-line. "There's a giant! Right there with the crowd! It stared straight at me!"

My sister and I looked at each other and nodded. Together we said "We have to go". The three of us undressed as we rushed to our day clothes, trying not to stand out among the throngs of half-naked models and rushing stage assistants.

Somehow we got out of the building before those things, the two one-eyed men and the giant, could get us. But we didn't stay to celebrate. We hailed a taxi and drove to our hotel. Camille paid in euros. We retrieved our things from our rooms. I saw Lyzzette look out our hotel room's window; a beautiful view of the Po River.

I had a bad feeling this morning I might not see that view in daylight for a very very long time I was right. I was glad my sister and I had invested our morning looking out our window at the Po River instead of watching Italian Soaps.

We wouldn't have understood them anyways.

In case anyone was wondering, this takes place in Piacenza, Italy.

Part I is finished. I'll write Part II....tomorrow...maybe....
if ever....

*yawn*

Time of commence - 11:37 p.m. (May 21)

Time of completion - 12:48 p.m. (May 22)

....sleep...slepp...sleeap...slee.....pp....kfngvldzg.....zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.....

(May 22, 2:22 p.m.)
All kinds of reviews welcome, including flames! ^-^