PLEASE READ IF YOU'RE WAITING FOR UPDATES ON MY OTHER WORK!
I know I've been pretty lax for about the past year or so. Sorry readers, I really feel bad about that. To tell you the truth, I've lost most of the passion I had to write those stories. That doesn't mean I'm giving up. I just graduated high school, and I have promised myself that I will update each of my stories by the time to have to go to college.
My Long Lost Heaven and Our Little Miracles might be the easiest to update though, since I have most of the plot behind them developed. But I also hope to post the first chapter of a new story I've been writing, Wings of the Sea, by my birthday, August 9. I have probably the first ten – maybe – chapters of it done, just needing some proofreading and a little tweaking on the information downpour through the first chapters of it. If anyone wants to see how it's going so far, it's the 6th or 7th idea in my STORY IDEAS: PJO Edition posting. A lot of the stuff in there needs to be fixed or changed so it's not solid, and don't expect all of that to be the final product.
I might be about to update sooner if some followers, I don't know…review some ideas? Just give me some thoughts on what you've expected from what has happened so far, or what you want to happen. I usually don't like taking ideas from my reviewers because I want what I write to be work done on my own unless it's inspiration, but not direct ideas. But for some of these, I'm gonna have to go against my own beliefs.
PLEASE READ TO UNDERSTAND WHERE THESE CAME FROM!
I fell in love with Carrie Underwood's "Blown Away". I can lamely but proudly say I was blown away by this masterpiece. I've always loved Carrie Underwood's touching songs, and I think I might do more of them if I get the chance.
Anyway, just saying that there's a dream in this one-shot (which is basically the whole story), but in reality, it's too dreams from two different time periods merged together. If you can find the point at which the dream changes time periods (not that hard), you will get recognition in my next one-shot, plus the honor of a guarantee of me using some ideas that you may have for me.
ENJOY!
Word Count: 3,849
She looked down at her hands, covered in scratches and dirt, some small traces of blood here and there. She had spent the last three hours trying to clean up the mess her bad luck created.
She didn't ask for the monstrous creatures to come. She didn't ask for them to attack and destroy. And she most definitely didn't ask for her half-brothers to get hurt.
It wasn't her fault they're babies and couldn't get to safety, it wasn't. She was perfectly minding her own business looking at the people remodel buildings and houses on the big TV. The things came out of nowhere and the twins were in their playpen off to the side, at least ten feet away from her spot on the couch.
Daddy was in his office, working on his army toys. Helen was baking in the kitchen not too far away. The babies in their pen whacking each other with their rattles. And her just sitting there, being the obedient child she was, not causing stress or chaos, not making a mess or destroying anything. Barely even making a sound.
Then they came crashing through the bay window, glass shattering and flying everywhere. Two screams of distress joined in the symphony of cracking and roars of terror. A shout sounded down the hall and fast footsteps came from above.
Without much thought, she had grabbed a shard and threw it as hard as her short and weak arms could, yellow dust exploding at the sound of impact.
"Oh My God!" came the shrill voice of her step-mother behind her as she tried to calm her harsh breathing and racing heartbeat. She looked around at the glittering mess all over the living room floor, the gaping hole in the wall – leaving plenty of new space for floor-to-ceiling windows, her inner architect suggested – the crashed TV lying on the covered floor, with the screen cracked and blank. But when she turned, something much more important caught her eye.
Helen was holding in her arms, two baby boys with blood dripping from one's arm and the other's leg. She was trying to calm them down even though she was barely calm herself. Before she could even consider healing the twins, her mind was already looking for someone to blame. With a rise of head, she turned her eyes to the little blonde girl standing in the middle of the chaos. She was bloody in some places from impaling from the glass, covered in a yellow substance, and panting in post-trauma panic. A tear escaped the girl's big gray eyes as she looked on at three of the four members of her family.
"You!" Helen shouted, her twin children whimpering in fear of her outburst. She didn't care that the girl didn't directly harm her babies. She didn't care that the girl was bleeding and probably going to experience a panic attack.
It was because she was here that they came!
And so the young girl was forced to clean the mess, with little help from her father, as she was told she was the cause of it. She healed her own wounds, they wouldn't do it. She cleaned her own body, they wouldn't assist her. She brought herself up to her bedroom, no one was going to guide her.
"What are we going to do about her, Fredrick? She's bringing all those things here, and they won't stop coming!" she heard Helen complain to her daddy – father – from in their bedroom. They had forgotten to close the door all the way, the same way they do almost every night, because they always argue…about her.
"What do you mean 'what are we going to do about her'? I don't exactly like that her presence makes them come either. I don't exactly like the thought of the boys getting hurt either. But we can't just throw her to the wolves. If I could, I'd find a way to solve this problem. At the moment, it's sending her away…not that I've considered it…yet…"
Those words stung. He wasn't directly saying he didn't want her. But he might as well say he didn't care for her. If she was right, and according to the shows she's watched and movies she's viewed, a father should be trying to work around the problems, because he loves his daughter so very much, not trying to get rid of what he believes the problem is. Which in this case was, her.
The little girl ran for her room and slammed the oak door shut. She was usually a very mentally and emotionally strong girl. Strange for her age, they said. But she could not help the sobs and the tears, the trembling of her small body as she lay down in her small bed. The seven year old was heartbroken beyond repair, not even her books or her favorite teddy bear could heal her now. But she tried.
She grabbed hold of that stuffed animal, and she held it tight like it was her life-line. But the soft brushing of the false fur couldn't stop the sobs from ripping through her. She recited facts she remembered from those information shows and those science specials, but the tears continued to stain her tanned cheeks. She pictured big buildings, a city, all designed by herself, but a lock of her curly blonde hair fell before her eyes and the images were obstructed, not that they were helping much.
"Well…we have to do something about it!" a voice shouted and she brought her hands up to her ears. But even her hands couldn't block out the sound of the thunder outside as the scheduled storm finally made its debut. Thunder roared outside the safe confines of her room. But the shouts and the cries of her family weren't exactly safe themselves. They reminded her of the reality of being sent away, she didn't want that. They weren't the best, most definitely not, but they were better than nothing…maybe.
Lightning flashed outside her window and she flinched as the light illuminated the small room, vanquishing the dark. But only literally, it couldn't light the metaphorical darkness that shrouded this family. A harsh blast of wind hit the side of her house and made her whimper as more shouts joined in with the booms of the blows taken against the walls of the small two floor house. These winds could become strong enough to rip the house apart, leaving no walls standing. But even these strong currents of wind could not blow down the walls she built within herself because of the vicious words and glares she's received for so long.
She eventually cried herself to sleep to the sound of the thunder storm. Her body could not handle the trembling, the uncontrolled breathing…it gave in to unconsciousness. The window of her room rattled as winds kept blowing and the dark room continued to light up as lightning kept flashing. The gray sky roared and rumbled as she fell into a deep sleep. One only caused by hurt.
She opened her storm gray eyes to the four walls that made up the living room – she refused to call it the family room. She didn't know what she was doing there, what time of day it was, why she was just sitting there. No one was around, not her father, not her step-mother, not even the twins. She was just there, kneeling on the floor with her teddy by her side. Lightning flashed behind her, lighting up the room through the bay window, and the few lights that were on went out. She yelped in fright and held her teddy close to her chest.
She didn't know what this was, or why she was there, she just wanted to leave. She wanted to escape this scene. Lightning flashed again, but this time for a reason. A scene started to play around her. It was faint and fading, but it happened before. It was of her and her father sitting on the couch next to the bay window. He was telling her how she had to stop acting up in school. She kept denying that she did what those darn teachers said she did. But he kept pushing her to tell the truth, to just admit she did it and promise she wouldn't do it again. But she didn't do it!
He started raising his voice just as the sound of thunder shook the very house. She whimpered as she watched the image of her father standing up to the image of herself. His image was shouting as hers was crying and denying, swearing she never did what they said. She would never. Her arms practically strangled her teddy as his image grabbed her image's arm in a tight grip and hulled her to her feet. The wind grew stronger and stronger as he shouted louder and louder. She covered her ears as she watched herself cry and try to make him release his grip. When he was about to drag her image away, the winds finally won their battle against the glass and the windows blew in. The image disappeared as the glass flew in and decorated the carpet floor. She shouted.
The house shook as the wind rushed in and destroyed the inner workings of it. More images of times when she was wrongly accused flashed before her as more lightning lit up the scene. Each was worse than the previous one as they kept going on and on. She could only crumble to the floor in sobs and hold her teddy tighter and tighter.
Windows were breaking, doors were hanging off the hinges as they flapped back and forth in the harsh currents. Curtains were flying as they desperately tried to stay attached to the windows and walls. Plates, cups, and pans from the kitchen were riding a tornado that crashed through the side of the house. Knives and forks that had joined in the fray were being embedded into the walls and the furniture. She caved in on herself as the winds blew her curly blonde hair around her small figure. She hugged her knees to her chest as rain came down, pouring on the wrecked structure.
A strip of the wall to her right ripped away and flew over her head, just missing her by an inch, and flew into an image of her parents shouting and arguing. Their enraged expressions were terrifying enough to scare her more than the storm, even after the wall made them disappear.
Soon she was surrounded by dozens of copies of her father and step-mother as they yelled down at her form, the wreckage around them failing to make them crumble and disappear. She rocked back and forth as the shouts got worse and worse.
"It's all your fault!"
"I never should have accepted you!"
"You're the reason they're hurt!"
"Your mother should take you back!"
"You evil child!"
"You worthless girl!"
"Look what you did!"
"Why are you my daughter?"
"Why do we tolerate you?"
"Get out!"
"Get out!"
"Leave!"
"Never come back!"
"I never loved you!"
She cried in heartbreak as her father's angered eyes glared down at her. She never wanted this. She never deserved this. More rain poured down as they shouted and shouted, each shout louder than the one before it. Their yells almost drowned out the sound of the falling walls and the breaking windows. A shard of glass was what disrupted the noise.
A shard of glass passed by her cheek, cutting it a centimeter deep. The images of her parents slowly faded as the storm seemed to calm. The winds died down as the thunder stopped sounded completely. Lightning stopped flashing, leaving the world around her dark. But the scene was just lit up enough for her little hand to reach up to her face and touch the wounded area. She pulled back her finger to see bright red blood. It was then she noticed this was the first splash of color she's seen since she appeared here.
She looked around at the gray wreck that was her house. She looked back down at the red substance of life on her fingers. She wiggled them slowly as she watched the red drip from or down them. She watched as a drop fell in slow motion down and landed on a shattered picture frame. In the picture was her family, they were smiling and the babies were sleeping. She was standing by her step-mother, who was sitting on a chair with the twins in her arms. Her father was behind her with his hands on her shoulders.
She frowned at the picture. There were two cracks that crossed her face in an 'X'. She would normally hate that only her face was ruined, especially with all the cracks across the glass. But she never actually felt like part of the family, even when they had taken this picture and it happened to be a good day for them. No attacks, nor arguing, no accidents. But what stopped her from truly feeling happy that day, and now, was the fact that she knew one good day wouldn't heal the wounds inflicted and ones to come.
She looked away from the frame and carefully stood up on shaking knees. With one steady step forward, she started walking around the room. Her bare feet felt the shards that were scattered around. She looked around to see knives and forks stuck in the walls. In some spots, they formed images and words on the walls. Some were of broken hearts, some of the words 'Stop' and 'No', some were piercing pictures in the walls. The ones that were up, anyway. Most of the walls were completely destroyed and lying across the floor, covered in other debris.
She walked by a ripped up couch, a crumbled television set, kitchen supplies sprinkled around like confetti, personal belongings that could barely be recognized. She just observed the destruction as she strolled through, walking to the – surprisingly – still standing front door. She didn't pay much attention to the small trickle of blood down her cheek, or the glass cutting into the soles of her feet, or the feel of the wreckage fading away with each step behind her.
She came to the door, and grabbed the knob. Taking a deep breath, wondering if her parents – if they were anywhere close by – would stop her. She tightened her grip and starting twisting, but met resistance. It was not that the knob wouldn't turn, or the door was locked, or it was lodged too tight into the walls that seemed to close in on it.
"Look what you did!"
"I never loved you!"
Her hand stilled at the voices that echoed through her mind. But with another deep breath, she was able to push them away. She wasn't going to live under their hurtful words. She wanted to be free, she wanted someone to love her, she wanted someone of her own that wouldn't leave her. She wanted something stable and permanent, like the buildings she's always dreamed of designing. She really wanted that.
She smiled, a true smile, as she imagined it. With a small giggle at the thought, she turned the knob and the door opened. The gray faded away to bring in color, light lit up everything, sounds of joy surrounded her. The darkness was gone, the destruction disappeared, the pain faded away. She blinked a few times as a hand came reaching out of the bright light.
She didn't know why, but she wanted to grab that hand. Something inside her was telling her that that hand would change her life. And it would be for the better. And so she raised her hand…and reached out.
As her hand reached for the hand, images flew by her. One of her running away. Another of her meeting two people that became very close to her, her new family. Then she was running, and she was home. She lost some love ones as the visions flashed by. But she found new friends, and she never forgot the old. The figure the arm belonged to began to blur into sight.
As the figure cleared up more and more, the visions flew by faster. Her and two friends running, swimming, laughing, playing. A beautiful big cruise ship, a huge library filled to the brim with books, comforting arms wrapped around her, a golden warmth as someone called her a genius. Music and dancing, falling, intense pain, relief at the sight of a familiar face, her dad coming in for the rescue. A redhead rival, dark tunnels, mechanical creatures, an evil flash of heat, a soft kiss from someone special, tears and broken hearts, flying blue hairbrushes. Fighting and strategy, pain and green poison, scrunched up eyebrows that made cute expressions, loss and gain of friends and family, sheer satisfaction at a dream come true, bright and loving sea green eyes.
The figure was coming into focus: black hair, green eyes, tan skin, tall stature.
The images were breezing by at this point. Happy smiles and joyful kisses, complete panic at the impossible, countless sleepless nights, exploding joy at the sight of someone found, more fighting and more death, celebration, teasing jokes and tired nights, piles of books and synced tassels, cheesy compliments followed by bright smiles and a diamond ring, long white trains and flying rice, passionate flames and pink lines, worth-it pain and a small hand clutching on, smelly encounters and pride in the sound of tiny footsteps, family hugs and mornings kisses from the one with those eyes, running of fingers through black hair and whining troublesome twos, surprise and preparation, ecstatic little forms and colorful latex, need for a break and warm darkness.
The figure came completely into focus as her hand fell gently into the other. But her hand looked different. It wasn't small, and there was no blood. But it was slender and feminine, and there was a beautiful diamond ring with another golden band on her ring finger. She slowly brought her eyes up to the figure to meet sea green eyes. A man in his late twenties with windswept black hair and a mischievous expression, smiled down at her in amusement. He chuckled at her confused expression and tightened his grip on her hand gently. He looked straight into her storm gray eyes with his sea green ones.
"Time to wake up sleepy-head."
"Annabeth? Wise Girl? Lani's waiting, you know…" she opened her eyes, blinking a few times, to see familiar green eyes.
"Percy? How long have I've been sleeping?" she asked as she straightened up in the white wooden rocking chair she had slept in. Those green eyes shined in amusement as she stretched across the limited space of the chair.
"Not long…just three hours." he smiled as she shot up and looked up at him with wide gray eyes.
"Three hours!" she rushed out of the chair as she ran into the nearest bathroom, just outside the room and across the hall. Looking into the mirror at the reflection of curly blonde hair in a mess on the head of a tan woman in her late twenties with panicked gray eyes and slightly drooping eyelids. She hurried to comb her hair down with her fingers and wash her tired face with cool water. She didn't stop her rushing until her finger caught in her hair.
"Oh come on!" she hissed as she tried to untangle it. Percy walked up beside her and helped out as he explained.
"It might've been three hours, but it's only twelve. I gave Lani her turkey sandwich lunch, fed Skai his formula milk since you were sleeping, and Rachel, Piper, and Hazel helped with the decorations. No one else is even here." he pulled out her finger, realizing it was her wedding ring that had gotten caught, and turned her around. He put two strong hands on her shoulders, "Calm down, Mama Bear. Kailani's birthday party isn't ruined…yet!" he smiled, hoping to get a smile out of the worrying blond.
"Sorry, I guess I do need to calm do-…what do you mean by 'yet'?" she asked, praying for anything except bad news.
"Well," he smiled sheepishly as he brought a hand to the back of his head, "Nico and Frank might be a little late with the cake and…Leo might have told a number of people the party's tomorrow because of a supposed rumor he heard…But it's okay! I called everyone and they're coming…maybe…" he looked at her with another sheepish smile and a sorrowful look in his eyes. She just looked at him with a blank expression as her shock and anger built up inside. It was ready to explode, and she couldn't hold it…
"WHAT!"
The party turned out great in the end. Their friends all came, all with their own children, and their presents for the birthday girl. The now three year old Kailani really liked that part. She held a sleeping baby boy with black hair in her arms as the blond three year old closed her sea green eyes to think of a wish. It was night now in their Hawaiian home, the only lights were from inside the cozy two floor house and the tiki torches Percy had set up as the sun began to set.
She looked around at her friends, singing happy birthday and smiling at the cute expression her baby girl made as she scrunched up her face, eyes closed. She looked to one side to see her dad and his wife, Helen, both smiling at their granddaughter. She smiled because it's been years now since they've settled their family problems and they've been close ever since. Her twin – and newly legal – half-brothers were rooting Kailani along, telling her to wish them a new car. She chuckled at their antics, and giggled even more as Kailani came out of her wishing mode to glare at her uncles with those inherited green eyes. She learned that glare from her mother.
Looking down at the almost six month old baby boy in her arms, she brought up a hand to caress his small head, waking him up from his light sleep. She smiled down at the gray eyes that so accurately matched her own. An arm wrapping around her waist brought her eyes up to another pair of green eyes.
"Everything turned out okay, didn't it?" he asked with a small smile. She nodded and looked back at the party-goers.
"Everything turned out perfect." she whispered as she watched friends and family clap in celebration and a blond head disappear into a blue Little Mermaid cake. The laughing and cheers of joy, the warmth of the torch lights, and cuddling of a precious baby into her chest. It was all perfect and everything she ever dreamed of. Stable – or at least slightly, this was her family – and permanent – oh so very permanent.
And boy was she blown away by the beauty of it.
Hope you enjoyed this. Took me about fifteen minutes last night and an hour or so today to write. Anyway, just some things I have to ask of my readers (you don't have to but it's appreciated):
-Please check out the two STORY IDEAS Editions I have posted up. The PJO one has my next project in it and others ideas you guys might want to use. The General one has other ideas from a lot of different works (Inuyasha, Hellboy, Avatar, Toy Story, Ninja Assassin, etc.) that you guys might like.
-Please visit my weby-site. The URL is posted on my profile and also right here www . beautyandthebeast101575 . weebly . com
It has all kinds of things that I would explain here if it wasn't already on my profile page, so check that out.
-Give me some songs you like or ideas you have to write one-shots. It could be any of the kinds of stories I write about or read, doesn't matter, though if they are geared towards certain pairings, can't guarantee I'll be about to do it. I don't hate other shippings, I just don't like getting too far out of my comfort zone. But really, it would probably help me with repairing my imagination. It's been falling apart since last year when SATs started. College is the true reason for my writer's block.
Even if you're not interested in doing any of that, just at least visit the website. It won't take too much of your time so please.
Forever Day-Dreaming,
-Jenn
