Hello there. My name is Kiwi and I only say this since I am now posting in a category that I have not posted in before and I have the potential to get new readers. :)
I had a poll on my profile asking which kind of category should I write a story for and those who voted chose "Rise of the Guardians". So this is my answer to that result. Came up with the idea for this story when I was actually watching the movie. This chapter is kind of an introduction to my OC (she's the cover image for this story), but the Guardians will come in soon. I promise. Please enjoy.
Chapter One: Welcome to Inlet
The van took another sharp turn around one of the winding corners of the road. A girl with brunette hair let out a long sigh, her right elbow resting on the thin bit of solid material between the window of the vehicle and the arm rest. Mountains flew by, covered in the rich green pine trees of the north. They were dusted with the faintest bit of snow, glistening like diamonds in the high afternoon sun. This was the last place in the world that the teenager wanted to be.
"Trista, can you please try to look on the bright side of things?" her mother chastised with a tired tone. The pair had been driving for days in the dark blue minivan that was filled to the brim with cardboard boxes. Driving from San Jose all the way up to New York was not the most glamorous trip; especially when your destination was up in the mountains.
Ignoring her mother's words, Trista continued to gaze out of the slightly dirty window. A lake lay down below, off of the side of the road. The only thing separating the moving vehicle from the icy clutches of the cold water was a flimsy, metal guard rail. Trista shivered at the thought of plunging into the water and was relieved when the scenery was replaced by yet another mountainside. Why did she have to move up here in the middle of nowhere? All of her friends were back home in California.
Sighing, Trista's mother attempted to start up another conversation. "You know, living up here won't be as bad as you think it will. It's almost December and the snow will begin falling even more next month." Her words had no effect on the melancholy fourteen year old girl. This was becoming tedious and hopeless. "Hey, did you know they have trails all over the mountains where you can snow mobile once the snow reaches over two feet? Won't that be fun?"
"No, I don't think that will be fun" Trista spit, instantly regretting her harsh tone. The last thing she wanted to do was begin an argument with her mother, but the brunette could not hide her contempt towards the move. "I don't want to live up here, mom. I don't like the snow or cold. Why would we move away from the nice, warm weather of California to live in this God forsaken place?" She crossed her sleeved arms over her chest and turned her brown eyes away from the side window and towards the windshield. A sign zipped by the vehicle quickly and Trista's heart dropped when she deciphered the fading writing that adorned the old wood.
Welcome to Inlet.
The van began its journey downward, over a small hill. Small shops and restaurants lined the street, their signs all switched to open. Winter hours of operation were tacked up on the door with nothing but simple tape. Her mother turned the corner, allowing Trista a few of the sorry excuse for the park that was hidden among the trees on the right side of the street. Young children in long sleeved shirts and pants ran around wildly, spinning on the merry-go-round and flying down the metal slides. There was no way Trista was ever going to step foot in that place. She was too old for such frivolous things.
"Doesn't that look like fun, honey?" her mother asked in a sing-song tone. The van continued its journey up and down the road before making another sharp turn down a fork in the road. Trista braced herself against the momentum that was forcing her against the door. She ignored her mother once again, rolling her eyes at the idea of having fun in this small town.
"Yeah, welcome to Inlet" the teenager huffed, "population three hundred". Honestly, why did anyone live out here? It was in the middle of nowhere and was over a hundred years old. Everything was ancient and dilapidated. Well, perhaps that was a bit of an exaggeration, but Trista still did not want to make Inlet her place of residence.
Suddenly, the car came to a halt, knocking the brunette back to reality. She blinked rapidly as she took in the house that lay before her. It was stark white, the entirety of the structure made from bleached wood. No sign of weathering or damage at all. The home was two stories tall with a pointed roof, indication that there was an attic hidden within. Each shingle looked brand new, the deep black hue absorbing the faint rays of sunlight that broke through the clouds. A few snowflakes floated lazily down from the sky, landing on the roof.
The place was not half bad, better than Trista was originally anticipating. It would have been the perfect home had it not been for the location. No matter how much the teenager tried to look on the bright side or was distracted by the sheer beauty of her new home there was one thing that clawed at the back of her mind. She was still living in Inlet. With a sigh, Trista unlatched the lock on the car door and stepped out into the dead grass. It crunched beneath her fur lined boots, making her frown deeply.
"This is home!" her mother called out, obviously excited. She slammed the driver's door shut and made her way over to the trunk. With a small grunt of effort, the woman managed to lift the door and watched as two cardboard boxes slid off of the giant pile and onto the concrete driveway. "Trista, honey, can you please pick those up for me?"
With a sigh, Trista advanced towards her mother, bending over briefly to procure the two boxes from the ground. They were surprisingly light and she lifted them with almost no effort. What could be inside? Curiosity consuming her, Trista left her mother's side and walked over towards the front of the house. Three wooden stairs led up to the deck that wrapped around the front and left side of the home. She took a seat on the middle one, placing the boxes on the step just below her.
The package on top was obviously the first to be opened. Trista ripped off the flimsy packing tape that her mom had been too scatterbrained to properly put on and unfolded the corrugated flaps of cardboard. A bunch of framed pictures lay within and it made the teenager wonder why it had been so light. There were pictures of Trista when she was much younger, standing on a beach with an awful sunburn and one where she was perched atop her father's shoulders.
Trista missed her father. She had not had the opportunity to see him much after the divorce. He had moved way up here to the mountains, far away from his only daughter. That was another factor about the move that was not all that bad. Trista's father lived only fifteen minutes away in Eagle Bay, residing in a lake house that sat on the edge of Big Moose Lake. She would have the opportunity to see him more often than ever. In the past six years the girl had only seen her father twice. Giving a small smile, Trista closed the box and set it down next to her.
She now turned her attention to the second one that lay before her. This box was sealed tighter, the tape not yielding to Trista's efforts. Scrunching up her face in defeat, the fourteen year old placed the difficult package on top of the one full of portraits. Her mother was slowly approaching, a tower of boxes tipping precariously back and forth in her arms. "Can you take the keys from my hand and open the door please, Trista?" she called out, her face completely hidden from sight.
"I'm coming" the brunette replied, getting to her feet and covering the distance between the steps and her mom. She grabbed the keys that were dangling loosely from the key ring on her mother's index finger. A cold wind whipped down the street and Trista shivered terribly. She was never going to get used to this weather; never.
Angry now about the frigid conditions that she was forced to live in, Trista stomped up the stairs and across the porch. She shoved the key into the lock above the doorknob and turned it roughly, pushing the door open after she felt the thin piece of metal click against the locking mechanism.
The musty scent of dust greeted her. Motes of dust lazily floated through the air, illuminated by the sunlight that streamed through wide window in the foyer. The entryway of the home was huge, with an ornate brass chandelier hanging directly above where Trista currently stood. Every wall was made from dark chestnut wood, the knots and rings clearly visible in the polished product. There were two stairways, one on each side of the room that led up to a long balcony area that formed an alcove where a furnished living room sat.
"Wow" Trista breathed. "This house is so beautiful." She left the front door open and hurriedly threw the keys on a small table near the door. All of the furniture in the house was covered in thick, white sheets. Trista tore one off of what appeared to be a sofa. Dust flew into the air, making the girl cough uncontrollably. The furniture that lay underneath seemed ancient, but alluring at the same time. Floral patterns adorned the sofa, twisting this way and that. Each flower a different shade of yellow or orange. It contrasted the dark burgundy background color which was crisscrossed with the faintest traces of white thread. The flowers almost looked as if they were becoming consumed by frost and ice. "Mom, how did you find this house?" Trista called out, her gaze still focused on the piece of furniture.
There was a loud thud as Trista's mother dropped her load of boxes on the wooden floor. "It's part of the family" she answered happily, clapping her hands together. "This house has belonged in my family line for as long as I can remember. I used to vacation up here in the summer sometimes with my grandparents, but for some reason your grandparents stopped coming up." She placed a hand on her daughter's shoulder before continuing. "When I found out that my grandparents left it for me I figured it would be the perfect place to live."
"Well it's really awesome" Trista smiled, turning to face her mom. The teenager could see her reflection in her mother's glasses. She looked frail and thin, the mole underneath her right eye standing out against her somewhat pale skin tone. Trista absentmindedly pushed the side bangs that hung down above her right eye behind her ear and sighed when they fell back into place. She did not wish to have bangs anymore, but the pieces of hair were too short to tuck behind her ear. Trista would have to clip them against her scalp tomorrow. "If we have to live in this awful place at least I'll be able to hide in this nice house."
Pulling her daughter into a hug, Trista's mother sighed. "You have to give Inlet a chance, sweetie" she stated, giving the teenager several pats on the back. "Why don't you head upstairs and look at your bedroom?"
Trista pulled away and nodded, bounding towards the staircase on the left side of the room. It was covered in what seemed to be plush carpet, the color matching that of the sofa in the living room. She jumped up on the first stair and watched as a cloud of dust rose from beneath her feet. Okay, this house was going to be a great place to live once everything was all dusted off and cleaned up. How long had this place been empty anyways? Her mother had not been specific on the details. Shrugging her shoulders, Trista took the stairs two at a time until she was on the balcony overlooking the main room on the first floor. With a small wave down to her mother, she continued down the hallway on the right side of the house.
A door lay slightly ajar at the end of the small hallway. The brunette felt slightly claustrophobic as she made the journey between the wooden walls. Poking her head around the door, Trista found that the room was indeed a bedroom. A small twin size bed lay in the corner of the room, the right side pushed up against the wall. Brass twisted around itself to form the intricately decorated headboard and Trista approached it carefully, taking a seat on the old pink comforter that was strewn over top of the mattress.
Besides the bed there was a chest of drawers on the other side of the window that lay in the middle of the back wall. Trista could almost look out of it if she leaned off of the bed and craned her neck hard to the right. She would have to move the bed closer if she wanted to watch the stars while she slept. Across from her, near the entrance to the room was a bureau with an old and dirty mirror. That would definitely have to be cleaned up as soon as possible.
Trista hopped off the bed and listened as the old floor boards beneath her boots creaked and groaned. The teenager made her way across the room where two doors sat. They had small knobs made of polished oak that did not turn. Trista pulled on the doors and watched as they folded open along tracks in the floor and ceiling. It was a closet, full of nothing but empty wire hangers. Then Trista saw something else. Curious, she reached out for the object and gasped when she realized what it was.
She was holding a small brown teddy bear.
Some of the fur was thinning from age and one of the ears was missing, but she recognized it immediately. It was her stuffed animal. Quickly, the teenager ran from the room and sprinted down the staircase. "Mom" she yelled, a wide grin spread across her face, "look what I found in my bedroom! I found an old toy of mine!" Trista almost tripped coming down the final stair. She regained her balance on the first floor and made her way over towards her mother. "Mom, look, it's my old teddy bear."
"Your old teddy bear?" Trista's mom asked, obviously puzzled by what her daughter was presenting her. She took the animal in her hands and examined it closely, running a finger along the balding area between the back of the bear's head and torso. "Honey, you've never owned a stuffed toy like this" she answered plainly, handing the bear back to Trista.
The girl took the brown bear and hugged it close. "Yes, I did!" Trista argued, feeling sad that her mother did not believe her. "I used to carry this thing around with my everywhere until I was about five. We used to have picnics in the woods and I would play in my room with it." Her mother's blank expression angered her. This was her old teddy bear! It had kept her company so long ago when there was no one to play with but herself. "I haven't seen this bear in forever" Trista finished.
"Trista, that bear is not yours. You never had a teddy bear like that ever." She used the back of her hand to feel the girl's forehead. "You don't have a fever or anything, but are you feeling alright?"
Frowning, Trista backed away from her mother. "No, this is my old toy" she breathed, utterly confused. Why did her mother not remember it? She could remember playing with it all the time and it was obvious by the condition the toy was in. Frustrated, Trista turned away and ran back up the stairs and down the small hallway. She flopped stomach first onto the bed spread and let out a big sigh. The bear in her arms felt familiar, so why was her mother saying it was not?
A cold chill whipped through the room, shocking the girl. Trista glanced at the window that was slightly open. Had she opened it? She could not remember. With wide eyes, she left the bear on the bed and went to shut the window. It took a lot of force and Trista was using all of her upper body strength to close the window. Once she heard the bottom of the frame hit the wood she relaxed, feeling all of the tension in her arms and shoulders instantaneously dissipate. Her brown eyes scanned the forest behind her house and fell upon a doe that was grazing on the dying grass. It was kind of nice, being so close to nature. She would never had seen a deer back out in California.
Trista leaned against the wall and watched the forest animal eat its meal, awestruck by the beauty of it; not noticing the frost that was slowly creeping its way down from the left corner of the closed, glass window.
What do you think? Was it okay? If you have questions about anything feel free to PM me. Sorry if it wasn't very good. Kind of branching out of my comfort zone since I'm so use to writing for Ninjago. Reviews are enjoyed and appreciated.
Thanks for reading and, hopefully, come back to read some more in the future. :)