Once upon a time…no…that's not quite right. Though, if it's not that, then how does this story begin? How does one begin a story to fantastical to be real, but too real and solid to be fantastical? Where even would the story itself begin?When the Goblin King first saw me? Maybe when we first met and he at least somewhat fell in love with my young self and gave me the promise that if I ever called, he'd be there to do my bidding, whatever it was that I wished at the time? Or perhaps later, when we meet again, when I have no recollection of having ever met him before? Yes, that sounds about right.
My story begins with a girl, completely in love with the idea of the fantastical, a girl who lived and breathed magic, or at least that of books and movies. Obviously, this is my story. The story of my meeting the Goblin King, and what became of that meeting. Do NOT confuse this story with Labyrinth. The chick in that movie was an idiot, who made all the wrong choices and said the wrong things. She was stupid and absolutely NOTHING like me. I suppose I should stop ranting and get on with the actual story now, shouldn't I?
It all started on my seventeenth birthday. I was sitting in my room, reading my latest addition to my fantasy book collection and listening to a new song I'd purchased from iTunes with my cat, Lestat de Lioncourt (Lestat for short). Should've been a happy day, right? I mean, birthdays are supposed to be all about the birthday girl/boy, right? Well, not this year and not for this girl. NEVER for this girl, unfortunately.
The book I was reading and song I was listening to I'd had to buy with my own money. All birthday plans got thrown out the window when my older sister got sick. She'd been sick this whole week. Now, yeah, my sister getting sick wasn't good, but you'd be a bit bitter too if this happened every time she got sick. Months of planning would be thrown away and forgotten just because big sis had the sniffles. Whenever I went to mention it to my parents, they'd always say something along the lines of 'oh, you're being so selfish' or 'how can you talk about that kind of thing when your sister is so ill?'
I hated it. I was the problem child and my sister was the angel. Never mind that I got perfect grades, did my chores, and more or less kept to myself by not making waves while my sister would go out drinking and come home with DUI's and speeding tickets. If that wasn't bad enough, she never had the money to pay for them, so mom and dad would generously give her the cash, which they'd been planning on using for something else, that she needed for the tickets. The worst of it is she's nineteen. She shouldn't even be drinking. But nooo I'm the bad one because I choose to express myself through dark clothes, dark poetry, fictional books, listening to rock and metal music from any era, and hanging out at Goth clubs.
I think part of the reason they hated me was the fact that I'm pale and have dark hair and green eyes, like my mom's sister. Not that Aunt Alice and my dad ever had an affair; I just didn't look the way they wanted me to look. My sister, on the other hand, was blond, blue eyed, and tan, just like them. She had a bubbly personality, bordering on airhead, or at least used to. No longer was she the sweet, yet stupid sister. Now she was mean and manipulative, caring only about herself and what she wanted. She smiled a lot with her perfect white teeth and wore borderline slut clothes when neither mom nor dad could see her. She always brought home the 'nice' men that only got horny when the 'oldies,' as they oftencalled mom and dad, left the room. I always brought home guy friends that wanted to either compare poetry, needed help coming up with lyrics for some song they were writing, wanted to play gory video games, or all three. Mom always walked in at the oddest times when they were over. I actually think she wanted to catch me doing something dirty, so I seemed more like a 'normal' girl. She was sorely disappointed.
I glanced at my watch, specially ordered, kind of old fashioned and cliché. It has skeleton arms in place of clock hands with a spider web as a background as the spider sits directly in the middle. The numbers were grinning skulls with glowing dots on their foreheads. I figured it was about time to go remind the people who created me, through means I'd rather not think about happening between them, that it was the day of my birth, and they did have some form of duty to me, whether they liked it or not.
I shut my book and pulled off my headphones, another cliché, bought from some anime site for Soul Eater, shaped like the skull headphones Justin Lawhas a habit of wearing. I stood up and smoothed my deep red skirt. I'm not normally privy to skirts, but on occasion when I'm looking to seriously annoy my parents, I'll go ultra-Goth. Skirts, corsets, and lacy old century crap. It really freaks them out, and they normally do whatever they have to to get me out of their sight. I wasn't quite all decked out, but it was enough to deeply disturb them. I motioned fo rLestat to follow me and walked out of my room, headed for the stairs. I stop at the top, compose myself, and then start down.
As I clomped down the stairs, I could hear my mother cooing to my sister that 'everything would be OK.' I rolled my eyes as I hit the bottom floor. My mother jerked around as my boot scollided heavily with the floor. She slowly took in my loose pony-tail held by a blood red ribbon, my black eyeshadow and lipstick, the long cross earrings dangling from my ears, the black leather jacket I was wearing, my skirt, and my big, black boots. Then her gaze snapped back up to my neck, where a necklace lay with a jeweled sword pendant. I self-consciously grabbed it. I'd had it for as long as I could remember, yet my parents had no clue where it came from. They claimed I'd just shown up one day after school with it on, and I'd refused to take it off. Lestat showed up a few years after that. Apparently, all bad things come in twos, or so my parents must think. Said cat was currently curling himself around my legs.
"What did you want, Bast?" she asked. The only, and I mean ONLY, cool thing about my parents is that they're obsessed with mythology, to the point of my father being a college proffesor about it, and my mother making money off tons of books about it. I was named after the Egyptian cat goddess, while my perky sister was named after the Greek goddess of love, Aphrodite. Go figure.
Speaking of Aphro, she was currently 'wilting' on the super expensive couch. We're not rich, but we do have money. So states all the expensive furniture and electronics that I swear have no meaning other than to sit somewhere and look important. I think it's all rather dull and boring.
"In case you forgot," I started dryly, "today is my birthday."
"No it's not. It's still a week away."
"Mom, since you obviously didn't get the memo, today is Halloween, therefor, today is my birthday." Yes, I was born on Halloween. It rocks.
"What? It can't be!" she exclaimed. She shot out of the room in search of her phone to confirm what I was already telling her. I was actually amazed to see her moving so quickly for something that had to do with me. She returned about a minute later, her face white.
"I'm so sorry, Bast. Your father and I completely forgot what day it is. I promise we'll make it up to you."
"Yeah, when?"
"Don't you use that tone of voice with me," she countered sharply. "We have been very busy with your sister. She's very sick and needs every moment of attention we can afford her…which doesn't…include tonight." She winced slightly and got a sheepish look on her face. I felt my eyes widen and my jaw go slack. They expected me to look after my sister! A starving tiger I could understand, but my sister? Were they insane? It was then that I noticed that my mother was wearing her most expensive dress, her diamond earrings and necklace, and her best shoes.
"Oh, no! No! I will NOT look after Aphro tonight. She hates me!"
"Don't call your sister that! Now, your father has a big dinner tonight, and a lot of important people are going to be there. He wants me to go with him. I can hardly say no. Please, will you for once in your life do what you're told to do?"
"What the hell else have I been doing? Oh, I guess it's not like I've gotten perfect grades all my life and more or less keep this house clean! Nope, never done that before, have I? Yes, I'm the problem child. I'm the one who goes drinking. Ibring home guys who knock me up so we have to go to an abortion clinic. I sleep with my teachers to get my grades up. Yes mom, it's been me, NOT Aphro whose done all those things. Yes, you caught me all those times."
"BAST!" Lestat hissed at her tone. My mother flinched.
"Do you know what? Fine. I'll look after priss. If I kill her though, it's your fault."
"Bast-"
"No, just go, have your fun. I'll stay home and play mom to the older sister. Go, GO! Not like I have life."
"Bast, now that's not fair."
"Oh, it isn't? Fine then, what's fair? Huh? WHAT…IS…FAIR? You say that to me all the time, I wonder what your basis for comparison is?"
"Stop yelling at me." Her lips started to tremble. I could not believe she was going to start crying.
"What is going on down here?" My father came storming down the stairs,
"Bast is getting an attitude because we want her to look after her sister for a few hours." My father's eyes snapped to me. He did the same as my mother, looking me over, and then pausing on the necklace. I stood my ground.
"Ugh," my sister groaned behind us. Mom and dad literally flew to her side. I rolled my eyes.
She gave a weak, fake sounding cough. "Please don't leave me," she pleaded.
"Oh honey, we have to. Bast will take care of you, though. We'll only be gone for a few hours, and then we'll be back."
"Ok." She gave them a 'strong' smile.
They fussed with her for a bit more, getting assured that she was really ok. Then they came and threatened to kill me if I didn't do every little thing my sister told me to do and a warning to keep my cat in line after he hissed at them. They then proceeded to go upstairs to finish getting ready. I was left alone with my pathetic, 'dying' sister.