Hello Everyone. Site's been a little quiet as of late, so i thought why not submit my own addition to this amazing fandom?
Chapter One
Emily jars and quickly minimizes the webpage at the sound of heels glockenspielling towards her room. She drops her elbows from their half-arsed lean on her desk and clasps her hands in her lap, waiting for the familiar croak that the hinge of her bedroom door makes. When it doesn't sound soon enough, she rolls her eyes and nears her hand back towards the mouse, its cursor slow, no cautious, with its glide towards the minimized webpage living in the screen's taskbar.
Jenna bursts in, drops a basket brimming with clothes to the carpet, and Emily tears her fingers from her mouse in such haste that they meet her lap with a small thwap. She throws a sideward eye towards her mother, shakes her head, and sighs in that overly obvious way that people do when biting their tongue so hard that it erupts with sweet, metallic, crimson cells.
Jenna raises her eyebrows. "What was that?"
"Nothing mum."
The unspoken that's what I thought lingers heavy as Jenna lets her hand down from her hip and returns her brows to normal elasticity, bending to viciously snatch various items of dirty clothing from the floor. "Nothing is exactly what you've been contributing to this household. You don't do anything," She says, a collective of black hair strands falling out from behind her ear, as she flings a pair of faded SpongeBob SquarePants socks to the basket. "Whilst I run around like a mad woman trying to keep this family housed, fed and clothed." Her hand slings itself at the overflowing bin. "I mean just look at the state you keep this room in."
The younger girl sighs, cups her pale forehead in her palm and closes her eyes. "Mum –"
Jenna throws her hand up with force likely to tear air's very fabric. "No! Your dad and I have spoken about it and you're going to come and work at the office with me, starting Monday. You're nineteen now; it's time you started to learn the ways of the world instead of hiding in here all the bloody while."
Like a twister spinning off to terrorize another town, Jenna hikes the basket full of clothes under her arm and slams the door on her way out, the papers on a nearby cabinet twitching before silently floating to the floor.
Emily waits a while, then comes out from behind her hand. Glances at her bedroom door, gives it five more seconds – just to be safe – before she slips her palm over her mouse and clicks the page she'd been ogling before her mother's heels came into earshot.
Dicked. Org
The page expands to fill the entirety of the screen and once again she's face to face with hard abs, buttocks, bulging pecs and well, other hard man parts.
She feels nothing.
Absolutely nothing, and that's when she squeezes her eyes shut, re-opens them to phantom stars, and once more focuses on the lewd images in front of her, as though her honey brown eyes are the problem. They're not, she soon deduces, pressing the pad of her thumb to the monitor's stand-by button in conclusion. "Fuck." She sighs. "You're as gay as a window."
It would explain so much, the nothingness she always feels around supposedly 'hot' guys, whilst every other female in the room falls to their knees with a floorward jaw, the sudden excitement that often plagues her core when a pretty woman graces the TV screen. How she's not caught onto her blatant homosexual tendencies before is almost algebra to her, except it's not because it's not like she's experienced that crucial teenage stop-out phase. The phase that sharpens street smarts, teaches you how your peers work, and lets one in on how much alcohol one can guzzle before stomach acid and half digested food soars up one's throat. The phase where one really starts to learn who they are through friends, crushes, lovers and whoever else. Emily's always kept to herself, excruciating shyness robbing from her the choice of nodding, "Yes. I will meet you at the park after school."
College was the same, before she packed it in, and now it's like she's behind on learning who she is and what her preferences are.
A short succession of seconds later, Katie barges in, leans in the doorway sending something noisy back and forth over her nails.
"Mum's downstairs fuming.''
"Yeah well, she's always moaning about something, isn't she?"
"She's right though, Em. You, like, need to start doing something with your life. No use hiding away in here all the time."
It sounds like concerned sisterly advice to Emily's ears, but it feels a whole lot different, like an attack. Like confirmation that her whole family sit and drag her name through shit whenever she disappears behind the door of her room. She sighs deeply. "Katie please, don't come in here and pretend to care. I'm seriously not in the mood. Mom's set me up with some crappy job at her office, so now I'm going to have to –"
"What, mix with other humans?"
Emily's eyes lose their hazel glint for the water that suddenly surfaces them. She looks to her Powerpuff Girls duvet, thumbs the fabric absently.
"Stop being such a baby, grow some balls, and go out there and face life. Like, you should be grateful mum got you the job. It'll get you out the house, put a bit of experience in your back pocket, and you'll be getting paid for it – not that you'll need the money for anything other than Chinese takeaway, since you never leave the house."
The entire computer desk trembles as Emily jabs the power button built into the hard drive. "Finished?" She croaks through a throat swimming with unshed tears, shakes her head. "Look," She mumbles, fiddles with her fraying nail. "Just, leave me alone."
She reaches across her dresser, lifts a deep viridian bow to the side of her head. One glance in the mirror and she shakes her head at what she's certain is a vision of ineptitude, sighs, sending the little accessory skidding along the wood of her dresser with an exasperated flick.
She stares down her reflection. "Stop being such a baby. They're just..." She peers down, before braving herself again. "They're just people. What's the worst that could happen?"
Her thoughts wander back to primary school. Miss Callenberg's class. They'd circled her, menacing, like a gang...
"Why did I have to have you as a partner?" Ellie Mchumphery huffed, snatching the half-coloured cardboard door from Emily's grasp. "You're totally useless Fitch."
"You aint wrong there Elle. So, Fitch, why you always by yourself? Is it 'cause you're useless, or 'cause ya think you're too good to mix with us?"
"She don't think anythin' of the sort, do ya Emilykins?"
Emily quickly shook her head, kept her eyes down. Knew better than to make eye contact with Oliver Leonards and his various disciples.
"We're friends aren't we Emily?" He beamed, squeezing an arm much too tight around her shoulders. She flinched, before quickly nodding, then subtly tried to shrug him off.
"So if we're friends," The boy smirked, re-affirming his arm around her for an even tighter grip. "You'll give meee..." He paused his drawl to peer up at the ceiling, and he took his finger back and forth his pre-adolescent chin. "You'll give me your scented pens. All of them."
Emily swallowed hard, grabbed her new packet of scented pens from the table and squeezed until her knuckles turned ghostly. "...No." She squeaked.
There was a collective gasp from all those watching, some sat with hands over agape mouths. Oliver; he wound his scruffy Reebok trainer back and blasted the leg of Emily's chair with it. The packet of pens flew up in the air as she toppled to the floor, and Oliver caught them on their descend, smug.
"Right." Said Miss Callenberg, returning to the room with more bags of glitter. "Who wanted the green -" She skidded to a stop, eying the small heap on the floor. "Emily, what are you doing on the floor sweetheart?"
"I erm, fell."
Miss Callenberg let a warm smile turn her lips up. "You need to be more careful, flower. You're constantly falling over, aren't you?" She crouched before Emily, dangling two bags of glitter. "Now, which colour would you like for your castle?"
Emily tried out a smile of her own, albeit very tiny, and brushed the tip of her finger with the smaller bag. "Erm, can I have the gold one?"
"Sure." Miss Callenberg dropped the bag to the girl's palm, though she quickly lost her smile and raced to the other side of the room when Danielle and Vicky began to shove one another.
When Emily stood and looked to her right, Oliver had his palm out. He snapped his fingers, to her flinch. "Give me the bag, weirdo, or I'll get my older sister to batter you and your loud mouthed twin."
"Get lost Oliver. Miss gave it to us." Ellie cut in, thrusting her open palm out towards Emily. "Give it to me."
Oliver snapped his fingers once more, this time with a cold: "The bag."
...
As his fist closed around the bag of gold, he roared laughter with his friends, eliciting a petulant hair-flick from over in Ellie's corner.
Emily set her chair straight and slipped back behind her desk, head down, eyes scrunched...
Those same set of hazel hues spring ajar and feign liveliness when Jenna pops her head round the door. "Will you get out of that bloody mirror, you will not be late! I've got loads on today, and I want to get you settled in the office before pitching the Sandergraph meeting."
Emily swallows hard. "Yeah, mum, I'll be down in two minutes."
She returns to her reflection as soon as she's alone again, tells the trembling redhead staring back at her a few parting words. "Not monsters. They're just people."
.
.
The moment her green flats meet safe grey carpet, she tenses, inside and out. Several people sat behind desks with computers look up, their tasks slurring slightly as their eyes rake over her like a fine comb through knotted hair.
"Mum?"
Her slender, doll-like, porcelain fingers tend to a facial itch that isn't there, her other hand repeatedly heavy on her mother's shoulder. "Mum?"
Jenna frowns, reluctantly presses her mobile phone to her blouse, and looks at her daughter. "What?" She mouths impatiently.
Emily folds an arm tight around herself, whilst rubbing the side of her neck, leans into her mother, whispering."W-where will I be working?"
Jenna clicks her tongue in her mouth, and quickly points over to a small cubicle of a room, it's only feature: a dinky little window to the rest of the office "You'll be in there photocopying for the time being, unless anybody wants a tea or coffee." The phone then quickly returns to her ear. "Ah, sorry about that Mr. Hemming..."
Emily stands there, wonders what sort of a deal her mother had to cut in order to get her this superfluous job as general dogsbody stroke office run-around.
A moment later, her mother sighs and relaxes her shoulders as she slides her phone back into the breast pocket of her tight-fitted black blazer. She tilts her head to the side slightly, and straightens her daughter's collar, a warmth lengthening in her smile. "This'll be good for you Em. You'll see. Now let me just get settled, and then I'll be over to show you how everything works, ok?"
.
.
Numerous members of staff turn up at Emily's door with requests to have important documents photocopied, though when Mike hands her two different documents and tells her to make a copy of whichever one she fancies, her suspicions are confirmed. She is the zoo's showpiece, at least for today.
"I'll erm, I'll just – I'll do both?"
Mike says nothing, folds his large arms across his broad chest and leans in the doorway, watching every move she makes...
"Here." She's glad she can finally say that, hands him his copies and puts up a smile that barely reaches the corners of her mouth.
He gently beats his pen at the point of his stubbled chin.
"Hmm..." He eventually hums, brash green eyes inspecting the copies for something they both know isn't there. He then smirks, gently pushes out of the doorway and winks. "Thank you."
With the sight of his back, Emily lets the air out of her lungs.
.
.
"I had to stuff envelopes and answer the telephones on my first day, none of this photocopying malarkey – but then the blinking boss heard me using cool words like whizzer, and banned me from ever talking to clients again, didn't he?"
Emily flinches into looking up, ends up knocking the arm off of her Blu-Tack snowman. She lets it roll to the edge of the desk and tumble to the floor. Merely blinks at the new presence stood in the doorway.
"Hi, I'm Panda," The girl speedballs her hand out. "Well not actually Panda." She rolls her eyes, giggles. "Pandora Moon, but I answer to Panda. I answer to Pandora too, but mostly Panda." She nods, mousey blonde hair on the verge of wild as a symptom of the energy she seems to put into everything.
Emily suddenly remembers that this is real life, not a cartoon, and takes Pandora's hand in her own, briefly shaking it with a tepid smile. "Right, well, erm, I'm Emily."
The sprightly girl leaves the doorway and plonks herself in the chair next to Emily. "I know. You're Jenna's daughter aren't you? Must be totally boss getting to work with your mum, unless she's like my mum and won't let you talk to boys or nothin'."
"...Errm..."
"Cockers," Pandora interrupts with a frown, puffs a large breath out of balloon cheeks, and fans a hand in front of her flustered face. "It's bloomin' hot it here isn't it? Should go 'n tell the higher-ups to put on the air con – or you could just go 'n ask your mum."
"Pandora! What the fuck are you doing in here? I sent you for those colour slides like," Looks at the fancy silver adorning her wrist. "Yesterday!"
Pandora casually gestures towards the tall peroxide blonde woman now stood at the door. "Or you could just ask Naomi to put it on for you."
"What?" Naomi erupts, eyes squinting something evil. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"The air con. It's bloomin' hot in here, right Ems?"
"Erm..."
Pandora delivers a gentle but rousing elbow to the girl sat beside her. "Emily?"
"Erm, r-r-right, P-Panda. It's..." She rubs the side of her fast blotching neck, lowers her eyes, and gulps with a desert-like throat, mumbling. "Hot in," Briefly glances up, left to right, and back down again. "...Here."
Naomi looks the small ruby-haired girl over for a second, as if to question why on earth God bothered, before narrowing blue ice back at her assistant. "If those slides are not up in the next five seconds, it's your tits!"
"Alright, alright." Pandora clicks her tongue, stands lethargically, mutters. "Bye Emily," on her comical plod out.
Naomi remains in the doorway, eyes the oddly shaped clump of Blu-Tack stuck to Emily's desk, and shakes her head through a drawn sigh.
"Well?" Her eyebrows shoot for the sky. "Do you want the air con on or not?"
"Erm," Emily barely nods, mumbles into her own lap, "Yes...thanks."
Just like that the doorway is empty again, and Emily pants for all those breaths she's just forgotten to take.
"Get Emily downstairs please, Katie."
"Get James to knock her; I'm already late meeting Danny."
"Katie!"
The older twin sighs dramatically, slips her hand from the front door's handle, and stomps off up the stairs.
Jenna slots a dripping plate into the dish drainer as she feels the front door's slam through her bones, and senses the wariness of the presence behind her. She glances over her shoulder and smiles at her daughter. "You didn't say much in the car."
"…I didn't?"
"I've heard wombs that are more talkative."
"Ok..."
"Enjoy dinner?"
"Was scrumptious..."
Jenna drops a half washed mug back into the solution of soapy dish water, sucks in a breath and turns to face her daughter. "So, how did you get on at the office today then? Was everything ok?"
Anxieties and things of watching paint dry fill Emily's mind, but she masks them with a small smile, shrugs a shoulder laxly, "Yeah, it was ok I 'spose."
"Oh." Jenna's cheekbones rise high to her eyes with her smile, and suds fly everywhere with her jovial clap. "Oh, well that's brilliant darling. What about the staff, mingle with anyone?"
Emily allows her lips a smirk as she recalls the words 'whizzer,' 'bloomin,' and 'cockers.'
"Pandora."
Her mother grabs the dish cloth from its wrap around the oven door's chrome bars, and dries her hands whilst rolling her eyes. "I swear that girl is as dizzy as a spinning top. You could handle the position she's got far better than her. She's not careful, you'll have her job soon. Mark my words!" She nods, chest beginning to swell in pride.
"I met Naomi." Emily quickly changes the subject, instantly winces in regret.
Jenna's hands halt in the dish cloth. "Was that bitch rude to you, because if she was it'll be me and her tomorrow! What did she say? – I've been looking for an excuse to punch her in the mouth."
"Mum, she's not that bad..."
Jenna nearly chokes. A hand flies to her hip, and she flings the sodden dish cloth down to the work surface. "Fantastic! You've met the cow once, and you've taken her side over the woman who spent eighteen hours screaming and pushing so that you and Katie could have life."
"I, I wasn't taking her side, I was just saying. She put the air conditioning on for me...She didn't, well, she didn't have to..."
"The air conditioning?" Jenna repeats, jaw hanging. "I'm your mother, Emily! All of your loyalties should lie with me, and that's not even taking into account how difficult she's made my work life - but hey," She throws her pruned hands up, palms out. "It's nice to know where your allegiance lies." Mutters, "Great."
The tumble dryer hums as Emily runs a slow hand up and down the length of her own arm, her honey brown's closing around a curious squint. "...What did she do to you?"
"She's a complete bitch, that's what she's done. No wonder her husband got rid of her." Chuckles bitterly. "She was trying to bully me into resigning at one point, remember that? She's just a miserable bitch. I swear, if she so much as looks at you wrong, make no mistake, I will crucify her. So unless you want world war three, I suggest you stay away from her."
What do you guys think? And thanks for reading :)