Hey guys! This is a co-thing with EvilFalconofDoom, and is not related to either of our series' in any way. It's basically a 'What If', if Sierra never met Michael (who in my series she met and started dating), if she had a different father, who lived in another world. There's a chance (if you readers want one) that we'll be doing a sequel to this, just for fun. Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy! Reviews are welcomed as well as it gives us motivation.
Chapter One ~ What's Going On?
Petal Frog PoV
From the moment she was born, I knew she couldn't be Judd's. I knew that all along, but never wanted to admit it. As she has matured with her appearance being the depiction of her biological father's, what with the 5'6 stance towering over the normal heights of females belonging to the Frog dynasty, her complexion being moderately bronzed in a Royal Mocha hue like mine and those exotic looks that enticed most men in span involving various ages. It was the practically raven black hair with only a hint of brunette rippling gracefully down to her lower ribcage, those tight waves styled perfect through natural beauty that revealed everything. The only aspect of Sierra to keep my secret veiled was her big, almond shaped eyes with the ocean blue pigment bordering on violet. She has her biological father to express gratitude for most of her features. Her oval face shape is inherited from me as well as the mysterious natural shaped eyebrows in a dark brown hue. The gentle voice that sophisticatedly rolls off her tongue, out of those rosy pink full lips, holds elements of my permanently harsh Queens accent, but that is not a genetic trait she has possessed from myself, it is only something she has developed over time. Her skin, it is so saintly porcelain, like teenage puberty hasn't vandalized it at all, another lucky gene from me. Other than that, she is every bit her unknown father, including the fiery and stubborn mannerisms that never relented during a quest for what she desired. My daughter is not Sierra May Frog. She has no surname, so to me, she has always been Sierra May Corona, my maiden name as Judd Frog is most definitely not her father, emotionally and biologically.
My hands tremble with worry, questions circuiting frantically in my mind. What if she doesn't forgive me? For seventeen years I have kept this from her, what if she will never find her father? It was 1969, and Judd and I had separated subsequent to a dispute over his mania about David, the local vampire. I thought he was crazy, and so abandoned him, taking my abducted daughter Delilah with me. Then I met Alejandro, a man I instantly fell for. Nine months later, I gave birth to his daughter. My quivering hands fumble around for a joint. As soon as she got in from dance class, a passion she has excelled in, I informed her of this secret in a composed voice after she questioned me over my normal state due to my recent behaviour when high. Straight afterwards, she commenced screaming at me, and stormed out without another word. Where she went I don't know, and I'm not sure whether to care or not. She is my daughter, but she is fully capable of caring for herself now. I have said my piece and as hallucinations from my intake of magic mushrooms kidnap me from reality, the care I feel withers away into oblivion.
Sierra PoV:
I can't believe it. How could she deceive me for seventeen years of my life? Judd Frog, the man I have felt detached from for most of my life on the surface of Santa Carla, is not my father and I only have her temperate words to have faith in. I vow to myself as I stride ferociously along the fractured cement slabs where the silver grey colour has been dimmed from a lack of a light source that I will persevere caring for my brothers Edgar and Alan as we still share blood from my mother. My head is full of nothing but ordeals and currently I would like nothing more than to succumb to a heap of forlorn tears.
This revelation of my anonymous paternity sprinting throughout my DNA is the culmination to a week devoured by quandaries. Two weeks prior to this twilight, I fled from my ex-boyfriend following a physical clash on his behalf, causing me to inform the police immediately with a verbal retaliation of my own that agitated him to the core and darting from the house constructed to be alienated from the thriving population of Santa Carla to the cave near Hudson's Bluff where instantly, Dwayne bundled me into an embrace and David presented me with a drink of wine. It was only three days later I discovered the drink was in fact not wine, but crimson blood. I was belittled into believing they held an adoring emotional custody over me whereas reality was far from that paradise.
Now, there is tonight which has further infuriated and upset me. No tears stream down my wind beaten cheeks though, they can't as my teeth clamp down onto my bottom lips in order to ward the crystalline drops of water off. I yearn to know who this nameless man my mother deems my father is. What is his name? How old is he? Do I have other half siblings? Woe instigates me to sigh as I believe somehow I will never find out.
I don't know where I am going, where my location to rest will be tonight under this dark canopy. Only the gleaming moon can chaperon me now as I just want to explore, to roam around the sheet of velvet shadows excluding the fear that should be initiating shudders down my spine. All the phobias are slaughtered though as the two major emotions of anxiety and distress are the emphasising murderers. All I have in my possession is a leather purse consumed with objects necessary for a teenage girl who is wandering around at night, seeking for a place to stay. I probably won't be out long as my brother's need me, but I just need to be liberated from my mother's presence. Currently, I despise that woman to the absolute maximum. She's lied to me for seventeen years of my life, and if it wasn't for her being sober this week, I most likely would have never heard those words be free from her own intelligence. I can't believe it. I don't want to believe it. In fact, I just want to go to another world or something like that to get away from her loathsome being once and for all. That's an absurd notion though, and I don't have the time or freedom to even think of such things.
Suddenly, I smell something, something irony and lustrous. I want it. I must have it; something inside of me claws the walls of my stomach demanding for it. Footsteps belonging to the click of my heels command it. Before I can reach my shrouded target, a blinding sphere of white lights gathers me up and soars me into the air. What's going on?
When my eyes slip up, I see I am not where I was on the outskirts of The Boardwalk. No, I am breathing recklessly, gasping for air as my body floats up from the ocean surface with my face completely dry and mere cosmetics still intact. Why is my face dry but yet it feels like I was hauled from the lethal waters endeavouring to drown me? As I climb out, my doused body and clothes consisting of white lace camisole top with ivory ribbons at the back to secure the top together flaunting my slim hourglass curves, floral stirrup pants mainly tinted with a baby pink and pastel blue and beige granny boots, I examine my surroundings.
"Hello? Hey, is anybody there?" I call out, knitting my eyebrows together as I twist my hair to dry the bottom and middle section of the glossy, dark locks. Where am I? Unexpectedly, I hear Laddie's voice, and before I can even think my legs dash towards him. Finally, I think I know where I am.
Mike PoV:
My mind is racing, I can't believe what Sam had said earlier. I don't want to believe it, it was just too insane. It can't be real. Vampires are not real, they just aren't. You don't go to bed one night, then wake up thirsting for blood, but why did I have that urge to go after Sam, like something alien inside me taking over tempting me, using me to commit some sick act, to kill my own brother? There would have to be some kind of explanation for it: drugs? The flying, the transparent reflection could have been hallucinations caused by Sam's craziness with those stupid comics, and if I was drugged, it only messed with my head, and we have hallucinated all this crap from the point where Nanook bit me?
It's crazy, but can't be real. Likely those guys drugged me, I had to be high to have actually hung off that bridge. High and stupid just to impress a girl? I don't remember what happened, it was all a blur, but I do remember them laughing right before I passed out, and then somehow waking up in my bed. It was some big joke and must have been a short fall even though it felt like I was falling and never would see the bottom. This is some sick twisted joke played by David, either way I know where to go to find out – if they are there.
I don't like sneaking out like this, but I need answers and I don't need Mom or Grandpa stopping me, mainly mom. I heard her yelling over that carton of milk I left on the floor. When I collapsed and everything went all freaky on me, like I was in one of those psychedelic videos, it was like everything came alive around me and was moving, but not, and the hunger I felt was like some demon inside of me was clawing out and whispering for me to kill. Was that what crazies do? Maybe I wasn't drugged. I just, instead, lost my mind. How long can drugs last? David did some freaky shit. I shouldn't have smoked that joint. I refused at first, but he just looked at me, and I felt like I couldn't say no. It had to be drugs, because if it isn't drugs and Sams' over active mind, which would mean this is all real, and it can't because things that go bump in the night just don't exist.
Their bikes are gone. They must be at the Boardwalk, probably off scaring someone else after having their laugh freaking out my brother with their game. Though it could be another hallucination. They aren't outside and it seems like their calling to me was all in my head. Sam believes in all that things under the bed crap, hell he still believes in the closet monster. This is just too much, too much thinking on this. I need to stop thinking of it, just stupid, I'll see if Star's down there, or another... Wait, who's talking? It doesn't sound like any of the guys.
I decide not to call out for Star or anyone; I can hear her talking to what sounded like another girl. Okay, now I'm confused. I don't remember David having another girl with him. The one, Dwayne carried that little kid around, must be some runaway. With a sigh, I just silently as I can slip up and listen, then I can ask Star what the hell's going on. Like what's in that damned bottle for instance. Sam, I hope you're wrong, that this is really just some freakish night I want to forget induced by some drugs. A little 'hey we got you high', I can hit David and just forget this night ever happened.