*Summary- Sequel to Of Hopes and Fears. Mabel is depressed and returns to Gravity Falls in the hopes that if she faces the bad memories, they'll go away. Little does she know lurking in the shadows is an old deadly enemy with a deadly secret. Mabel will do anything to figure it out, even if it means losing her own life along the way.
Hey everyone! I decided to write my sequel of "Of Hopes and Fears" very quickly because I couldn't stand taking forever to get back to all my lovely readers! Yet again, I have a story title from a line of Percy Bysshe Shelley's poem, Adonais. So without further ado... "Glimmering Incarnations".
Prologue
My name is Mabel Pines. I am fourteen years old. I am an only child. I used to have a twin brother. It is my fault he is dead. Last year I couldn't go back to Gravity Falls; it made me too upset. My parents, hoping they could help, sent me to an expensive summer camp. Girls were nice and accepted me, but I still hated it. This summer I decided to go back, where the memories can claim me. My parents took me to a psychologist, but all that did was push the memories farther and farther back into my head. And now they are just waiting to erupt.
Sometimes I wake up screaming for Dipper to stop, to let me take the bullet, and when I wake up, it's no better than the nightmare. Worse, actually. My parents always came in to comfort me, but they were never the same. Now I understand what Emma had said two summers ago when she was disguised as her dead sister, Sally Alder. Twins like us have special bonds. I didn't think so then, but I'd give anything to have Dipper with me now. I don't let anyone reach me. No one can, not like my dead twin brother, or my dead best friend, Melodie Jhonston.
I miss them. Sometimes I'll talk to them in my dreams. Sometimes they visit me there. We talk and laugh and cry and let out all of our rage. It's only there where I can let my true feelings out. Only on these occasional happy dreams. We talk in Heaven, the only peaceful place in the world. I've been there once, those two summers ago. My grandmother visits Dipper, Mel, and me. She serves us lemonade and tiny frosted cakes. I never want to wake up. When I do, I make my way to the bathroom, or the kitchen, or the den, and try to slit my wrists with one of those stupid dull kitchen knifes. But my parents always find me.
I decided I couldn't spend another summer finding funny little hiding places in closets, behind the sofa, in the pantry, in the bathtub; curled up tightly taking nice long naps until my daily 4:30 appointment. I realized I had to return to Gravity Falls when this morning, all the knives, scissors, and other sharp and pointy objects were gone. I told my parents earlier today, and now they are talking it over with my great-uncle Stan. I'm not sure they entirely trust him after what happened. As for me, I'm delighted. Someone new to stop me from committing suicide.
Chapter One
Fourteen-year-old Mabel Pines was seated on a bus set for Gravity Falls, Oregon listening to music on her iPhone. You could tell by looking at her she wasn't your typical teenager. Her eyes were permanently clouded and dark, and whenever you spoke to her she wouldn't always make eye contact. A large, white jagged scar ran across her forehead, which she never failed to rub when she was stressed. At some points silent tears would stream down her cheeks, and then she would be fine. Her long, milk chocolate colored hair was brushed neatly into a ponytail and light blue headband; she wore a dark gray blouse and blue skirt.
Mabel looked out the window to see the familiar old Mystery Shack come into view. As the bus neared, Mabel could see the fiery red hair of Wendy Corduroy working in the front yard. That was odd. Wasn't she the cashier or something? But something else had changed about her. She wore a short pink skirt, heels, and a thin fitting top that showed her bra straps drastically.
The bus screeched to a stop in the Shack's parking lot, and excited tourists burst through the doors. Mabel looked around. In literally two seconds most all the people previously on the bus were gone. She slowly took up her new duffel bags and headed for the folding doors, paying the driver along the way. All of her things were new. Her parents had hoped she might come out of her shell if they bought her new things.
They were wrong.
Mabel walked through the parking lot quietly, and as she reached the front, Wendy caught sight of her.
"Sorry, I would have left the door open for you, but the other tourists already went inside," she said, and went back to raking the leaves that hardly ever fell in the summer.
"I thought you worked at the cash register," Mabel said hesitantly.
"Oh, that was a couple years ago. I left the job for a while after- well, Stan probably didn't update it on the site," Wendy replied.
"Have you been here before?" Wendy asked absentmindedly.
"I stayed here two summers ago."
Wendy dropped the rake and gaped at her.
"Mabel... is that really you?!" she asked. Mabel nodded.
"You've... changed. You're so skinny... What happened to your forehead?!" Wendy asked in surprise.
"Surgery. When I stayed here a demented ghost chased me and I fell down a slope. At the bottom was a boulder and I cracked my skull on that," Mabel answered like it was nothing.
"A... demented ghost? Anyway- why aren't you wearing those cute, bright sweaters you used to make?" Wendy questioned.
"I don't like bright colors," came the simple reply. "Well, I'm going to go inside now," she added, and walked to the door.
"Hey, Mabel. One last thing. Where's Dipper?" Wendy asked. Mabel turned around slowly and smiled for the first time in years.
"Dead."
"What?! Mabel, come here. Please. I need to-"
Mabel ignored the pleas of the former cashier and stalked through the door.
Inside was complete mayhem. Tourists were everywhere, and talking and laughing and showing each other weird merchandise. And there was her great-uncle Stan. Introducing the stupid tourists to ridiculous new oddities in his collection. Mabel sighed and sneaked through the door to the living room, and then climbed the familiar old steps to the attic bedroom she and her twin used to share. The only things in there were the two beds. Mabel unzipped one of her duffel bags and pulled out Dipper's blue sheets. She clutched them tightly as she brought them over to Dipper's old bed and laid them neatly on top.
"See, Dipper?" she asked. "Now it's like old times."
"Hey, kid." Mabel heard a voice behind her and turned around.
"Uncle Stan," she said shortly. "Hey." Stan shifted uncomfortably in his position. He didn't remember Mabel like this. Her eyes seemed to be darker. They set his nerves on end. They seemed to bore like black holes into his mind. Was she always this skinny? And tired?
"Mind if I grab a pitt cola downstairs?" she asked. Stan scratched his head.
"Wouldn't you rather go on a mystery thing in the forest?" he asked.
"In Gravity Falls? There's nothing strange here," Mabel commented with a hint of a smile, and brushed past her great-uncle on her way out of the attic.
It was four days later after Mabel's arrival, and Stan was starting to feel sympathy for the kid. She never smiled, or laughed, or had any enthusiasm like she used to. He barely ever saw her anyway; she was always away in some hidden room wasting the day away.
"Hey, kid!" he called upstairs. Nothing. "I have some leftover pizza for dinner, if you want." There was a little bit of scuffling, and soon he saw a tentative shoe step forward. Then Mabel's skinny body emerged, and Stan had to think she looked worse than when he last saw her. Her darkened circles highlighted her dark holes that she called eyes, her sallow cheeks, her tearstained face, her sickly body. But- she was beautiful in a certain way. Her gray buttoned down blouse showed her new figure. Her perfectly manicured hands were gentle.
"Pizza?" she asked softly.
"Yeah," Stan coaxed like you would a stray cat. "You want some?" The cat moved forward quietly.
"Maybe a little," she said hesitantly. Stan moved the box towards her and she moved her hand forward to open the box. Mabel took a slice away, and he noticed bloody scars and cuts peeking from her sleeve.
"What are those?" he asked, pointing to an especially bleeding one. Mabel ripped the sleeve all the way down and gazed at him with such force, he had to look down.
"What are what?" she asked sharply, and turned away to head back upstairs.
Mabel sat on her bed, nibbling on her slice of pizza. It was very good, but if she ate any more she would feel sick. It was just too much for her extremely decreasing stomach size. Dizzily, she set it down on the dresser and laid back on her white and gray bedspread.
"Dipper, life is really confusing. I don't feel like anyone accepts me, or trusts me. I don't even trust me," she whispered to the ceiling. Tears sprung to her eyes as she remembered clearly the night two years ago when she had confessed to her brother about the drugs, and said that. "Please protect me," she said, her face screwed up in pain. "Please."
She jumped off of her bed and made her way to Dipper's. "Mind if I sleep in your bed tonight?" she asked, and slipped into the covers with her clothes still on. Her foot hit something hard, and her hand shot down to retrieve the object. When she pulled it out, she gasped and made a strange choking noise, and dropped it on the floor. Part of her wanted to go downstairs and watch television with Grunkle Stan, but with a look of disgust she pushed it away. That was stupid. Instead she fixed her flashing eyes forward with a gaze of anger, rubbing her white scar profusely. She would be ready to fight.
The thing she stared at with such passionate hatred, such fury, such rage, was her twin brother's Volume 3.
Mabel looked down again and shuddered. A note had fallen out of its leather binding. Reaching forward, she picked it up and shakily opened it.
Watch your back.
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