a/n This is my first story EVER so please review. This is a sort of a prologue so bare with me as I continue to add to the story. I know the title is odd, but it's so hard to come up with a good one.
Disclaimer: I own nothing and no one. This is just a story and if it offends, please don't sue me, just write me.
Beeeeep beeeep beeeeep beeeeep beeeeep!
The sound of an alarm clock was startling that morning, as it was every morning. From the opposite end of a long bedroom, a large blanket began to move. And something that resembled the living dead staggered out from underneath.
"I hate this damned thing!" groaned Francis Cross (Frankie to her friends). She reset the alarm and staggered to the bathroom on stiff unsure legs. Time to prepare for the day. Brush teeth, shower, get dressed, and make breakfast, pancakes today. No, waffles! Then, wake the twins, get them ready, faces washed, teeth brushed. Get them to eat and get dressed. Print report, load back pack, apply make-up, let mom in, and off to school. Another busy morning. She was relieved, at least, that after school her whole day was free to spend with her small family. She just had to get through the morning. She plugged her iPod into her speakers and got started.
She stepped out of her front door to get the paper, and was startled by her own reflection. Guess the new neighbors decided to take a break moving their stuff in. I hope they get it out of there soon, it looks so creepy. She paused from her morning ritual to look at her reflection. Her figure rounder than it had been before the twins, but that was to be expected. Her face was still young-looking, but it had a tired sort of droop to it. She smiled at herself, thought herself silly, for wasting time with this self examination. For a moment she felt like a child again, until she saw the sadness in her smile. She was only 25 years old, and here she was, a single mother of two. She felt so old and worn down with that thought and dragged herself away from the door, and woke her kids.
"Monsters, oh monsters! Does anyone know where I might find some monsters?" she crept into the room like a hag, and her two children, bright eyed and squealing with glee jumped out of their beds and into her arms. "Why hello Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum! How are you on this fine morning?" The girl turned her head to her mother with eyes too clever for her three years. "Mommy-wommy! Can I be Tweedle-dum? Peter likes to be Tweedle-dee!" Frankie laughed, and covered them both in kisses. "Johanna, you and Peter can be whoever you want. If you want, you could even be the Cheshire Cat and Queen of Hearts! Now, darling beasties, its time for breakfast." Peter turned his large dark eyes on his mother and whispered shyly in her ear, "Mommy, is it waffle day?" "it sure is," she smiled.
She watched her children as they ate. The both looked like her, and nothing like Him. They had her olive skin and dark wild hair, not curly, but wavy and straight all at once. Too thick to comb, too thin to curl. They had her deep dark eyes, the color of a good cup of coffee, that gave them the appearance of a sage-like wisdom. They were perfect, and she was content, at least until she looked at the clock. Her mother was late again, which meant she would likely be late to class.
Frankie let a sigh of relief escape her lips as her mother entered her apartment five minutes later to watch that children. She took her classes quite seriously these days, a change from before when life was a big game for her. But now she was a single mother, and there were examples to be made, and if she didn't leave soon, she'd be late.
"Hello darling mother of mine, how nice of you to show up!" Her eyes glittered with mirth as she chuckled under her breath.
Her mother rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue. "Really Frankie, maybe I would have come earlier if it was an exercising class, instead of a cooking class. Maybe then you'd meet a man. After all, no man wants to date the Michelin Man's sister."
Frankie ignored her mother's jab about the extra weight she had put on after the twins. It was just the same old thing she always heard; no man will want you if you are too smart or too fat, or too funny, and a life without a man was apparently not worth it.
"You don't even date anymore Francis. I think it's time to face facts, he's never coming back. You need to think of the kids, what will they do with no father?"
Francis steeled her gaze at her mother, and her voice was filled with ice, "My children have a father, but, I don't need a man to raise my kids," she felt bad at her sudden outburst and added as an afterthought, "that's what you're for."
Her mother sighed and looked at her. "I'm sorry Frankie, but I worry about you. Don't you get lonely by yourself? Don't you want someone to take care of you?"
"I can take care of myself ma, and as far as loneliness goes, that's what one-night stands are for."
Oh like any man would want you thunder thighs!"
Frankie laughed. "Don't worry mommy dearest, I find most men enjoy my fantastic assets and my wonderful pair of wits." She cracked a grin, and glanced at the clock. Oh that's just great. I'm late again. She thought to herself. She kissed her mother and children goodbye and ran out the door.
In the hall of her building, she paused to make sure she had everything to need, counting off the items one by one in her head; Hat? Check! Jacket? Check! Backpack? Check! Now inside the bag; Knife bag? Check! I Pod? Check! Chef jacket and pants? Check! Report on the many uses of the celery plant? Crap!
She threw down her bag and bolted into the apartment to grab the report. It was still on the printer where she left it. She shouted her goodbyes as she ran out the front door. So focused on trying to be on time for her class, her feet got tangled up in her backpack and she tripped over it, and fell down the stairs head first. Her last thoughts before she crashed into the large mirror still left in the hall were to lift her arms and cover her face. Well, that and suing her new neighbor who just left it there.
She waited to feel the glass tear through her flesh, feel the cold burning of it. She waited to hear the crashing of the glass and the tinkling on the pieces as they fell, but it never came. Instead she was flung to the ground like a sack of potatoes. Her sight faded to black as her head cracked against a tiled floor.