Okidoki, this is the first chapter of the prequel to my first fic, To Face the Enemy. Those of you who haven't read it, I recommend you read it. To those who have, this is Aila's background. Here's some base facts: she lives in the same house Sarah does in the movie. Aila is sixteen, and her older brother, John, Sarah's dad, is twenty-four and currently going out with Linda, Sarah's mum. He lives in his own place but comes home often (much to Aila's disgust, as you who have read TFTE would imagine!)
Disclaimer: The setting, some ppl's names, and of course the Underground belong to Jim Henson's production. Aila kicks ass through me, and a few other ppl are locked away in five-star cells in my head (complimentary cinema-screen tvs available with every cell). The plot was also created through my striving-to-be-genius-but-not-getting-too-far mind, *takes bow, amidst rotten tomatoes*.
*~*~*~*
"Bye Mr. Cullen!" Aila called as she tumbled out of the beat-up red pick-up truck. Well, you couldn't really call it red. There were stains, scratches, and the odd dent or two that hid a lot of the redness. But if you looked hard enough, you could see the paint. Mr. Cullen waved politely, while Rhys, who was sixteen like Aila, shouted things at her with a silly grin on his face until she couldn't hear him anymore. She wouldn't dare repeat any of those things to her parents, though. Too rude. Aila threw up a finger after him, quickly checking to see that her mother wasn't peering out of the window. The girl slung her backpack over one shoulder and lodged her skateboard under the other arm, then headed inside. After dumping her stuff upstairs, she peeked into the livingroom, where the tv was roaring. And groaned out loud.
"John, what the hell are you doing here?" She hissed in his ear. The twenty-four year old man, nicely dressed and polite-looking, jumped. He had been too engrossed in his program to hear her. But now, a cheeky grin crossed his face and Aila was barely able to dodge a hand that snuck towards her nose in an effort to wrench it around.
"There you are, miss skater girl. I just popped in to say a quick hello, and got stuck waiting for you while the old fogies went to Mary's for tea," he said, managing to get in a quick pinch before she whipped her arm out of reach. Aila glared.
"When will they be back?" She scowled.
"Well past your bed-time, dear sister. What do you want for tea? There's leftover lasagna, leftover lasagna, or nothing," John turned back to the set as her scowl deepened.
"You know very well I don't have a bed-time, and I don't have a curfew either. And what happened to the enchiladas Mum froze from yesterday's tea?" She asked, twisting his ear painfully before darting away. John gulped in air and burped loudly at her, grinning.
"You ate them? I should have known. Pigs can't resist enchiladas. In that case, I'm going out. If I'm lucky you won't see me tomorrow," she called angrily, turning and pounding up the stairs. Army-style camouflage pants and a worn, raggedly black shirt that if her mother got her hands on it would be in the rag pile, were thrown on. School shoes were traded for sneakers, her favorite cap shoved on backwards, and fingerless gloves pulled onto hands that stuffed her knapsack with house keys, wallet, cell phone and a gameboy. She threw the pack on her back, then thundered downstairs again.
"Hey wait, where're you going?" John called from the porch as Aila retrieved her bike from the garage. For her sixteenth birthday, she had received a top-of the range mountain bike, with the promise she would be allowed to get a proper motorcycle next birthday. The same promise had been given to her last year. And there was of course the condition of flying pigs showing their faces...
"Out, I told you. I'll get takeout for tea. Smell you later, butt-wipe!" She pedaled hard down the street, conveniently forgetting her helmet, face raised to the breeze in the dying sunlight. (OOC: Ok peeps, I'm sorry about this, but I might get some things mixed up here. You see, I live in Australia, and this I think is set in England. So you have to excuse me if I make some mistakes, k?) Her first stop was a burger joint, then the park where she bagged a swing for herself from the little kids to tease them with her greasy cheeseburger. One lucky tot got the pickle, and a cute boo with big brown eyes scored a few fries, but other than that it was Aila's pigout. Sucking on her strawberry shake, she gave in to a frazzled mother who wanted to give her brat a ride on the swing, and moved to a bench.
"Lucky little buggers," she muttered around the plastic straw.
"Get all the freedom and innocence they want," she closed her eyes, tilting her head back to catch the evening breeze. Aila Williams, hopefully to be changed to Aila Keil in the near future, might be a rebellious teenage skater girl, but all she really wanted was freedom. Freedom from school rules. Freedom from her parents. And definitely freedom from that cow-butt brother John. Suddenly, the girl had an idea. She sat up and grabbed her bike, slam-dunking the empty shake in a near-by bin and racing out of the park. Her eyes were shining with glee as she pedaled towards home, and inside her mind was set on one thing. She knew how to get rid of John, once and for all!
*~*~*~*
So? How's that for the first chapter? Reviews plz people! Tell me what you think!
Sweet Sunshine,
Seul Loup
*******************************************************
* Fancy yourself as a writer? *
* *
* Want to win prizes for your stories and poems? *
* *
* Corey's Place - this is for you! *
* *
* http://feanorbirmans.ozefamily.com.au/coreys_place/ *
*******************************************************
Disclaimer: The setting, some ppl's names, and of course the Underground belong to Jim Henson's production. Aila kicks ass through me, and a few other ppl are locked away in five-star cells in my head (complimentary cinema-screen tvs available with every cell). The plot was also created through my striving-to-be-genius-but-not-getting-too-far mind, *takes bow, amidst rotten tomatoes*.
*~*~*~*
"Bye Mr. Cullen!" Aila called as she tumbled out of the beat-up red pick-up truck. Well, you couldn't really call it red. There were stains, scratches, and the odd dent or two that hid a lot of the redness. But if you looked hard enough, you could see the paint. Mr. Cullen waved politely, while Rhys, who was sixteen like Aila, shouted things at her with a silly grin on his face until she couldn't hear him anymore. She wouldn't dare repeat any of those things to her parents, though. Too rude. Aila threw up a finger after him, quickly checking to see that her mother wasn't peering out of the window. The girl slung her backpack over one shoulder and lodged her skateboard under the other arm, then headed inside. After dumping her stuff upstairs, she peeked into the livingroom, where the tv was roaring. And groaned out loud.
"John, what the hell are you doing here?" She hissed in his ear. The twenty-four year old man, nicely dressed and polite-looking, jumped. He had been too engrossed in his program to hear her. But now, a cheeky grin crossed his face and Aila was barely able to dodge a hand that snuck towards her nose in an effort to wrench it around.
"There you are, miss skater girl. I just popped in to say a quick hello, and got stuck waiting for you while the old fogies went to Mary's for tea," he said, managing to get in a quick pinch before she whipped her arm out of reach. Aila glared.
"When will they be back?" She scowled.
"Well past your bed-time, dear sister. What do you want for tea? There's leftover lasagna, leftover lasagna, or nothing," John turned back to the set as her scowl deepened.
"You know very well I don't have a bed-time, and I don't have a curfew either. And what happened to the enchiladas Mum froze from yesterday's tea?" She asked, twisting his ear painfully before darting away. John gulped in air and burped loudly at her, grinning.
"You ate them? I should have known. Pigs can't resist enchiladas. In that case, I'm going out. If I'm lucky you won't see me tomorrow," she called angrily, turning and pounding up the stairs. Army-style camouflage pants and a worn, raggedly black shirt that if her mother got her hands on it would be in the rag pile, were thrown on. School shoes were traded for sneakers, her favorite cap shoved on backwards, and fingerless gloves pulled onto hands that stuffed her knapsack with house keys, wallet, cell phone and a gameboy. She threw the pack on her back, then thundered downstairs again.
"Hey wait, where're you going?" John called from the porch as Aila retrieved her bike from the garage. For her sixteenth birthday, she had received a top-of the range mountain bike, with the promise she would be allowed to get a proper motorcycle next birthday. The same promise had been given to her last year. And there was of course the condition of flying pigs showing their faces...
"Out, I told you. I'll get takeout for tea. Smell you later, butt-wipe!" She pedaled hard down the street, conveniently forgetting her helmet, face raised to the breeze in the dying sunlight. (OOC: Ok peeps, I'm sorry about this, but I might get some things mixed up here. You see, I live in Australia, and this I think is set in England. So you have to excuse me if I make some mistakes, k?) Her first stop was a burger joint, then the park where she bagged a swing for herself from the little kids to tease them with her greasy cheeseburger. One lucky tot got the pickle, and a cute boo with big brown eyes scored a few fries, but other than that it was Aila's pigout. Sucking on her strawberry shake, she gave in to a frazzled mother who wanted to give her brat a ride on the swing, and moved to a bench.
"Lucky little buggers," she muttered around the plastic straw.
"Get all the freedom and innocence they want," she closed her eyes, tilting her head back to catch the evening breeze. Aila Williams, hopefully to be changed to Aila Keil in the near future, might be a rebellious teenage skater girl, but all she really wanted was freedom. Freedom from school rules. Freedom from her parents. And definitely freedom from that cow-butt brother John. Suddenly, the girl had an idea. She sat up and grabbed her bike, slam-dunking the empty shake in a near-by bin and racing out of the park. Her eyes were shining with glee as she pedaled towards home, and inside her mind was set on one thing. She knew how to get rid of John, once and for all!
*~*~*~*
So? How's that for the first chapter? Reviews plz people! Tell me what you think!
Sweet Sunshine,
Seul Loup
*******************************************************
* Fancy yourself as a writer? *
* *
* Want to win prizes for your stories and poems? *
* *
* Corey's Place - this is for you! *
* *
* http://feanorbirmans.ozefamily.com.au/coreys_place/ *
*******************************************************