Disclaimer: I do not own any of the concepts owned by Stephenie Meyer, because none of the characters are featured, in this fic at least. I am not making any money from this, although I wish I was. Thank you!
A/N: Wow, I'm kinda ashamed I've taken so fucking long to post anything on here and I hope you guys like this! Basically, I was re-reading the Twilight Saga which I borrowed from my cousin a couple of years ago and recently re-borrowed and decided to write a fic. But I'm more of one for original ideas and decided to make up all my own stuff for this one! This chapter is sadly just an introduction to my protagonist, Nelle Lucy Hillon, and doesn't have much going on sorry guys, but I hope you can look past it and get to know/like Nelle! The romance will take a while to start, because as any good author will say, love takes time! I hope you enjoy!
My eyes flicker openly slowly, uncertainly, everything being blurry as they adjust to the light above me, shining down upon me, like heavens have opened. Only it's artificial, and kills the dream of being the afterlife finally coming to greet me. The same light greets me every morning when I get up from my usual slumber of at least ten hours and get up to start my routine day. I don't particularly feel up for getting up today, and I don't really have to. It's a Sunday so I have no school to be rushing off to, and I haven't organised any plans with my friends, so I'm just relaxing for today. I think I deserve the rest for once.
I've never exactly lived the normal lifestyle for a girl of sixteen. When I was a baby, my father left my mom for another woman; she was never certain who this woman was, but she had a feeling it was a lawyer who worked at the same law firm as my father, who was young, single and attractive. Not that long after that, we moved to Northwest, North Carolina. My mom, Helena Jessica Hillon, was surprisingly born in England in a small village just outside the city of York called Weldrake. She moved to the states when she was eighteen to attend university in Chicago, where she met my father, Britt Hillon. Oddly enough, we still keep photos of my father around the house, but I can tell he aired a certain atmosphere of grace and glamour around him when my mom first met him. Even the photographs showed that.
According to her, they fell in love too fast, got married too fast, and had me too fast. They had me when my mother was just nineteen and he'd only recently turned twenty. The relationship deteriorated in a matter of months, because they didn't truly love one another; they'd loved the idea of having a little baby, living in a small town like Northwest, and growing old together. But the reality sadly had proved them very wrong, veryfast. My mom doesn't regret having me at such a young age, she just tells me she regrets having me with my father, because of what he ended up doing. Apparently when I was two he attempted to gain custody of me, but his attempts were futile and nothing ever happened.
He currently lives with his new wife, Misha, in Salt Lake City, with their two children aged nine and six respectively. The nine year old is a boy named Owen and the six year old is a little girl named Sallie-Barbara, both of whom I've met on numerous visits to his house. In my opinion, my dad isn't too bad, but then again, he isn't my ex-husband; our relationship is nowhere near awkward, but I don't get to see him as much as I'd like to. Misha isn't bad either, and in fact, is nice for a stepmother. She treats me like her own kid and talks to me. My halfies (the nickname I've given my half-siblings) are pretty sweet and I enjoy babysitting to get to know them better, so all in all, my family life is okay.
Same cannot be said for my social life. I go to the smaller of Northwests' two optional high schools and once I graduate, I've chosen to move to Salt Lake City to attend university because I want to try living with my dad for a while, and see how that works out. The more typical high school people attend is Northwest Guilford High, but my mom didn't like the school system too much and opted to send me to the other school. According to her it's too strict when it comes to simple things such as dress code and others, which, based upon the few times I've seen students from there, I have to sort of agree. Northwest Overman High is cheaper and a lot smaller than Northwest Guilford. Only 321 students, including myself, attend and getting a place is surprisingly hard because of the sheer rush of people who want to send their kids here. Why?
Well, we have two of the best English and languages departments in North Carolina, apparently, so a lot of people knew to the area of Northwest want their kids here; despite the fact Guilford offers much better sciences, physical education and maths. But because today's world is all about travel and racial commodity, speaking good foreign languages and having non-illiterate children is apparently more important to most people who decide to move here. But you're more likely to get in the longer you've lived in the town, and because I've been here practically my entire life with my mom, Helena, I was automatically accepted. You either have to be incredibly influential or incredibly rich to score a place otherwise. And not many people who move here tend to be that.
Then again, you could argue people prefer Overman because the mayor's son attends our school, and is coincidentally in my year, as well as one of my friends. That's probably one of the most interesting factors about my life, being friends with the mayor of Northwests' son, Isaac William, Richard William's son. I met Isaac after accidentally giving myself a rather nasty paper cut on the first day of middle school and our teacher, then Miss Olivia Parstowe, now Mrs Olivia Burnholme, chose Isaac to be the one to escort me to the nurse's office so I could get a dinosaur plaster put on my arm. I don't have a tendency to get papercuts much, but when I do, they tend to end up pretty messy and I leak blood everywhere.
I think she chose Isaac because according to himself, when he was younger he'd found it hard making friends because his mother was fussy on whom he became friends with. She apparently had this insufferable habit of deciding whether a child was 'good enough' to hang out with her son based solely off their name. I don't remember Lorie William well because she died when Isaac was six, and that was before we met. All I remember was that she had wonderful flame red hair which Isaac inherited.
Isaac took after his mother according to pretty much everyone in Northwest, and it shows, based upon the framed photographs which litter his expensively furnished front room. He inherited her flame red hair which is constantly in a state of messy, unbrushedness and burns around his slim face, which is fair skinned like the rest of his lanky body. His face is slim and has a sharp point at the chin, with his nose ending in a similar point, and his cheekbones even seem to have a slight point to them. His eyes are the same colour as his father's though, a relaxed, misty grey colour which tends to soothe people. And of course, being incredibly rich, he only wears designer clothes. He even owns a genuine leather jacket from Italy, but he's pretty kind when it comes to birthday presents and Christmas gifts.
He's also kind enough to give me lifts to school in his blue Mazda, and it beats having to do the usual half an hour walk I used to do before he earned his driver's licence two months ago. It's currently October, and my birthday is in November, so I have a month to go before I can get a car of my own and start driving myself around, not having to rely on Isaac anymore. Sure, it won't be something incredibly expensive like Isaac's Mazda, but it'll be something that can get me places when I need to and will save me a lot of time taking trains to airports when I need to visit my dad if mom can't drive me.
You're probably wondering what my name is by now, well, it's obvious my surname is going to be Hillon because that's the surname of my parents even though they're divorced. My name is Nelle Lucy Hillon. Like the normal first name Nell only with an extra 'e' on the end because my mother wanted me to stand out in cause there were any other Nell's in my classes at school. There never have been though, I've always been the only Nelle and I guess I'm glad because of that. My friend, Markus Moon, more commonly just known as Mark tells me it sucks to be one of three Markus' at our high school. The rest of my friends surprisingly don't face the same problems. I'm one of a group of five, consisting of myself, Isaac the mayor's son, Mark Moon or 'Double M' as some people call him, Alyssa Graham more commonly known as Lissy by pretty much the entire school, Vanessa 'Van' Hooper my overall best friend, and of course, me.
I'm not part of my school's 'in crowd' but I'm not unpopular either, I kind of sit inbetween, and I like my position because no-one picks on me, but I'm not constantly being pestered. Probably a good thing. I can…Do something no-one else I know can. I can control plants, or chlorokinesis as it's more commonly known as in the comic book world. I asked my friend Mark the technical term because he's always been big on comics, and he especially loves DC which features femme fatal villain, Poison Ivy, who shares my power. I can make dying plants come back to life, create them and shape them. It'd be even better if I could talk to them but I can't because they lack mouths.
None of my friends know about my chlorokinetic abilities, again borrowing the word from Mark, because I'm not sure they'd believe me. Even though I've known them for pretty much my entire life, telling them would be painfully awkward and the chance of them not believing me would be even worse. Besides, in a world where supervillains don't exist, being able to manipulate and control plants isn't too revolutionary nor something which can enhance my life in any particular way. Oh well, I guess keeping the garden nice for mom and being able to bring back the prettiest plants we own saves money, so it does have some benefits.
But I'm not planning on going all Poison Ivy on the world and valuing plants over humans, that's just insane. Although I have a strange connection to the plants I own, which means I can tell when they're dying or if they're sick, I don't view them as my family really so there's no particular emotional attachment, at least to an extent. I don't even really look like Poison Ivy, luckily, because neither of my parents had red hair or green eyes.
Unlike most the girl's I know, I take more after my father when it comes to generalisation. I've inherited my mom's slim jawed, slim face which isn't heart shaped like Van's is but apparently still looks nice. My lips are filled out and maybe a little too plump for my jawline but people seem to overlook it when they ask me out, which is pretty rare. My nose is long and thin, with a slightly snub end but Mark says it makes me look 'cute' and my eyes are large and wide-spaced apart. I pluck my eyebrows regularly so they don't get too filled out and stay arched and thin. It hurts like hell, but I put up with it. My skin tone is described as fair by most people I meet, and is pale due to the fact I only burn in the sun opposed to tanning, and I have a rash of freckles coating my nose and upper arms. My eyes are hazel brown in shade and look distinctively darker compared to my strawberry blonde shade hair. I inherited my hair and eyes from my dad, Britt. My hair is waving and stops just above my mid back because I had it bobbed when I was about five and it's taken a while to grow out to the normal length of most girls I know. I stand at 5'6" in height, aka 168 cms, and my build is slender but plumper than both my female friends and I'm often called 'curvaceous' by my mom and dad.
I'm not the prettiest girl in my year group, that's obviously Lisa Sellers, but I've had a few boyfriend's over my years at Overman, three to be precise, but none of the relationships have ever gotten to serious sadly. I've never 'consummated my relationship' with any of my boyfriend's because the relationship never got serious enough to even so much as approach that level of commitment. The three boys I dated during my years here were Tony Lindsay who's now going out with Julia Freeman, our very own class president; Deon Arnold, star quarter back of our Raging Falcon's football team, now dating Charlotte Elliot, gymnastics champion; and Corey Emerson, who's currently still single but I think he's going to get a girlfriend soon enough. All three of my boyfriends were very much obsessed with dating, something I lacked which was why the relationships never worked.
In a school of 321 students, your dating choices are limited so you either have to find someone perfect for you, or sadly give up and wait until you leave or maybe hope someone new will arrive. Life's tough like that but sadly something we have to put up with. In small towns your dating and social life can be tiresome and annoying simply because your choice in men and women is incredibly limited, but sometimes you simply have to put up with these factors and simply wait and hope for Mr/Mrs Right to show up at your doorstep, bouquet of flowers in hand.
After I made the obviously uneventful pad downstairs, checked the phone for mom whilst she was out but no-one had decided to call us, and padded into the kitchen, it was already half four in the afternoon. Time really must fly while you're sitting at home wondering what to do. Being a nurse means that my mom has a habit of working at weekends, so I don't see much of her most of the time sadly; she's only really around in the mornings before school, gets home at about ten o'clock at night, and the only day she ever has off is Saturday, so she's usually working if you haven't guessed.
Our kitchen is a kitchen-diner as some people like to call it; basically our kitchen and our dining room are combined together partly because it saves space, but partly because it saved us money when we decided to extend the kitchen. It's painted a light blue colour which might be a bit stupid because of if we ever had little children round, but most of my mom's friends have kids past the age of six so we've been safe so far. Solid, oak wood table and several plastic chairs positioned around it although on an average day to day basis we only need two because it's just me and mom. The floor is wooden like most of our house, bar bedrooms and the bathroom which is tile, because they're easier to clean than carpets. Our entire house is full of cool, light colours, including my own room.
I painted my room a sort of violet colour because it's my favorited colour, even if it has a habit of clashing with my strawberry blonde hair. I own several purple dresses for formal occasions because they're in my favourite colour and don't make my weight balloon too much. I have a large collection of posters, mainly of anime and manga characters, which splatter my walls most time, at both my mom and dad's houses but mom's is overall more covered, because I live there more; a few ornaments here and there, one incredibly expensive one from my grandma, mom's mom, of two dancing sugar plum fairies. The rest are just tat I've bought whilst on holiday's, the odd dolphin or seashell here and then because mom loves the sunshine.
I'm not as bigger fan as her; like I've said, I burn easily during hot weather and only really enjoy going the beach if I'm with friends or I feel awkward when it's just me and mom. Sure, it's funnier with dad and Misha because I'm allowed to take Sallie into the sea for a paddle and go swimming with Owen, but on the odd occasion I talk to other kids on the beach and make a couple of new friends. I even manage to keep in touch with some of them on the odd occasion and have formed some pretty strong friendships. Although sometimes dad lets me take friends with me, because he knows I enjoy spending time with those of my own age, then again who doesn't?
Dad lives in a much busier neighbourhood than mom, meaning there's a lot more kids around, especially because his house is near a large apartment block where a large amount of people around my age live with their families, so naturally I made a couple of friends whilst staying there during the spring, summer, autumn and winter breaks from school. I've even gone down on the odd weekend a couple of times, and met up with my main group of friends there. I was introduced to them through my dad, after he accepted to attend a barbeque based party by one of the inhabitants of the flat block.
That was how I met the oddly named Chastity Zamora. Chastity's mother, Clare, was widowed after her husband, Peter, had died whilst she was pregnant with Chastity but had left her a good life insurance policy which gave her enough money to buy the apartment where her and Chastity, more commonly known as Chas, have lived for the past sixteen and a half years. She never remarried after Peter's death nor apparently has ever had a proper relationship, so Chas has always been an only child, but, lucky for her, she had another girl of her age just next door. That girl would go on to become her best friend.
Lola Jensen is the total opposite of Chas, which makes their friendship borderline funny. Chas is loud, outspoken, friendly, slightly domineering and a little bossy; Lola is meek, quiet, slightly nervous around strangers, easily gets bossed about by others and is very much a follower. They don't even look alike. Chas is African-American, with her father from Uganda and her mother from a small village in the Caribbean; Lola is papery white, sort of creamy coloured; Chas stands at an impressive 5'11" aged just sixteen; Lola turned seventeen recently, and only manages 5'1"; Chas' hair is dark brown, almost black, and incredibly curly in an almost afro fashion; Lola's is cropped short and is a light, caramel colour, slightly darker than my eyes; Chas' dresses in bright colours with dark leather jackets and high boots; while Lola prefers cooler, calmer colours, simple jackets and trainers.
They're my two main friends at dads', although they've introduced me to several other friends of theirs, all of whom seem nice enough and fairly polite. Besides, the best part about visiting Salt Lake City its constant swimming facilities and lakes which are perfect to visit during the summer, and even the spring if it's insufferably warm. Northwest has never reached too much of a high temperature which is why I prefer it here, I couldn't stand living with my father because of the intensely hot weather which is intolerable for someone who prefers the cold like me.
When I was a little girl, I used to ask my mom if we could move to Alaska so I could 'run with the wolves and have a pet one' but my mother politely declined my pleads and I soon began to accept my time in Northwest the more and more friends I began to make. My mom worked long hours as a nurse so I'd often be sent to nurseries or child minders from a young age, despite my mother trying to cut down her work hours until I was older. It was through child minding that I met Vanessa 'Van' Irma Hooper, my soon-to-be-best-friend as I liked to call her. Vanessa was born the daughter of Northwests' Chief of Police, Cary Hooper, and his Egyptian born wife, Raquel, with two siblings, Josef Carey who's currently attending university in Wyoming, and Tabitha Leigh who's a year ahead of us in school and will graduate soon. When she was three she received one more sibling, a little brother, Murray, who died of SIDS when he was still a baby. Her mother developed depression not long after.
I don't see much of Mrs Hooper, even when I sleep over at Vanessa's house. She spends pretty much all of her time in the master bedroom, sleeping, reading or watching television most of the day; the death of Murray accordingly bought clinical depression upon her, and my mother is the one who treats her if she gets especially bad. Being best friends with Raquel's daughter meant our mother's became friends as well because we practically lived at each other's homes from a young age. I don't like asking about Murray because it's an uncomfortable topic, even for Vanessa.
Although she didn't know him that long, she distinctively remembers the night he died. Apparently the entire household went into mass panic, her mother and father were running around, calling ambulances and trying to resuscitate Murray but it didn't work. He'd sadly died during the night of Sudden Infant Death Syndrome, or SIDS as it's more commonly known by most.
Part of me is glad that nothing's ever happened to Sallie or Owen, my half-siblings, because they're good, nice, polite kids and treat me like their big sister who lives there full time. I often take Sallie shopping with me and the two of us often go to lunch together at a café of some sort. She'll usually order something like a burger and fries while I'll usually have the same. Hey, I've never said I've been the highest of standards, and besides, I'm incredibly fussy with food so I enjoy things I know I like. Sallie shares that trait with me and I guess we must've inherited it from dad.
I'm not, and doubt I ever will be, one of those kids who wishes their parents would get back together. Why? Well, my dad is happy with Misha and mom knows she couldn't be the woman dad had an affair with, so they get along well. How does she know? Misha only arrived in America about ten years ago, when I was seven, and my parents split when I was barely a year old. Misha is originally from Latvia, and when she first arrived here she barely spoke a word of English. She met my dad when she was twenty five and he was twenty seven back in 2003, within a year they were engaged and already had Owen. By then, dad had a steady job as a chemist running his own store in Salt Lake City, the precise reason why he and Misha were able to afford to buy their nice house there.
My dad didn't have a job or a source of steady income when I was a two year old girl, the precise reason why he didn't get custody of me. My mom on the other hand, she'd already got a job as a nurse in Northwest and had inherited the house from her deceased father, so she was overall deemed as the fitter parent. Besides, I wouldn't want to leave my mom for my dad, because she's been the one who's raised me all these years and thus, I owe my life to her. I couldn't just jump ship from mom to dad because dad not only has Misha, but he also has Sallie-Barbara and Owen, two things my mother doesn't have.
Most people are shocked when they find out she's my mom, too. They think she's like my older sister or something, assuming her father remarried and got a new wife, resulting in me. But that's very wrong; my mom just had me age nineteen and I've not even turned seventeen yet. She could always have another child but tells me she doesn't want to because of her job and that she'd end up neglecting me to look after her new baby, but I hope she finds a new husband at least, children or not being produced. I'm no mind reader, chlorokinesis is my ability, but I can tell mom really does want another baby, so she can have a child around once I've flown the coop so to speak. Because of my age I'm obviously going to move, so it's inevitable that I'll get a baby sibling if she really wants to have another child; but she's told me she plans on going for fertility treatment if she does eventually decide yes.
Looking up at the plant pots on the window, I realised they looked a little bit droopier than normal. Taking a deep breath, I reached out my hand and slowly drifted it over the plants which immediately perked up the second my thought of 'grow' hit them. My powers work in mysterious ways, but I like them personally. I mean sure, I'm no Wonder Woman, but saving my mom's beloved plants keeps us both happy and I do feel like they're a little special and make me stand out. Call me vain, and I guess I am, but I'm certain there's more people like me out there. I can't be the one human being on earth who can just make plants grow or do things similarly weird and interesting. There's probably much more dangerous, effective powers out there than mine, but if I've learned anything from Mark, plants can be used to protect yourself.
Take a look at Poison Ivy; she used flowers to take down Batman. Sure, being totally gorgeous, seductive and manipulative helped, but the plant control protected her when it didn't work on him. I've never exactly been a comic book fan, but I've read a couple with Mark when I've gone round to his. He's collected all the Iron Mans up to date, most of which his father used to own, and is now planning on doing the same with The Avengers. I'm not sure if he's either into Marvel or DC more because he has the odd collection of either, all I know is that he's one big comic book fan boy.
The sound of the latch clicking brought me back to my senses from plant saving and I realised it was mom arriving home to make dinner. She's allowed an hour break to come home and have tea with me before she returns to the hospital to finish her shift, but I don't mind too much. Tea, doing my homework, watching some telly or listening to music, sometimes both, then bed is a normal routine for me. I usually shower before bed or have a bath, but sometimes I decide to do it in the morning so I'm generally fresher for school. I planned on doing it that night and went towards the front door to greet her.