Talisa Glace-Blanche of Queen Street
Hello everyone, and welcome to TGBOQS! Welp, looks like I'm off my vacay! As you can see, I like having a Snow Pea as a protagonist . . . haha. I decided to give it a rewrite . . . because I felt like it.
Enjoy, and have fun, mi cielos!
CHAPTER 1: Shadows
S-shadows.
Y-you know . . . the scary kinds . . .
The kinds that . . . that follow you . . .
The ones that strike fear into every nerve in your body . . .
In short . . .
The . . . the shadows that haunt you . . . almost kill you . . . make you feel like you're about to die at the hands of evil. Hatred. F-fear . . .
I was walking along the streets of Downtown, slithering shadows with eyes like burning coals surrounding me. I pulled my shawl closer in a futile attempt to shut out the numbness that seemed to blossom and spread over my body like a violent virus. And hey, get this ― I'm a Snow Pea! I'm not supposed to feel shivers . . .
But I digress . . .
I soon heard shrieks and cries of wild, humourless and terrifying laughter behind me. Probably the wind . . . I reassured myself. But the laughs got closer. Louder. And the numb, unpleasant feeling of dead only increased. My slow, unsure walking soon sped up to a considerably faster, more confident jog, which finally reconstructed itself into a nimble, light and sanguine dart. The shadows only drew closer, and the cold fingers of Death itself seemed to be tightening at my throat until I choked and sputtered, gasping for air, eyes watery and sore. A bit more running . . . C'mon . . . I recited in my head like mantra, as Casa Loma came into my field of vision. In this terrible lighting, it cast a ghostly silhouette over the hill it was on. Adrenalin pulsing through my veins, I made a dash fir the castle, but the shadows drew nearer yet again. They seemed to whisper my name in such a way that I trembled and shook as I did my damndest to climb up to the roof using the ivy tendrils as footholds. After what seemed like hours, I was almost there. Until . . .
CREAK . . .
The vine I was holding started to sag and the shadows hissed sour breath onto my face as the vine snapped completely and fell away, leaving me to drop to my death as she shadows loped and twisted, revelling in my demise . . .
I jolted awake, cold beads of sweat rolling down my face, freezing and falling away. Wow, I thought. Ain't I lucky it was all a dream . . .
But . . . it seemed so real . . .
I looked out my window, and saw that it was dawn. I looked down at my sweat-soaked sheets and sighed out of sheer exasperation. Looks like I'm gonna have lots of laundry to do soon. Hopping out of bed, I ripped my sheets and blanket off my mattress, wrapped them into a small bundle, and I was down the stairs in a flash. I found my mother in the living room, carrying the laundry basket down to the basement.
"Here, mom. I'll carry it." I said as I stuffed my bundle of the into the wickerwork basket, took it into my arms and started towards the basement.
"Oh, thank you so much Talisa." my mother whispered to me as we descended down to the lowest floor of our little apartment on Queen Street.
See, my mother is my best friend. She's my only friend. She named me Talisa after her mother, and she slapped her first name after that: Alessia. I call my mother my best friend because she'd give an ear when something was bugging me, we'd share jokes and funny memories while we washed towels, blankets and shawls. My mother loved me no matter what. If I accidentally set fire to our tenants' house, she would scold me, before giving me one of her killer hugs. When I felt mad and took it out on her, she would yell back at me . . . and then a few hours later, we make up. Another reason why my mother is my best friend is that she worked her ass off for me. Sure, she might not have been the most beautiful Snow Pea on the street, but she had the leaves and will of a mother that cared so much about her only daughter. That made her really beautiful. But what's really, really, bugging me as we discuss politics over washing sheets is that she's very stressed. She seemed to start acting like this ever since . . . yeesh, I'd rather not talk about it. Bottom line is, my mother loves me in a way that's beyond words, and I love her in the exact same way, period. End of discussion.
So why then . . . Why can't I tell her about a stinking nightmare?!
"Talisa dear? You look troubled. What's eating you?" my mother asked as we finished scrubbing the last towels.
"It's fine, mom. I've been like this ever since . . . y'know . . ." I muttered.
My mother didn't look satisfied, but she accepted my explanation anyways. As we ascended the stairs, I felt like something bad, ugly and terrible was going to take place . . .
What's up, little plant?
You're acting stank!
Why can't you stick to the simple plan?
Your mama don't know
Nobody will know
Till you speak up and tell us what's makin ya stank!
A/N: Dat is a wrap for chapter 1! How was that? Plz review! ;)