One Wierdo Family, Odd Rumors, and the Over Usage of Quotation Marks
It was a wonderful August day in Tokyo. The shy was a musky grey, full of clouds that blocked out the poor sun. People hid in their houses huddling together for the same reason why this authoress decided to write her fanfiction: we were bored. It would rain soon, and this was made evident to one Momomiya Currant as a rather large raindrop fell out of the sky and dropped on to her head. Now, had Currant been a normal teenage girl, she would had said something around the lines of 'Omg, Rain!" or "Ew! My hair!1". But ofcourse, the fourteen year old was not normal what-so-ever. Instead of freaking out like some ninny, she ignored the rather rude piece of fallen water and went about her way.
There were many rumors about a place called 'the hill'. On 'the hill' was a very old victorian-style house. Some said that it was haunted. Others said that it badly needed a paint job. For the record, only the second one was right. A family lived in this victorian house upon 'the hill'. They were what the general public called 'A crack family of four' or, The Momomiya's. The mother was a hardworking, underpaid waitress at the local restaurant. She had a short temper and was a bit of a ditz. And then there was the father. He was lazy, immature, and left everything up to his 'lovely' wife whom he particularly enjoyed calling 'old hag'. Besides the constant shouting that came from the two, nothing much was known about him. But it was known that once the duo had been a happy couple back in their thirties. But sadly, it only lasted about two months after the second child, Rhubarb, was born.
And as the first born, Currant, looked at her driveway that wrapped tightly around the small hill, she wondered what shinanigans her parents were pulling now. A large television suddenly burst through the far left window followed by some screaming and more shouts of 'old hag'. There was Currant's answer. She shrugged and started up the hill towards her house, pausing only once to examine the previously thrown television. Hmm... Since when did the Momomiya's get a 24" flat screen?
"Outtamywai!" screamed a voice as Currant approached the open screen door. The rusted entrance suddenly burst off of its hinges and was knocked halfway down 'the hill' and a blur of horribly blinding pink rushed out. The cause of this sudden outburst was none other than Momomiya Rhubarb. Rhubarb was well known among many as an extremely destructive girl, able to punch a hole in thick concrete or literally rip a door off of its hinges if she was angry. When Rhubarb was around, most people weren't. But another major quality known about the ten year old, was her extreme love for cosplay. Rhubarb loved, among anything else in the whole world, to cosplay and prance aroun as her favorite anime characters. And today, Rhubarb was dressed up as none other than Pink Pearl Voice from Mermaid Melody. She wore a wig of obviously fake blond hair in two sinking pigtails. Her outfit was pink and frilly aswell as too big on her. (So much, infact, that she had to use a ribbon and two straps to hold it up.)
Currant being Currant, ignored her sister's brash instruction and stared at the younger girl with a blank expression on her face. She was quite used to Rhubarb's nasty behaviour and usually ignored it.
"Krah! Stupid, loser, dumbo!" Rhu shouted at the older girls face. Here's another thing, when Momomiya Rhubarb didn't get her way, 'bad' things happened. Usually these 'things' were mild yelling and cursing. (Which she picked up from her father) But since today was a supposedly 'wonderful' day, the strange gods of mojo and randomness had seemed to have taken their toll on the cosplaying freak. It so happened that along with her overly pink pop-idol costume, was the shiny blue microphone that the mermaids used to 'attack' the baddies. With one foul swoop in the air, 'Pink Pearl Voice' pulled her 'weapon' out of an invisible pocket and 'attacked'.
"Love Shower Pitch!" she cried out nearly bursting poor Currant's ear drums. (Not that she cared anyways) But in stead of her 'victum' writhing in pain because of her uber fantastically-fantastic singing powah, the ten year old used her mini microphone's more useful ability. Rhubarb jumped up and promptly slammed the hard piece of cheap, blue plastic down onto her sister's red head. Currant stared at her for a moment and then without another hesistation, fell with a thump! on to the ground; knoocked out.