Turtle: Hey, guys. First chapter. This story will be updated every two or three weeks, so updates will always be here. The countries don't really get involved for a while, so you're going to have to be a little patient. Gecko and Ghouti are still sleeping, like any sane person should be doing, so that's why they're not here with me...anyway, enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.
Stomp. Stomp. Stomp. Stomp.
"Son of a bitch."
Calista Carlos swore violently under her breath, hesitating slightly before lashing out, taking her anger out on a nearby tree. The foot that made contact landed awkwardly, and the teen let out a loud, "Aw, FUCK!" And wobbled unsteadily on her other foot, shaking out the pain, glaring at the sturdy tree angrily. Not that it deserved it, but why the hell should she care? The damn thing didn't have nearly as many problems as she did.
First of all, life was crap. Her grades were failing. Her social life was not looking any better. And the worst part about it was that Calista only felt like bitching. Her parents weren't helping either… 'Why don't you try harder? You're smart enough.' And on and on…her parents didn't understand. How could they? They had long since outgrown their teenage years, and they sure weren't looking back.
(Don't get her wrong, she loved her parents. It was just that they expected way more than she could really give.)
This was one of those days where she didn't want to deal with anything—not her antagonizing classmates, not her disapproving teachers, not her disappointed parents—nothing. And there was this forest sitting so conveniently behind the school. You know, Calista thought moodily, they really should've expected this, building in front of a forest. It's like they were asking for people to freaking skip.
And so, Calista continued stomping (limping) as loud as she possibly could through the lush green forest of New York…
Heather Brenards was not a delinquent.
She did not skip.
She did not break the rules, or do anything of the sort.
And yet, she found herself staring wistfully into the forest and it's cool, welcoming embrace, wanting nothing more than to walk right into there and lose herself in it. School was pressing in on her lately, stressing her out more than usual.
She had her hiking pack with her; it would only take a few minutes and to retrieve it and escape into the sanctuary. It was very, very tempting; she wondered if her parents would notice her vanishing. You have to be a good influence on your little brother, she told herself chidingly. Heather sighed, and turned away—only to stiffen as the pull of the forest called a little louder, tugging her in.
Surely…it couldn't hurt. Could it? Her little brother didn't have to find out. And what her parents didn't know wouldn't hurt them. It would only…
Moments later, her backpack was secured on her back, and she was crashing happily through the undergrowth. Well not really crashing. She was actually being very quiet—sometimes Heather felt more at home in the woods than in her own house. And it had been a very long time since she'd been in the forest by herself; more often than not she'd be leading a couple of noisy brats through well-beaten paths. It wasn't that the kids tried to be annoying and loud; they just naturally scared off the majority of the wildlife, which made everything a little less exciting than it usually was.
But now Heather could fully appreciate the sounds of the forest; the trills of the birds, the soft rustle of rabbits and squirrels, the loud thump of a dangerous predator—
What?
She froze, and listened harder, clenching her eyes shut in concentration. Yes, there was definitely the loud crashing of a large predator; she needed to get somewhere high, or she'd be eaten…!
As swiftly as Heather could, she scaled a tall tree, making it fifteen feet off the ground before finally catching sight of the creature that was making so much noise.
It was a teenager, someone who looked vaguely familiar, but Heather couldn't quite place where she'd seen the face. She girl had iron grey shoes with orange and red laces (and was limping ever so slightly for some reason), dark blue jeans reaching up to her thighs before it was covered by an ebony black sweater with a long hood. She had olive skin and hazel green eyes, crazy brown hair fairly stuffed into a scrunchie, though it looked like she was fighting a losing battle. She could've been quite pretty, if it weren't for her deep, dark scowl, and furious flashing eyes.
And she was so familiar.
Heather wiggled curiously on her branch, trying to get a better look. The girl didn't look like any of the other juniors in her class, but for some reason she felt as though they'd met before.
The teen stalked near her branch just as Heather's foot slipped.
She let out a sharp cry of surprise, and fell to the ground.
Veronica ran a hand through her silvery-blond hair, suddenly feeling pleased that she hadn't put her hair up in a ponytail today. Just for the purpose of running her hand through her hair. Because it was just one of those days—when nothing seemed to be going right.
Her friends were insufferable. She didn't even know why she hung out with them—they were idiots, through and through. Shallow, dumb, girly, take your pick. Veronica had more brains than all of them put together, but that wasn't a very hard feat to pull off. Anyone could be smarter than all of her friends put together.
And today, it had simply been too much. For some reason, she couldn't put up with them. It had taken everything she had not to start snapping at her oblivious little idiots, and it had taken more than that not to start getting violent at the lockers. It had been obvious that Veronica wouldn't have been able to make it through the day, so the only option had been to skip. I'm not the first, she thought, brightening slightly. My brothers have all those crazy stories from all the times they skipped.
Her mom had given up trying to control her five brothers, and though she had done her best to do better by Veronica, it was a losing battle.
Veronica sighed. Right now she needed a distraction. Something to take her mind off of things. As nice as the gentle whooshing as the river was, it was just soothing, it couldn't take her mind off this depressing track.
Her distraction came in the form of two teenagers rolling down the hill, heading straight for her.
Normally, she would've been able to dodge. But she was so shocked by the sight of the tan, blue, and black blur screaming through the underbrush, Veronica only moved when it was much too late.
Something slammed into her legs—they flew out from under her—she was crashing down the hill, clutching onto something black, fabric?—they took to the air—
And flew straight into the river.
Veronica broke the surface with a gasp, the cold water shaking her from her surprised stupor. There was only time for a quick breath before the current pulled her back under. For a few seconds she was tossed back and forth through the raging waters, but the cold shock of her chilled surroundings forced her mind to clear. She wheeled her arms frantically—remembered how to swim—and then pushed herself to the bank, grabbing onto a branch reaching out to her. Coughing and gasping, she lay on her hands and knees, coaxing the water from her lungs, before flopping onto the bank.
So tired…She thought, slowly closing her eyes.
"Hey, are you alright?" Someone nudged Veronica's shoulder. She looked up.
A teen, sopping wet, sat above her, dirty-blond hair dripping water onto her face. She had pale skin and grey-violet eyes, and wore a tan jacket that pooled around her thighs. Her loose blue jeans stuck to her legs, outlining her brownish hiking boots clearly. She had a piercing, intelligent gaze, which was also calming and kind, at the moment. One of the most prominent things about her was her unusually large nose; it didn't look bad, per se. Just odd. Also, when the teen rose to her feet, Veronica realized the girl was very, very tall. And that she was wearing a black bandana with bright yellow sunflowers around her forehead.
For some reason, she was also very…familiar.
It took a moment for Veronica to realize that the strange girl was still expecting an answer. "Uh…yeah. I'm fine." She got out. "What happened?"
"My fault." The girl grunted, scratching her hair, which was up in a ponytail. "I fell on top of her." She jerked her head to the black and dark-blue form lying on the ground, curled up and sopping wet. At the moment, the figure wasn't doing much, so Veronica ignored her. "We rolled down the hill and fell into the river."
"Oh." Great, just another thing to add to her terrible day. For a second, she hesitated. "Do I…know you?"
The teen looked at her sharply, grey eyes boring into her. "You look familiar to me, too. I'm Heather Brenards. I go to the school nearby."
"Junior?"
"Yeah."
Huh. They must be in the same class. Heather didn't seem like a bad person—why hadn't they noticed each other before? "I'm Veronica Barrett."
There was that awkward silence when no one knew what to say, and no one wanted to say anything to move the elephant sitting on the air.
Finally, Veronica decided to test the waters. She'd had enough experience dealing with people—at least her dumb friends were good for something: social skills. "What about her?"
"I think she might've hit her head." Heather shrugged, glancing over when the black and blue figure stirred, groaning quietly. The two of them heard her mutter something that sounded suspiciously like, "Aw, fuck…" And then Veronica caught sight of two wide hazel-green eyes before they narrowed into little black slits.
"Hi." Veronica said pleasantly.
The girl stared at her warily, (well, more glared), and said in a tired, dark voice, "…Hello. Who are you guys?"
…unpleasant much?
"Heather." The taller girl grunted, sending the paranoid teen a half-smile, obviously trying to be pleasant to the moody girl.
The teen turned her eyes expectantly on Veronica, who felt highly affronted and really didn't want to introduce herself. Instead, she glared back, and growled, "Why don't you introduce yourself first?"
"I don't think I will." The teen rumbled. For several chilly, tense minutes, the two glared at each other, trying to stare each other down. Veronica lifted one eyebrow, her brown eyes cool and lightless. The other girl's eyebrows angrily deepened, her already-narrowed eyes sharpening ever-so-slightly. Finally, Heather glanced between the glowering pair, and suddenly smiled, very creepily. The temperature dropped at least twenty degrees.
"Why don't we all get along? How about we all introduce ourselves?"
Veronica shivered, actually a little intimidated by the taller girl, and it usually took a lot to scare her. Thank God she seemed like a pacifist. "…I'm Veronica." She spat through gritted teeth, keeping her eyes trained on the other teen. "Who are you?"
The teen glanced up at Heather suspiciously, narrowing her eyes with…what was it? Disbelief? Fear? Veronica couldn't tell.
"I'm…Calista." She said reluctantly, as though it pained her to speak. "Now where are we?"
As a general rule, Calista did not like people, and people did not like her. She just didn't get along with anyone in her class—now that she thought about it, she didn't get along with anyone she met. The only people who could put up with her were her parents, and they were supposed to love her. Actually, she kind of doubted that they like her all that much anyway. They probably only felt some sort of obligation to pretend to like her because they were family.
But anyway, she did not like these strange people that she'd (literally) crashed into; and this was not helped by her pounding head. Most likely a concussion, Calista realized as she prodded the tender bump forming on her head, and let out a soft groan, which her other two companions ignored steadfastly.
Speaking of them, it was obvious to her that she and Veronica would not get along. They were simply too different; Calista didn't like talking to people and rarely gave her respect to anyone, while Veronica expected to respected and talked to. This created such a violent rub between the two of them that they most likely would never be able to talk without arguing.
Calista acknowledged this with a sigh. Just another person she'd have to avoid.
Heather, however, was someone else entirely. She seemed patient and reasonable, able to put up with Calista's thorny attitude instead of pushing her away like everyone else always did.
Maybe…they could be friends?
But…no one had ever wanted to be her friend before. Dammit, quit being a wimp and stop bitching, she spat to herself. Who would want to be friends with a loser like you?
She'd been so focused on mentally berating herself that she hadn't noticed the other two stopping until she'd ran straight into them. As Calista stumbled back, however, she caught her foot on a root and crashed into the ground, her ankle letting out a painful pang. "Aw, fuck!" She shouted, gripping the injured appendage in her two hands, cursing angrily under her breath, completely ignoring Heather and Veronica's odd stares.
"Why the hell did we stop?" Calista shouted angrily, face creased into an angry snarl.
"That," Heather said simply, and pointed off into the trees.
Calista followed the direction the finger was pointing, and let her eyes rest on a big, Victorian-styled house in front of them. It was the nicest house she'd ever seen, but also probably the creepiest, too. It had that old Vicky-style feel that had always freaked her out, and there were vines crawling all over the cream walls and the cracked windows, trees casting dark shadows on the tall structure. It was three stories tall, and obviously had been abandoned a long time ago.
The three were silent for several seconds. Then, Heather asked softly, "Are we going inside?"
Calista opened her mouth to immediately say no, because that house was creeping the shit out of her even if she'd never admit it out loud, but was immediately overruled by Veronica's enthusiastic, "Hell yeah we are!"
The teen glared at Veronica, and rose to her feet. "No way! What if the floors collapse or some shit like that?"
"I wasn't talking to you." Veronica said, looking scathingly over at Calista. "I was talking to Heather. If she wants to, of course." She said as an afterthought. "Besides, the more danger the better!"
They both looked at the taller girl, who shrugged. "I don't care."
"Then come on!" Veronica shouted, latching onto Heather's arm and pulling her towards the creepy house.
Calista shook her head in disgust, and turned back to the forest—only to realize that it had gotten darker and the mood of the house was spreading and seriously starting to freak her out. The last thing she wanted to do was go waltzing through the forest.
She looked back at the house, cursed violently under her breath, and hurried after Heather and Veronica.
So what have we established?
Calista is kind of a jerk, Veronica is a leader, and Heather just doesn't care.
Excellent. No other comments thus far.
Gheckle Touko
