I had really wanted to do this on what was going on in the world right after TLO… however I noticed I was writing in 200 word shorts, and that would've been really boring for someone. So… yeah… you won't be hearing about that stuff until… well… I feel like it. I guess I should probably stop trailing off… however… I'm really tired… so… well… I'll just leave this note here and continue on.
Alright, so as said above, I really wanted to write about what was happening directly after 'Prologue : The Fall' not like Autumn because I'm not exactly sure what time of year it was in TLO… Anyway, I had to have rewritten this chapter a few times because I'm uber fail like that.
Chapter 1 : The Beginning of My Ending
When people have bad days, they usually mutter something like, "I hate my life." I really hate it when people say that, because if they were in my dirty, worn out converse, they would be thankful for everything they're given. I mean, my life isn't that bad, but it could be better.
My mother is a pastry chef in this tiny little café here in California. She's always working. Don't get me wrong, she's a wonderful mom, but I don't see her much. I know we have financial problems, but whenever we have plans she always has to stay at work. I really don't see how, I mean, there are plenty of chefs at the café, but I guess we're just incredibly unlucky.
My father isn't around, I never met him. Apparently, he had the most dazzling smile, but was he only good looking? I mean, he left her. I wouldn't be as much of a burden if he had stayed and married her. He must've just wanted to have a one night stand.
But you know, I was the product of… er… that. And I don't look very alike to my mother, Leah. It's not exactly easy to convince people that she's my biological mother. She has these wildish fiery curls that frame her freckled face and the rest is normally pulled up in this messy bun. She says most of my looks come from my father. And that is why I dye my hair this chocolate brown once a month, why I wear contacts, and why there are no mirrors in my room… But let's get back to topic.
Selfish people out there, you know? My mother deserves better than being treated like a rag doll. Like she was something easily disposed of. But, she's deluded into thinking that this man is wonderful. It really sucks that this person is my dad. He's only my dad biologically. And he didn't even visit-
"Miss Serenata," interrupted my English teacher. English wasn't my strong subject, to be honest. I mean, I'm diagnosed with dyslexia and ADHD. So how can I sit still when I have to write a five paragraph essay while the words are swimming around on the page and all I hear is the drone of a teacher's lecture. I'm not the only one, it just seems that Mr. Webb is always picking on me to do some stupid things, like clapping erasers. Now, it was a fun task, but when you have a black uniform skirt it gets kind of annoying. And also stuff like checking if all his pens had ink. I still don't see why he doesn't just get those clear ones, but it must amuse him to watch me try to disassemble a pen and try to get it to work. Oh, and another time I was supposed to arrange all of the Monopoly money in piles and put them in their right places. Thing was, there was this three foot tall stack of these games in the third grade room and I had to make sure every box had the same amount of money.
"Yes, Mr. Webb?" I said, hoping he wouldn't trace any dullness in my tone. It was hard to conceal, we'd had him for forty or so minutes and half the class was dozing off. What bothered me most was how he only noticed me.
"Would you tell me what I just said?"
"Uh, Miss Serenata?" I said smartly.
"I'll be seeing you after school, then, Miss Carter. Detention for two hours." I banged my head against the desk just as the bell rang. I didn't bother getting up. Mr. Webb's class was my last period class.
"I don't appreciate your ungrateful behavior, Serenata. Missy, will you please stay here while I write this on her permanent record?" Oh, of course, everything goes on my permanent record.
"Of course, Mr. Webb. It'll be my pleasure to see that Carter stays here." Kiss up. I glared at the cheerleader that had to be a year or two older than me. She was an uppity, anorexic girl. Those two things seriously shouldn't go together. She hated me too, for some reason, and called me by my last name.
"It's nice to know that you'll never change, Missy," I grumbled disdainfully, "Not eating these days?"
She turned, narrowed her eyes at me, and murmured, "Oh, I've been waiting for this moment for weeks," completely ignoring my insult. And a scowl graced her face and for a moment I saw a donkey leg. This would've been one of those moments where you say, what the…, but no, I just fell off my chair in laughter.
"This is a joke, right?" I was shaking with laughter. But when she advanced, and I saw the other leg was bronze, I leaned back in horror.
She threw a fit. "Why does everyone make fun of the legs?" Her face paled, and her eyes reddened in fury. And you know what else? She sprouted fangs.
Oh, this was nice. The day was just getting better and better.
"You look absolutely yummy, even though I can't feed from girls… Ah, it's always good to try new things, isn't it?"
"Vampire!" I shrieked, "Cannibal!"
"I'm not a vampire, you fool! The silly legend was based on us! We are empousai, servants of Hecate."
Hecate… wasn't that some Greek goddess? Oh well. She looked like a mix of-
"Dark magic formed us from animal, bronze and ghost! Now die Serenata Carter!" She bared her fangs and jumped upon the desk for leverage. I bit my lip and prayed that this was a dream or something, and if it wasn't then...
I rolled out of the way as she pounced, and clumsily hit my head on the metal leg of another desk. I scrambled to right myself, and ran to the other side of the room. Missy, or whatever currently possessed her, hissed. Quick thinking led to my hands grabbing the old weaponry nailed on the walls like they did in movies. Thank god that this room doubled as the history-
"I doubt you can even string a bow, Carter."
I looked down and found a wooden bow in my sweaty hands. I really didn't know, but as she approached I swung it into the side of her head. Her bony fingers grasped for something, anything, and they landed at my neck. On my battered scar-
And her eyes suddenly widened in some type of realization. But she didn't have a chance when something pierced her back. She melted into a pile of sand.
"Miss Carter, are you alright?"
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