Carrie: Hello & welcome to my new Fanfic!
Charlie: may there be a just and loving god in this world after this..
Carrie: *sweatdrop* SHADAP YOU! Anyway, on with the disclaimer
Disclaimer- I don't own the Harry Potter Characters in any possible way
Carrie: if I did I would have-
Charlie: Please don't share your sick sexual fantasies with the readers Hun.there may be vulnerable beings out there ::points to the VR::
Carrie: -_-+ I was only going to say that I would glomp Draco till he died that's all!
Charlie: *crosses her arms* I know you to well babez
Carrie: ugh fine..On with the bloody fic please
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MINI CHAP: Enter Charlie
Hello...my name is Charlie.
Charlie Angel for the record.
In my day and age, summer has come.
I pray for fall again.
It is the middle of July currently and if you live in a small village were there is no possible way of transporting yourself to a mall, then well my friend, you're screwed.
Yes, I have been isolated in my house, without means of transportation, here is why. My mother, or step-mom, has gone to her home town in South America currently, and will not be able to take me to the mall or movies for another month ½. Sadly for my dad, he has work all day. So I am experiencing fall anxiety.
Oh yeah, it's a normal summers day for me.
Lately though, I've been feeling as though I have been forgotten by the people I loved, my friends. Looking up at my peach colored ceiling in a dazed sort of way, I can hear some movement from the 1st floor of the house.
To put into understanding, this is the house plan thus far.
The ground floor a.k.a the 1st floor, is where the large screen TV and fridge are kept, also the front door to the real world.
Oh joy.
The upstairs a.k.a the 2nd floor, is where the people of the house (me, my brother, mum, ad' etc) sleep and take showers. Or in my case, recollect their sanity
My room is the only one that has the color black, fitted onto a once white dresser, and also allows dead flowers to decorate its shelves. They mostly consist of Roses, for they are my "Cosmic flower" (I donno, I read it somewhere and it grew on me) so my room is a constant smell of death as well. Personally, I love it
And finally, my favorite floor. The basement, is where the computer is kept..
My sanctuary.
So here I am, lying on my bed staring at the peach color ceiling, thinking of ways to differ my room more from the rest of the house, when there is a knock at my door.
I turned my head and spoke in a monotone like voice to the sound
"Yeah?"
The door opens to reveal a 6ft tall, slightly balding man, his grey hair thinning from age, with glasses larger than they should be allowed.
It was my father.
He spoke in such a tone that could mean one thing.
Work.
He looked at me with his large magnified eyes "We're going out for a while, could you clean the attic in the mean time?"
Even though he makes it a question, I will end up doing it anyway. So I don't bother replying with a reasonable answer in my part.
"Sure, why the hell not"
He looks at me sternly "watch your language young lady" I am taken aback at his comment. Young Lady?
To put into contrast of what I am like, I will give you a simple description. My main outfit that I am now wearing is a plane white tank- top, nothing on it, with an army grey, cargo type, caprees*. But atop of my tank-top I wear a hooded sweater that shows a Skull and the word LOST on the front when you zip it up. I wear no belt with it because it fits so perfectly well with my lower hips. I wear glass yes, black think ones almost like drew carry, only squarer.
My face is slightly round with high cheek bones. I have normal weight standards, mind you, my arms are semi-scrawny, but they know a hard day of house work many a time. My legs are a normal likeness, more muscular because I took up walking more often. My eyes are color changeable, oh yeah; they change from green to grey for my moods.
Green = good/normal/happy/etc ; Grey = sad/mad/guilty/ stay away from me..
My hair, is short, not short short, but short. Meaning there is enough back there to tie into a mini rats tail, my bangs are starting to try and past my eyes. Right now they're somewhat IN my eyes, so every time I get my hair wet, I brush it all back for a nice sleek look. So that every time it dries, it parts and makes an arch on both sides.
Now, make-up. I question the use of it. Sure I'm almost pale as a sheet, but who cares. I'm part Irish, I burn easier thank anything, that's why I stay in the dark basement. But don't get me wrong! I have a little tan here and there. But nothing to brag about. But my friends say I would look good in make-up, maybe I should consider wearing it sometime.
That would be the day.
Not noticing my facial expression, he turns from my door and walks down the hall. As I listen to him thump like an elephant down the stares, I sigh and take a remote in my hand. I point the remote to my silent 6 year old stereo and press ON. It turns over and automatically changes to the CD player and plays the first CD it happens to land on, which is a good thing for I have no other CD's in the damned thing.
Corny beach music plays as "Splendora" sings
La-la la la la
Turn the sun down, turn the sun...down...
I sigh as I flip my body over to stare at the window, I decide to sing along to the words as I know the song all to well.
Oh no! Don't say surfs up, I don't hang ten.
Infact I hang none.
Dig the under toe, hurry up and go
Maybe..someone could turn down the sun
I hear in a distance a car driving of a gravel road.
They finally left.
I continued to sing to the song as they drive away.
Where's Jaws, when you need him. Assume no need, would just be too grand.
Hey don't block my shade, hold the lemonade.
Maybe..someone could turn down the sun
Turn the sun down, turn the sun down.
Turn the sun...down...
Finally, after much excess boredom into what is left of my brain. I slowly get up from my bed and head down the hall to the master bedroom, were the only access to the Attic lies.
Carrie: *sweatdrop* SHADAP YOU! Anyway, on with the disclaimer
Disclaimer- I don't own the Harry Potter Characters in any possible way
Carrie: if I did I would have-
Charlie: Please don't share your sick sexual fantasies with the readers Hun.there may be vulnerable beings out there ::points to the VR::
Carrie: -_-+ I was only going to say that I would glomp Draco till he died that's all!
Charlie: *crosses her arms* I know you to well babez
Carrie: ugh fine..On with the bloody fic please
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_- _-_-_-_-
MINI CHAP: Enter Charlie
Hello...my name is Charlie.
Charlie Angel for the record.
In my day and age, summer has come.
I pray for fall again.
It is the middle of July currently and if you live in a small village were there is no possible way of transporting yourself to a mall, then well my friend, you're screwed.
Yes, I have been isolated in my house, without means of transportation, here is why. My mother, or step-mom, has gone to her home town in South America currently, and will not be able to take me to the mall or movies for another month ½. Sadly for my dad, he has work all day. So I am experiencing fall anxiety.
Oh yeah, it's a normal summers day for me.
Lately though, I've been feeling as though I have been forgotten by the people I loved, my friends. Looking up at my peach colored ceiling in a dazed sort of way, I can hear some movement from the 1st floor of the house.
To put into understanding, this is the house plan thus far.
The ground floor a.k.a the 1st floor, is where the large screen TV and fridge are kept, also the front door to the real world.
Oh joy.
The upstairs a.k.a the 2nd floor, is where the people of the house (me, my brother, mum, ad' etc) sleep and take showers. Or in my case, recollect their sanity
My room is the only one that has the color black, fitted onto a once white dresser, and also allows dead flowers to decorate its shelves. They mostly consist of Roses, for they are my "Cosmic flower" (I donno, I read it somewhere and it grew on me) so my room is a constant smell of death as well. Personally, I love it
And finally, my favorite floor. The basement, is where the computer is kept..
My sanctuary.
So here I am, lying on my bed staring at the peach color ceiling, thinking of ways to differ my room more from the rest of the house, when there is a knock at my door.
I turned my head and spoke in a monotone like voice to the sound
"Yeah?"
The door opens to reveal a 6ft tall, slightly balding man, his grey hair thinning from age, with glasses larger than they should be allowed.
It was my father.
He spoke in such a tone that could mean one thing.
Work.
He looked at me with his large magnified eyes "We're going out for a while, could you clean the attic in the mean time?"
Even though he makes it a question, I will end up doing it anyway. So I don't bother replying with a reasonable answer in my part.
"Sure, why the hell not"
He looks at me sternly "watch your language young lady" I am taken aback at his comment. Young Lady?
To put into contrast of what I am like, I will give you a simple description. My main outfit that I am now wearing is a plane white tank- top, nothing on it, with an army grey, cargo type, caprees*. But atop of my tank-top I wear a hooded sweater that shows a Skull and the word LOST on the front when you zip it up. I wear no belt with it because it fits so perfectly well with my lower hips. I wear glass yes, black think ones almost like drew carry, only squarer.
My face is slightly round with high cheek bones. I have normal weight standards, mind you, my arms are semi-scrawny, but they know a hard day of house work many a time. My legs are a normal likeness, more muscular because I took up walking more often. My eyes are color changeable, oh yeah; they change from green to grey for my moods.
Green = good/normal/happy/etc ; Grey = sad/mad/guilty/ stay away from me..
My hair, is short, not short short, but short. Meaning there is enough back there to tie into a mini rats tail, my bangs are starting to try and past my eyes. Right now they're somewhat IN my eyes, so every time I get my hair wet, I brush it all back for a nice sleek look. So that every time it dries, it parts and makes an arch on both sides.
Now, make-up. I question the use of it. Sure I'm almost pale as a sheet, but who cares. I'm part Irish, I burn easier thank anything, that's why I stay in the dark basement. But don't get me wrong! I have a little tan here and there. But nothing to brag about. But my friends say I would look good in make-up, maybe I should consider wearing it sometime.
That would be the day.
Not noticing my facial expression, he turns from my door and walks down the hall. As I listen to him thump like an elephant down the stares, I sigh and take a remote in my hand. I point the remote to my silent 6 year old stereo and press ON. It turns over and automatically changes to the CD player and plays the first CD it happens to land on, which is a good thing for I have no other CD's in the damned thing.
Corny beach music plays as "Splendora" sings
La-la la la la
Turn the sun down, turn the sun...down...
I sigh as I flip my body over to stare at the window, I decide to sing along to the words as I know the song all to well.
Oh no! Don't say surfs up, I don't hang ten.
Infact I hang none.
Dig the under toe, hurry up and go
Maybe..someone could turn down the sun
I hear in a distance a car driving of a gravel road.
They finally left.
I continued to sing to the song as they drive away.
Where's Jaws, when you need him. Assume no need, would just be too grand.
Hey don't block my shade, hold the lemonade.
Maybe..someone could turn down the sun
Turn the sun down, turn the sun down.
Turn the sun...down...
Finally, after much excess boredom into what is left of my brain. I slowly get up from my bed and head down the hall to the master bedroom, were the only access to the Attic lies.