NoAlias: Thanks for getting my ass back in gear. I agree with you I did get
a little lazy with a few of those chapters. I was so busy trying to rush
into the past life action that I should've known better. As always, stay
true to your critic self in your reviews because they help me a lot.
Calen: I would like you to know I still have a few tricks up my sleeve with Victoria. Of course, you will just have to keep reading to figure out what they are. Hopefully, once the story has concluded you will like how it all ends.
Willows2: I really did have a lot of fun with chapter 18. It was the first time I got to wake up Wyatt and not have him be comatose to whole the situation. Plus, I loved, loved, loved having all the characters interact with one another with each of their personalities diversities. Oh, and it's totally understandable that it took you awhile to get into the story. I mean really, it took this many chapters to get everyone in "agreement" over the whole Victoria situation let alone interact with one another like they do on the show.
Shortie: Thankies for the reviews. I hope you love it. I'm so happy to hear you're addicted to it. Tis a great ego booster. See you at work.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------
In their past life their names were:
Chris= William
Wyatt= Andrew
Prue= P. Bowen
Piper= P. Bexter
Phoebe= P. Russel
Victoria= Valerie
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------------
The smell of loblolly pine trees invaded Andrew's senses as he arrived at the tall red brick house. It was her house. Valerie's. The girl he was supposed to be withs home.
He'd known that they were supposed to be together since the moment that they'd met.
It had been a cold day in late October. She'd stood out of the crowd. Everyone had went to the funeral wearing black, but she'd worn a dark red instead. He'd seen her a mile away while he'd been walking through the cemetery.
He liked the cemetery. It was the only place that he could get his own peace of mind in. He'd been there that day walking around and visiting his mother's grave.
Most people, he knew, would come to their parent's grave to mourn. They would come to pay homage and remember all the happy times they had had with the deceased. Most people would leave small trinkets on the grave to signify the person's birthday or so that the person would have something of theirs with them forever.
Andrew had never understood why people would be so naive to believe that the deceased cared that they were doing that, and he never understood why they thought that the deceased could still hear them.
They were dead. Goners. They were buried and off in their next lifetime getting into a new life while the people that were still here in this life weren't getting on with their own lives. Instead, the people in this life were still hanging onto the dearly departed.
Mortals, he cursed in annoyment.
When would they ever learn that death was not the end of everything? It was the beginning of another life. Instead of feeling sad that their friend, family, or lover died they should be happy that they could live again.
Stupid mortals, he cursed again as he walked by one that was whispering to a marble gravestone in the shape of a baby angel.
Then, as if to make his mood even worse, a funeral procession had interrupted his quiet time there. He'd watched them make their way to the recently departed's grave silently leaning against one of the trees.
Still, it had always interested him how other's dealt with death. Especially, how they dealt with the fact that once the body of their loved ones was buried in the cold, hard ground they would never get that person back. They would never get another moment with that person.
The gray sky had deformed all of the colors that gave the cemetery life. In its wake, the mourners following the coffin looked like living corpses following their leader.
She'd been the last to follow the crowd to the grave.
He'd seen her mother clearly belittling her for her choice of funeral garb by her harsh hand movements. The girl had looked away the whole time her mother had belittled her. The funeral was dragging on her energy. The girl's mothers bickering wasn't helping matters either.
She'd been so pale. As he'd watched her, he'd remembered the fairy tale of Snow White that his mother had used to tell him as a young, ignorant child.
The girl was just as pale as the driven snow, her golden blond hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail, and her blue-violet eyes had had a severe look to them. If anything she looked as if she had just been formed by the words in a fairy tale being brought to life. The long dark red dress that she'd worn to the funeral covered her from head to foot.
She'd looked like she had been dipped in blood.
She'd stood out like a sore thumb.
She was the most beautiful girl he'd ever saw in his life.
He didn't care about the consequences his actions would have on her. He called to her with his mind. He called her to him.
She'd shrugged off his first attempt, he remembered smiling to himself as he watched her lonely house and awaited her return home.
She hadn't succeeded resisting his second attempt. It had almost knocked her off her feet with the power he'd used to get her to come to him.
Her mother had yelled at her as she'd wobbled on her feet on crashed into her. Finally, her mother told her to go back to the car and wait for them.
She'd retreated, but not too far.
When she'd saw him she'd stopped.
Maybe, she had been afraid of him at the time. Maybe, she knew what the future held. Or maybe, his power had affected her more then he had planned on. But she'd wobbled again on her feet and grabbed onto a nearby tree for support.
He'd came to her quickly. Entering her world, and never willing to leave it.
"Are you alright, Miss?" he'd asked.
He didn't need her to answer. He already knew. He could see into her mind. She was still dizzy and fatigued by both his power controlling her mind as well as from her grief for the dead one in the coffin. Her younger brother, he realized. He'd died from being hit by a car.
Her name was Valerie Woods. She had a mother and father who resisted loving her and a little sister who ran all over town that her parents spoiled.
She lived on Sanderon Street and had woods in her backyard where she'd used to play and pretend she was an Amazon in. That was before she'd grown up. Now, she cared for her elderly grandmother because no one else in her family would.
He had found all of that out instantly when he'd taken her arm to assist her to the car. That and the fact that she was just as powerful as himself. And that whenever they interacted with each other their magic produced an instant reaction in the world around them.
He'd realized the last when he'd taken her arm to assist her to the car and the dying tree that she'd still been touching bloomed.
Calen: I would like you to know I still have a few tricks up my sleeve with Victoria. Of course, you will just have to keep reading to figure out what they are. Hopefully, once the story has concluded you will like how it all ends.
Willows2: I really did have a lot of fun with chapter 18. It was the first time I got to wake up Wyatt and not have him be comatose to whole the situation. Plus, I loved, loved, loved having all the characters interact with one another with each of their personalities diversities. Oh, and it's totally understandable that it took you awhile to get into the story. I mean really, it took this many chapters to get everyone in "agreement" over the whole Victoria situation let alone interact with one another like they do on the show.
Shortie: Thankies for the reviews. I hope you love it. I'm so happy to hear you're addicted to it. Tis a great ego booster. See you at work.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------
In their past life their names were:
Chris= William
Wyatt= Andrew
Prue= P. Bowen
Piper= P. Bexter
Phoebe= P. Russel
Victoria= Valerie
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------------
The smell of loblolly pine trees invaded Andrew's senses as he arrived at the tall red brick house. It was her house. Valerie's. The girl he was supposed to be withs home.
He'd known that they were supposed to be together since the moment that they'd met.
It had been a cold day in late October. She'd stood out of the crowd. Everyone had went to the funeral wearing black, but she'd worn a dark red instead. He'd seen her a mile away while he'd been walking through the cemetery.
He liked the cemetery. It was the only place that he could get his own peace of mind in. He'd been there that day walking around and visiting his mother's grave.
Most people, he knew, would come to their parent's grave to mourn. They would come to pay homage and remember all the happy times they had had with the deceased. Most people would leave small trinkets on the grave to signify the person's birthday or so that the person would have something of theirs with them forever.
Andrew had never understood why people would be so naive to believe that the deceased cared that they were doing that, and he never understood why they thought that the deceased could still hear them.
They were dead. Goners. They were buried and off in their next lifetime getting into a new life while the people that were still here in this life weren't getting on with their own lives. Instead, the people in this life were still hanging onto the dearly departed.
Mortals, he cursed in annoyment.
When would they ever learn that death was not the end of everything? It was the beginning of another life. Instead of feeling sad that their friend, family, or lover died they should be happy that they could live again.
Stupid mortals, he cursed again as he walked by one that was whispering to a marble gravestone in the shape of a baby angel.
Then, as if to make his mood even worse, a funeral procession had interrupted his quiet time there. He'd watched them make their way to the recently departed's grave silently leaning against one of the trees.
Still, it had always interested him how other's dealt with death. Especially, how they dealt with the fact that once the body of their loved ones was buried in the cold, hard ground they would never get that person back. They would never get another moment with that person.
The gray sky had deformed all of the colors that gave the cemetery life. In its wake, the mourners following the coffin looked like living corpses following their leader.
She'd been the last to follow the crowd to the grave.
He'd seen her mother clearly belittling her for her choice of funeral garb by her harsh hand movements. The girl had looked away the whole time her mother had belittled her. The funeral was dragging on her energy. The girl's mothers bickering wasn't helping matters either.
She'd been so pale. As he'd watched her, he'd remembered the fairy tale of Snow White that his mother had used to tell him as a young, ignorant child.
The girl was just as pale as the driven snow, her golden blond hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail, and her blue-violet eyes had had a severe look to them. If anything she looked as if she had just been formed by the words in a fairy tale being brought to life. The long dark red dress that she'd worn to the funeral covered her from head to foot.
She'd looked like she had been dipped in blood.
She'd stood out like a sore thumb.
She was the most beautiful girl he'd ever saw in his life.
He didn't care about the consequences his actions would have on her. He called to her with his mind. He called her to him.
She'd shrugged off his first attempt, he remembered smiling to himself as he watched her lonely house and awaited her return home.
She hadn't succeeded resisting his second attempt. It had almost knocked her off her feet with the power he'd used to get her to come to him.
Her mother had yelled at her as she'd wobbled on her feet on crashed into her. Finally, her mother told her to go back to the car and wait for them.
She'd retreated, but not too far.
When she'd saw him she'd stopped.
Maybe, she had been afraid of him at the time. Maybe, she knew what the future held. Or maybe, his power had affected her more then he had planned on. But she'd wobbled again on her feet and grabbed onto a nearby tree for support.
He'd came to her quickly. Entering her world, and never willing to leave it.
"Are you alright, Miss?" he'd asked.
He didn't need her to answer. He already knew. He could see into her mind. She was still dizzy and fatigued by both his power controlling her mind as well as from her grief for the dead one in the coffin. Her younger brother, he realized. He'd died from being hit by a car.
Her name was Valerie Woods. She had a mother and father who resisted loving her and a little sister who ran all over town that her parents spoiled.
She lived on Sanderon Street and had woods in her backyard where she'd used to play and pretend she was an Amazon in. That was before she'd grown up. Now, she cared for her elderly grandmother because no one else in her family would.
He had found all of that out instantly when he'd taken her arm to assist her to the car. That and the fact that she was just as powerful as himself. And that whenever they interacted with each other their magic produced an instant reaction in the world around them.
He'd realized the last when he'd taken her arm to assist her to the car and the dying tree that she'd still been touching bloomed.