A New Painting

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. Not LOTR. Not California. Not a new red shiny mustang that I long to have. NOTHING. NADA.

A/N: this story can be mary-sueish. Don't like it-don't read it. Flames: no thanks I don't think my self-confidence can go any lower. Nicely telling me how I can improve as a writer is welcomed. Thank you all.

Chapter 1: Beware of the Unwanted Lips

When Ilsa woke up the sun was shinning brightly through the windows. She loved these mornings when the youngsters were not up. Cute as they were they always make a lot of noise throughout the adoption center from the moment they wake to the time they go to sleep. Before the bubble of peace was shattered Ilsa quickly got dressed into a knee-length skirt and tucked in a tee-shirt, bending to wake her best friend Laure up from sleep.

"Time to get on up you sleepy-head."

"Wwhatymeit? Whatever it is Ilsa, it can wait. I'm sleeping here."

"It's 7 am. Get up Laur if you want to beat the rush to breakfast. Besides I want to get to the paint store before 9. I'm running low again."

Ilsa was a master painter. She creates such real images on the canvas that they seem to move. Her eye for detail swept over her friend's face. Fatigue was written as plain as day across it clearly stating that she had not slept well the night before. Ilsa would often wake up to Laure meditating in the dark dormitory, unable to sleep.

With a little more urging Laure was finally persuaded to get dressed into blue jeans and a shirt. They hurried to the breakfast line wanting to get a good table outside to themselves. As they walked through the doors they passed Christina the Beanpole, as they liked to call her.

"Hey look who up so early. Are you trying to be the first in line for foster homes? Why anyone would want to waste their time with tweedle Dee and tweedle dumb is laughable," she said to her posse, "You will be the ones who no one wants. I mean I don't blame them or anything. I wouldn't take you trash if I had too."

"Why don't you just go throw up or something. Oh, wait that's not until after you ear," Laure shot back.

"Why you little-"

Before a fight could break out Ilsa pulled Laure outside, to the safety of the picnic tables. After they had reached their spots Laure shook back her long hair, hissing, "God I hate her. Why does she always have to be such a bitch?"

"Must be in her DNA or something. Lets forget about her and get going as fast as possible."

As they ate the sun bounced off their heads warming them from the chill. The two friends were as different as night and day in physical appearances. Ilsa had raven black hair and a natural light tan. Her best feature had to be her exotic deep cornflower blue eyes. Laure, on the other hand, had intense scarlet hair with emerald eyes and milky skin. She is Irish to the bone and proud of it.

Both girls were orphaned, unlike Ilsa who was left at birth, Larue's mother died 4 years ago leaving her in the care of WCO (We Care Orphanage) to find her a new home. Regrettably, all the families wanted little children, not teenagers.

Happy not to have to work at the gas 'n go the girls walked into town. The minute they left WCO Ilsa began to come out of her shell. This was a normal occurrence that happened all the time. She started to giggle gaining Laure's attention.

"I still can't believe how funny Jeremy looked when you dumped that chocolate shake all over his head," she laughed.

"Yeah, he had it all in his shirt. I mean, what else was a gal to do? Let him just keep kissing me? Luckily I think he got the hint."

"I don't think you're that lucky Laur," snickered Ilsa.

There turning the corner was none other then lover lips Jeremy coming his or her way.

"Ohnononononono! Quick in here!"

They slipped into a nearby bookstore hoping to evade Jeremy. To Laure's dismay and Ilsa humor he had caught sight of them trying to give him the slip and followed. Running through the aisles they concealed themselves in a nearby closest.

At this point Ilsa was crying she was laughing so hare. Laure was also finding it hard to be quiet.

"Shhh you nincompoop! I think he's heard us!"

But he walked on by with a crushed look on his face.

"HA! One point for the home team!" breathed Ilsa; "He wasn't expecting us to just disappear like that did he Laure… Laure? Hey what's wrong? Laure? What are you holding there?"

Laure had bent over to pick up a random book, which was glowing oddly.

"What is it?" murmured Ilsa.

"I have no idea. It's called the Lord of the Rings. Do you know why it is glowing?" asked Laure.

"The Lord of the Rings? Isn't that a movie with Orlando Bloom and that guy from the matrix?"

"I don't know. You're the one who saw the movie right?"

"Open it."

Laure, with Ilsa looking over her shoulder, unfolded the glimmering book. They were immediately engulfed in a simmering light.

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