Disclaimer-movie doesn't belong to me...blah blah blah...I own Krisha though. ( Props to my bud Shanna who gave me the name to use. Copywrites to Krisha's first name go to Shanna!)

Chapter one- Ahh…The joy of pastels

It was horrible!

It was disgusting!

It was just plain wrong!

'They expect me to live in this fugly little pastel town of sameness! What the hell is wrong with them!' Krishta Jones' thoughts screamed. She just couldn't believe it! She knew her foster parents didn't like her, but this! She sighed dejectedly as she looked at the sickeningly bright pink house before her. The style wasn't bad, except for the fact that EVERY HOUSE HAD THE SAME FRICKEN' STYLE! Not to mention the same perfectly manicured lawns and gardens! 'Oh dear god…gag me with a spoon…'

Only three things were different in Suburbia. One: All the people had a different species of dog. Two: Every house had it's own strange, though incredibly beautiful, topiary. And Three: The beautiful, spooky, broken down, old Victorian, mansion atop the gigantic hill full of tortuous dead trees that loomed over the ominous town of sameness. Krishta wouldn't have minded living in THAT house till she was nineteen...

Krishta sighed again and flipped her short choppy coal hair out of her face, her stormy gray eyes scanning the house over. She's bet anyone a million dollars pretty much everyone in Suburbia was blond...

Krishta was your average sixteen-year-old girl. She was of average height (5'5), a lil' chubby and slightly overweight (170). Soft, short, choppy, charcoal colored hair graced the top of her pale heart shaped head. Her stunning stormy gray eyes with flecks of dark blue and gold mixed in were heavily outlined with black eyeliner. Pale hands with long, slender fingers protruded out from under the sleeves of her black 'Nightmare Before Christmas' shirt. (I have one! Except the sleeves look like patches of different colored clothe stitched together, then the rest of the shirt is black, with a picture of Sally, thinking about Jack surrounded by purplish roses. It's a really kewl shirt, but it shrunk in the wash…TT) Large baggy pants filled with chains hung off her wide hips, her tummy slightly hanging over. Her small black 'Nightmare before Christmas' shoes with purple stitching peered out from underneath the baggy pants.

Ok. Maybe Krishta's not SO average, but I suppose no one truly is. Either way, she still stuck out like a sore thumb in Suburbia.

She licked her black lips nervously before stepping forward and ringing the doorbell of the Barbie Suite. She jumped back at the sound of quick footsteps approaching the white door. The door opened after a moment and a tall red headed woman in pink polka dotted green spandex capris, (the pant like things that go above your ankles by about two or three inches. I can't spell it right, sorry!), and a green tube top stared down at her.

"Now who might you be, Darlin'?" the woman asked in a wanna be sexy southern drawl. "The name's Krisha, DARLIN'." She mocked. "I'm looking fer a Ms. Trixie Boggs? I'm supposed ta be stayin' wit her." The woman raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Oh my, oh me. Why, little Ms. Trixie never mentioned anything to me about someone coming to stay with her!" Her ice-blue eyes lit up with an evil looking spark that gave Krisha the creeps. "Right….so am I at the right house?" 'Not that you can tell…stupid god dammed houses..' Krishta thought, extremely annoyed. "Oh yes, just one minute Darlin'. OH TRIXIE!" Krishta winced at the disturbing woman's high-pitched yell.

A moment later a tall, slender brunette appeared at the door. She raised her eyebrows in disbelief. "What the? Donna! How the hell did you get in here!" Krishta smirked, trying hard not to laugh. "Why, your front door was wide open Ms. Trixie! I just had to come investigate! For all I knew someone had broken in and ya'll were lyin' on the floor dead!" Trixie glared at redhead, now known to Krishta as Donna. "Donna Monroe! The only person breaking into my house is you! Now why don't you go on home, I'm waiting for someone!" Krishta rolled her eyes and cleared her throat. "Ahem, that would be me. Krishta Jones, nice to meet you Ms. Boggs." Trixie looked down at the pale youth and her eyes widened. "Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry Krishta! Please, come right in!" she shot a glare at Donna. "Go home, Donna!" ((LOL! GO HOME RODGER!)) Donna pouted but sauntered out of the house and down the walkway, trying to swing her hips sexily. Note the word TRYING.

After 30 minutes of living with Trixie, Krishta felt at home. The interior wasn't as bad as the exterior. In fact, she loved it! Trixie was almost like an older version of Krishta! The living room was painted a dark purple, posters, lighters, and pictures from concerts were plastered to the walls. Linkin Park, Marilyn Manson, The Used, Fall Out Boy, My chemical Romance, ICP, Breaking Benjamin, Warp Tour, Ozzfest, all the posters and banners made Krishta so insanely jealous she wanted to scream! There was a cushy black couch and chair set, along with 3 purple beanbags, a large plasma TV, a five disk stereo, and a china hutch filled with living dead dolls and two 3ft dolls of Chuckie and his bride. Oh yeah, Krishta loved Trixie already.

Ah yes, Trixie. You'd want to know about her I suppose? Trixie was a tall, twenty-one year old, virgin, brunette. ((Sad, but true.)) Trixie was the real daughter of Krishta's foster parents. So technically, she was Krishta's foster (step?) sister. Her hair was slightly curly and long. ((Reaching to about her shoulder blades)) She had beautiful green eyes framed by long dark lashes and a ton of eyeliner. She was thin, with hardly any bust, but a lot of hip, enough to make any man drool. Currently she was wearing tight black hip huggers with tons of tears and gashes, a studded belt, a dark green 'Green Day' American Idiot t-shirt, black vans, a million ((black, green and purple)) jelly bracelets, and dark red lipstick. Her hair was pulled into a low ponytail and covered with a black West Coast Choppers hat. Trixie had a deep love of rock, grunge, and metal. She also liked some pop and hip-hop. ((Mainly Kelly Clarkson, Pink, Alicia Keys, Ciera, Missy Elliot, Gwen Stefani, Usher, and Bowling for Soup. Sorry for any misspellings, I'm not good with names. Actually I'm just a bad speller. TT ))

Trixie was really the whole reason Mr. and Mrs. Boggs had adopted Krishta. You see, they were some of the happy peppy losers that actually loved the pastel nightmare. They were incredibly embarrassed by their punky, back talking, opinionated daughter, Trixie had explained to Krishta. So when Trixie moved out ((which was only a few weeks ago)) they pretty much mail ordered a foster kid to live with them. Krishta was everything they didn't want. As a result, they sent her to live with Trixie till she was 18 or 19. ((Whichever one)) Trixie agreed, feeling that Krishta would prefer to live with her instead of her god-awful parents.

So here Krishta was, having driven all the way around the hill from sunshine city to the smaller town of Suburbia. The only difference between the two places was that they were on opposite sides of the massive hill and that Sunshine city was larger than Suburbia. The same ugly houses, the same ugly people.

Edward stared out through the hole in his attic and at the little pastel town below. He had just finished rereading his father's book of Edgar Allan Poe's greatest poems. One poem in particular stuck in his mind, Poe's 'A Dream'. He closed his eyes and recited the poem out loud, just to hear a voice, even if it was his own.

A dream

"In visions of the dark night

I have dreamed of joy departed-

But a waking dream of life and light

Hath left me broken-hearted."

Edward took a shaky breath, remembering his beloved Kim. He continued on after a moments pause.

"Ah! What is not a dream by day

To him whose eyes are cast

On things around him with a ray

Turned back upon the past?"

"That holy dream- that holy dream,

While all the world were chiding,

Hath cheered me as a lovely beam

A lonely spirit guiding."

"What though that light, thro' storm and night,

So trembled from afar-

What could there be more purely bright

In Truth's daystar?"

Edward finished reciting the poem, wondering again at how long it had been since the day he was run out of Suburbia, where his sweet Kim was, and why Kim had never come to visit. Small, dry sobs racked his body, all his tears having been released over the years. 'All because I'm not finished. I wish that I had been able to meet Peg's doctor friend. Everyone kept saying that he might have been able to help me. I hate these hands, these ugly scissors. They make me a monster. Them, and the scars covering my face.' Edward thought miserably. 'All because of these hands…'

END