AN: Top o' the early as hell to ya! (Though it's probably isn't late as hell where you are or anymore.) Well I warn that this chapter introduces a new character! Oh lovely ideas! Well anyway, hope you don't Think I HAVE ADD! (sorry stab at another person from another story!) So anyway, thanks!
That girl you love to love!
—Shesweet
She could not believe that today was her mother's funeral. It was a gloomy, sticky day. Her life sucked. It was awful.
Paige was interrupted rudely by Lianna knocking on her door.
"Um, Paige?"
"Yeah?"
"How are you?" Lianna's normally delicate, pale and creamy features were puffy, red and blotchy from crying. She was also hiccupping out of control.
"I'm fine, LiLi. You obviously aren't."
"Dad said it's time for us to put our clothes on."
"Kay." Paige said. Lianna left without another word.
"Paige." Lianna said after she was in her room. She said the syllables extra long like Pay-yage. "Turn on your TV."
Paige did so to find a reporter outside of their house. She knew she had the right station because every TV in the house was on their local news station which has memoriam's on Sunday mornings.
"These two children were basically orphaned because someone killed their mother. The two girls, Lianna Madline Mathews and Paige Camille Mathews, are high school aged. Their mother, Laura Baker-Mathews, memorial service is later on today. It's especially hard because Paige is adopted." The reporter said. Paige's eyes flamed. She was down stairs and in the doorway. She wasn't sure if she even ran down the steps. "She hasn't a clue who her real parents are and-"
"Don't talk about my family when you haven't a clue what you're talking about!" Paige said from the doorway of the house. The area around her eyes was red. "Don't label us. I am not adopted and if you know what's good for you, you'll leave the Mathews premises. Immediately." She looked at the porch in front of her. She saw a flower pot. It also didn't look like the reporter and her camera man were going anywhere. "Leave. Now. Or I'll…I'll…I'll throw that-that flower pot at you!" At that moment a flower pot flew from the porch railing and hit the Reporter in the head, knocking her to the ground. Her camera man dropped the camera and ran. Paige opened her mouth but all that came out was a whimper. She turned and walked into a wall. It turned out the wall was her father. She began to sob into his shirt.
"Daddy? What's going on?"
She heard him sigh. "I don't know, Brownie. But we better call someone."
"Am I adopted?" He sucked in a breath but didn't release it. She put her palms against his chest and pushed away. "What the hell?"
"Paige, language."
"No! Seriously, you kept this from me?"
"Well, we didn't think you'd have to be informed of that."
"Not informed of that, what the fuck is wrong with you people?"
"Paige?"
"No! No Paige. I can't believe you are acting like 'Oh, it's no big deal that my oldest daughter is adopted. She was just abandoned by her parents! Just shake it off.' Right?"
"I-"
"I mean, no wonder I'm a left out freak! I don't belong to you. What the hell is up with that?"
"Shortie, I-"
"Shut up! I'm sick at looking at your face." Paige turned and ran from him. He took off after her.
"Wait!"
She ran faster. True, she was wearing only a black pencil skirt and some shear white piece of lingerie with panty hose, but she was still younger a faster than her father. She ran and ran until she reached that lake. She looked around for the guy with the teeth. She sat for what seemed like hours. Then she decided she should go back. She ran up to the back door and walked in.
"Dad?" There was no answer. She knew that they had left her. She ran upstairs finished dressing and putting her make-up on-because her mother always said 'Even if it's a sad occasion that's no reason to let your self go'. When she finished she put on her hat fluffed bodyful curls, she found that she looked like a perfect southern belle in a black pencil skirt, a corset/bustier shirt, black pumps, and a big black hat with veil. She grabbed her purse, her keys and walked out.
She walked into the burial ground where the funeral was held. In the front row was Lianna, her 'Dad' and she was angered to find in the seat they had agreed Paige Cynthia. Their priest was in the middle of his speech when Paige walked up on the faux stage. He stopped talking to look at her.
"It will be only a minuet, Father."
"Yes Paige." He said. She walked over to the coffin.
"It's true isn't it Mom-or should I say Laura?" She was ether batty or she responded,
"Yes, it is quite true, Paige honey. And I'm still mom."
"No you're not!" Paige hissed in a whisper.
"Yes, I know you sort of shocked-"
"My ass!"
"Paige."
"Who is she?"
"Who is who?"
"My mother! My real mother."
"Oh,-Polly!-No, wrong- um-oh it's on the tip of my tongue-oh-um-" She clicked her tongue. "P-P-P-P-um-"
"Get on with it already!" Paige yelled. She had the feeling she had all eyes on her.
"Miss. Mathews I believe we should get on with my sermon-"
"Hush it, Priestie!" The crowd gasped.
"Halliwell! Patty Halliwell! She had three other daughters, Pretension-Prudence! Prudence, Piper and Phoebe!"
That made Paige feel worst. Why would she give only her up?
"Who's my father? Why'd they give me and only me up?"
"There were affairs that shouldn't have happened, that led to you. She said that it had to do with her religion which-"
"Paige, please-"
"Didn't I say be quite, White Collar?"
"What was the religion?"
"I can't say. She was a very nice woman. We talked every week at least. But after about six months she stopped."
"Did you meet her face to face? Do I look like her?"
"You do look a bit like her. Hair about the same color as yours, close to the same skin tone." Paige thought of the women in her dream. Her hands tightened around the side of the coffin.
"Tell me before I get off stage what her religion was."
"Wicca." Paige turned walked down to her seat asked politely for Cynthia to get her ass out of her seat.
AN: Hey, this is Shesweet! I'm totally not in right now, so leave a message and I will make sure I'll get back to you. Thanks! Buh-bye!
Beep!