A NEW story! Please review! I'd really appreciate it.
I might be abandoning Frozen Snowflakes for some time to focus more on this story. But don't worry, I WILL get back to it, eventually…
I struggled to get my shopping bags across the street. Sweating profusely and unattractive as ever, I let out a cuss word when a shiny black Porsche zoomed past, barely inches from running over my toes. It screeched to a halt some meters further. The owner stuck his skinny, geek-sized head out of the window, and grinned at me. A grotesque pair of sunglasses in the shape of a crab was stuck on top of his head.
"Looking great, girl! Wanna get together sometime?" He smirked at me, displaying a mouthful of cracked, yellowing teeth.
I grimaced with revulsion. I mean, ugh. What kind of a girl goes for a guy who doesn't even understand the basics of dental care? And what would happen when the two kissed? I shuddered, repulsed. As if I'd ever consider having a relationship with some geek giving out come-hither lines to various girls. I mean, major eww, anyone?
"Get a life. Shove off!" And go screw yourself. I muttered under my breath.
The skinhead looked shocked, then stuck out his middle finger skyward before driving off.
Hi. I'm Susannah Simon, but just call me Suze. And that was just another day in the life of ugly, pathetic me. I mean, why do I always attract the wrong types? Not that I'd done much seducing back in New York. I'd been rather unpopular, in fact, due to what my mother termed "temporary insanity". I often 'spoke to myself', and got into all kinds of peculiar scrapes. But it really isn't my fault.
You see, I can see ghosts, speak to them, and even touch them. Cool, huh? You'd think. The thing is, I get beaten up quite a bit, due to whatever violent ghosts I encounter. And yes, I'm pretty experienced at using my fist when it's needed, too.
What? Come on, a girl needs to defend herself. It's not my fault if some people go all crazy and angry because they're dead, right?
Anyway, basically my mum remarried, and I got threenew step-brothers in the deal, too. We just moved from New York City to California several weeks ago, and my mum practically forced me out of the house this morning to shop for new clothes. Huh. She thinks I need to get a new wardrobe, make a fresh start… Like that's gonna happen. I like myself just the way I am, thank you very much.
I finally managed to cross the skinny stretch of road and swung the small gate open, walking up the rough gravel path towards the door. The door opened easily and I hollered, "Mum! I'm home!"
My mum strolled out of the HUGE kitchen, wiping her hands on the weird hearts-on-blue-checkers apron she had taken to wearing lately. She had this huge grin plastered on her face, which had been there for, oh, just the past couple of months.
One of the reasons I took the moving house thing so well was because my mum just seemed so… HAPPY. I mean, really. She's been all chirpy and everything ever since she and Adam—that's my step-dad—got engaged. Not that it isn't irritating. In fact, it is most of the time. But all children want the best for their mother, right?
Right. I'm great, huh?
"Susie…? Are you listening?" My mum had an eyebrow raised and was looking at me questioningly. Only she can get away with calling me that. I HATE that name.
"Yeah? Sorry, I was just thinking."
"Well, as I was saying, Maria—you remember how I told you about my best friend in college?—invited me to go over for a small reunion party, just the two of us. So I was wondering if you wanted to come."
"Uhh. Actually, I'm going to be kind of—" I took one look at the expression on her face and amended my answer. "Sure, mum!"
I escaped up the stairs, entered my room and plonked the bags onto the floor. I glanced around. No sign of Jesse.
Oh… I must have forgotten to mention him. See, the very first day we moved in I stepped into my room and lo and behold, there he was—a ghost one and a half centuries old, hot as anything. He can be frustrating as hell one moment, nice the next. But the fact that he lives in my bedroom is kind of a problem. Now I have to use the bathroom every time I change, and its loads more troub—whatEVER! It isn't my problem if that makes me lazy in your eyes. I mean, still.
And did I mention he's hot?
I sighed. Obsessing over a ghost? I must be really DEPRIVED or something. I grabbed a soft pillow and perched myself on the window seat.
Yeah, you heard correctly, my window seat. That's one of the greatest things about this house, and my room. Like, the window seat is really cool. And this house? It's gorgeous, really.
The walls outside are whitewashed, and there's a verandah out front. The house is surrounded by a lawn with perfectly cut soft grass, and daisies, chrysanthemums and a whole bunch of other flowers I don't know the names of adorn it, adding an eye-catching spray of colour. The house is made up of two levels; on the first, there's the living room, dining room, kitchen, one bathroom and a sort of study-turned-bedroom, which is where Sleepy sleeps. A highly polished, hand carved chestnut banister winds its way up alongside the stairs leading up to the second floor. On this level, there're 4 bedrooms and a couple of bathrooms.
And that's another fabulous thing about this place! My room has its very own bathroom. I've been clamoring for my own lavatory for only the past six years. And now my wish finally came true. Yeah, this moving house thing might just work out.
"HURRY UP!" My second step-brother Dopey—I mean, Brad—yelled up at me.
Yeah yeah. Whatever. Can you imagine that? My new step-brother starts screaming at me just a few days after we get acquainted. So much for small favors.
I slipped into a fitting black tee and a pair of jeans, then checked my reflection in the full-length mirror before running downstairs. I pulled on a pair of strappy black sandals and aimed a kick at Dopey when my mum and Andy weren't looking. Hah. Gotcha.
He yelped and hopped awkwardly a few times, then tried to retaliate. I sidestepped his lunge easily and stuck out my tongue. Then I skipped to the front of my mum, where he'd be unable to do anything to me. The five of us piled into the Jeep, and backed out of the driveway and took off down the road. Sleepy wasn't going as he had to work his night shift at the pizza place. He wants to save enough for a silver Nissan Sentra. That'll be the day.
We spent the next half an hour bumping along the little road towards Maria's house. I alternately fiddled with my hair, clicked my nails together and looked bored while staring out of the window. I was engaging in the last activity when the landscape caught my eye.
We had been driving past drab-looking marshlands for ten minutes, but all of sudden, everything just brightened up. That's the only word to describe it. Everything went from murky brown and seasick green to a fascinating swirl of colours from all around, combining to form a spectacular view. Trees with leaves of all shapes and sizes seemed to sprout out around us, and bright-colored flowers ranging from violets to roses to sunflowers sprang from the ground.
It soon became obvious that we had entered Maria and her family's territory. Only I never imagined that what Mum described as Maria's "enthusiasm for planting" was that serious. But then, it was certainly a good change from the dreary background of the shadowy marshlands.
We knocked on the door once and were let in by Maria. She was slightly plump and had rosy cheeks and intelligent eyes that were filled with warmth. She greeted us with a grin and beckoned us to sit at the dining table.
The house was warm and cosy; color had been added in the form of quaint, over-stuffed furniture with prints and plaids, and attractive watercolors adorned the fawn-colored walls.
Maria went into the kitchen and came out bearing a large plate of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. I mentally licked my lips. Yummy.
"Help yourself!" Maria sat herself down and exclaimed, "Susannah. How much you've grown! The last time I saw you, you were but a small child."
Shaking her head and smiling, she bit into a cookie, and upon hearing the crunch, I could not stop myself from reaching out for one. We spent the next hour talking about Andy, how life had been and, you know… stuff. It felt rather awkward at first, but what with Maria's warm demeanor and the delicious aroma of food cooking wafting from behind the kitchen door, all of us warmed to each other pretty quickly, and we were soon chatting like old friends.
Food was set on the oaken table, and we all dug in hungrily. Roast meat, juicy sausages, fried eggs and lettuce, tomatoes, fried chicken and a generous layer of mayonnaise on grilled burger slices all disappeared in record time. The dessert of home-made cookies and cream ice cream and warm brownies filled with melted chocolate vanished even faster. I rubbed my tummy contentedly.
Later, Maria led my mum and Andy around the house, while the rest of us lounged around the house. I got permission and scampered up the stairs to explore the rest of the house. The floor was flat panels of pine wood, and the walls upstairs had been plastered with brilliant red wallpaper. Man. Okay, big mistake here. What kind of a person actually wants blood-red walls in their house?
I poked my head beyond the first doorway I encountered, took in the messy jumble of items piled on top of one another, concluded that that was the storeroom, and proceeded on.
The next room harbored a single bed with a white-papered, yellow-light bedside lamp on the small dresser beside it. A cupboard was shoved into a corner. This room I entered, keen to look around more.
I had my hand on the smooth, cool surface of the cupboard and was about to open its door when I realized I was probably intruding. Then again, maybe not. I mean, I'd already played the good girl and got Maria's acquiescence before I came up, right?
The cupboard door swung open under my pull, and…
I gaped. My jaw dropped open and my shoulders sagged, as my widened eyes took in the sight before me. For in the cupboard was several bowls of animal—or human?—blood, a whole stack of red and black candles piled on top of one another and a strange and outlandish symbol that somehow made me think of the devil. The tools of Brazilian Voodoo. Someone had been exorcised here. Or was about to become so.
I was silent for the entire ride home, deep in contemplation.