Cursed or Unlucky
Disclaimer: I don't own Jimmy Neutron.
Story to Read: The Time Has Come (Foster's Home For Imaginary Friends) by azure-tears
Penance 11: Creepy
It was 10 pm at the Simmons residence where Sheen was in the basement moaning. Moaning with pleasure from the meth he had just taken. He had learned to make his own crystal meth and several other drugs. He had experimented to lessen and mostly remove the addictive side effects without killing the drug's main objective, which was to get you high.
Suddenly the basement door opened. Sheen was too strung out to move from the box he hid behind at the bottom of the stairs.
Soon he was looking into the eyes of the youngest of the household Libian.
"Hi," Libian said softly.
Sheen looked at the girl in her white nightgown as she stood before him. His eyes were half opened and could barely form words.
"W...W…Wha…you…" Sheen slurred.
"I know who you are," Libian said as she stroked his hair.
Sheen was hearing her but could barely process it through his strung out brain.
"And I know who Jim and Carolyn's father is," Libian whispered in his ear.
Sheen's eyes widened. His brain had processed that.
"What?" Sheen asked.
"My brother and sister are half cousins," Libian said in an amused tone.
"Li…" Sheen started.
"Just let me sit with you," Libian said and sat beside him.
This is no typical eight-year old. – Sheen
Libian took out a cigarette out of her pocket.
Sheen's eyes widened.
Libian then proceeded to dig into his clothes pocket. She eventually found a lighter and lit her cigarette.
"Don't worry," Libian said sweetly, "my mother had brains too," she told Sheen, "I know how to smoke without getting those pesky things like cancer," she said and giggled.
"How?" Sheen asked.
"I made a chemical," Libian said simply after leaning against him, "I wanted to be a typical kid so I hid my smarts," she explained.
"Oh," Sheen said.
"I also age twice my age mentally and hormonally until I'm twelve," Libian revealed to him, "so right now," she told him, "you're talking to someone sixteen," she said seriously.
"Sixteen?" Sheen asked still a bit out of it.
"Yeah," Libian said and stroked his hair, "I never told anyone before."
"Why me?" Sheen asked softly.
"We're both different," Libian said, "both have our own view of the world," she said with a smile.
"Carolyn doesn't mind that I kill," Sheen said suddenly, "you do know that I've killed right?" he asked.
"Did you really think I'd know about James and not you?" Libian asked sounding insulted, "Carolyn will betray you," she told him, "she's not going to agree to a life with a guy who kills people."
"I know," Sheen admitted surprising Libian, "but I can make an impression while I'm here," he added.
"So you know you're a passing fancy?" Libian asked him.
"With a ninety-percent chance, yeah," Sheen responded, "I'm not a genius," he admitted, "but I check things out," he said proudly.
"So you think Carolyn will find someone else?" Libian asked.
"You're only eight," Sheen told her.
"Can you wait six years?" Libian asked him, "I'll be fourteen then," she said flirtatiously.
"I'm not getting it on with an eight-year old," Sheen told her seriously.
Libian grabbed Sheen and pulled him near angrily contorted face.
"You listen to me," Libian snarled, "I'll be fourteen in six years and if you're not waiting I'll kill you or anyone who stands in my way got it?"
Sheen wondered if this girl had totally lost him.
You know what, I'll humour her. – Sheen.
"If you come can find me in six years," Sheen challenged, "you can have me," he told her.
"Don't humour me," Libian said darkly.
Sheen went silent.
"Fine," Libian said and got up, "die in your drugged up murdering existence," she said and left the basement.
Sheen continued to sit where he was sitting from the moment this freak show started.
What the fuck just happened? – Sheen.
The following day at school was costume day. Everyone dressed in costumes except for cheerleaders and jocks who thought it was dorky.
A teenage girl in a purple velvet outfit that ended barely past her bum drank at the water cooler. Her cascading hair fell in huge curls and the masquerade mask she had on was also purple.
"Who's that hot chick over there?" Jim asked as he chewed on a toothpick.
"Dude that's your sister," Douglas responded incredulously.
Jim immediately choked.
Libby sat at the park crying. Her first-born daughter hated her and it seemed that her marriage was headed for divorce.
How can things get any worse? – Libby
"Hello," a voice said suddenly.
Libby froze then turned around.
It was Forester.
Done
The next chapter will be six years from now. Gotten over the shock? Please read and review.