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Catnap 🌙💜🐱
Smilling Critters, draw by me! (I'm author) 🌙💜🐱
First chapter of my book
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.Beep. Beep. SLAM!
Alice Veroux slammed her fist down on her alarm. She glared at the clock.
5:15. She groaned.
"Why does morning come so soon!?!?!?"
She put her pillow over her face and exhaled. Its the first day of school. Breathe in. Breathe out. Repeat. She grabbed her school uniform and towel off her dresser and went to the bathroom.
She breathed in the familiar smell of her vanilla and rose soap. I don't want to go. I want to crawl back to bed. Maybe have a blueberry Poptart and watch some anime. She turned off the water and dried off. Her long lavender hair fell like waterfalls of satin behind her back, curling at the ends flirtatiously. Her uniform fit loosely around her petite body. She frowned as she looked down at her chest. This uniform definitely isn't flattering. She gazed in the mirror and sighed at the pale reflection. She pinned her hair up in two panda buns like Sailor Moon. She put on purple eye shadow, winged eyeliner, mascara, blush, and pink lip gloss.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
"Get out of the bathroom I need to finish getting ready for work!" Anthony pounded harder on the door.
"Okay!" Alice pulled up her white knee high socks and then slipped into her blue and white shoes. She checked the time.
6:15. Shit. No time for breakfast.
She opened the door after grabbing her crescent moon shaped backpack and wand. "Give me $10." She reached for his wallet in his pocket.
Anthony grabbed his wallet before she could steal it. "What? Why?" He held it above her reach.
"No time for breakfast." She flicked her wand and $10 came out of the wallet into Alice's hand. "Thanks." She muttered sarcastically.
Anthony rolled his eyes. She heard him yelling your welcome as she slammed the door.
She glanced down at her clock. 6:20. I'm going to have to run. She glanced down at her backpack that had 3 textbooks. This is going to be fun. She sighed and started running. Alice got to the train station and looked at her clock. 6:28. Two minutes early. Alice exhaled sharply trying to catch her breath.
"Need this?" A dark husky voice was low in her ear. Followed by the scent of mint and cologne.
Alice tensed up and looked up. An 18 year old boy looked at her smiling holding a water bottle. Alice's aqua blue eyes darkened into a stormy blue gray and she glared at him.
The boy was caught in her glare, like a bug trapped in a spiders web. It's as if she's staring into my very soul, condemning me to a hellish death of fire and misery.
"No". Alice backhanded the bottle.
He watched, as if in slow motion, as the bottle hit the tracks below being hit by the nearby train. He looked up only to see the ends of her hair waving goodbye in the wind as she entered her train.
Pfft. What a creep. Alice sat in a vacant seat. She pulled out her iphone and headphones and listened to music. She sighed blissfully as she stared out the window, her favorite part of the day had always been the train rides to and from school.
Her stop came up and she got off. She was surprised by the size of the college. It looked like it never ended. Alice's brother had taken her stuff the night before insisting her to stay for breakfast. So much for that. Her stomach growled and she looked at the school map for the cafe.
She found it with ease and ordered a vanilla bean Frappuccino with coconut milk and a blueberry bagel. Her first class started at 8:05 so she had 30 minutes to kill.
She walked around until she found her class, healing magic. All she had to do now was wait.
Lorax Rewrite Excerpt
Without focusing on Ted, the story can start earlier and show more of Once-ler's background trying to sell his Thneed. What bad influences did he have when it came to running a business? Some of the advice in this chapter are real things I've been told...
Excerpt below:
He pulled the Thneed from his neck, and spread it on the table. "Ah, you know what, let me just show you."
"It's brilliant," said the main representative immediately.
He was the shortest man and wore a sleek white suit. "The audacity is stunning. It's the perfect balance between essential and useless. Whimsical enough to capture the imagination, yet quaint enough to be marketed as a necessity. This is, indeed, something everyone needs. We would just have to make it out of a better material. For the most part, there's not a single thing that could be improved. However…" He looked up from his spinny chair at the long table. "There's one problem."
His colleagues in smaller chairs around him nodded their heads knowingly.
"Whaddya mean?" asked Once-ler.
The salesman pressed his fingers together and leaned forward. "To sell a product, you need to have a certain degree of charisma," he explained. "The creator's image is even more important than the thing itself when it comes to commerce. That is, you can't just come into a company in your dirty lumberjack clothes, dragging a mule, singing out of tune, and expect to be a success."
Once-ler turned red. There were no barns in North Nitch, so he'd been taking Melvin everywhere with him on a leash. The buildings were so big it hadn't occurred to him there was anything wrong with it. Plus Melvin was such a well-behaved mule, or maybe it was just that he hadn't had any human friends in so long, Once-ler had unconsciously started to think of him as a person.
He also resented his spiffy new outfit being called dirty lumberjack clothes. The fashion of his old town must've looked that way to outsiders no matter how new or clean they were. He observed the stiff, sleek blazers the businessmen wore and took note.
"There seem to be two of you here right now, Mr. Ler," the salesman said, and Once-ler got the feeling he wasn't talking about the fact that he'd brought his mule.
"On one hand, I see a powerful inventor with an ingenious work ethic, capable of bringing impressive ideas to life. But you can’t let humility hold you back. My advice to you is to try and think of yourself a little more selfishly, if you know what I mean."
"No, sir… Could you expand on that?"
"I mean stop thinking of yourself as someone small from a lowly background. You have to imagine yourself as bigger than everyone else."
The salesman hopped from his chair and drew his own short body to its full height in front of the towering woodsman.
"It doesn't matter if you're the tallest person in the world, if you never think you can reach anything." The businessman threw a pointed glance at a geeky young intern with glasses and braces. "Isn't that right, Aloysius?"
"I get it, Dad." The teenager rolled his eyes.
The salesman folded up the Thneed, and handed it back to Once-ler. "You have potential, but come back when your marketing strategy has improved. Have you ever read The Virtue of Selfishness? I look forward to hearing back from you. In the meantime, have you considered applying to other job options at one of the O'Hare companies?" He handed Once-ler a pamphlet.
Once-ler walked out of the building buzzing with embarrassment. He'd butchered his delivery on his first try. Why was it so easy to sing about Thneeds at his family's farm, in the forest, or the privacy of his wagon? He hadn't expected to start shaking like a leaf the instant he started playing for other people. He needed to practice.
Full story here:
44/100 days of productivity: So in the beginning of this school year I made those notes in many chapters. Now I found their usefulness. Also I have stomach ache but this won't stop me to work even if I'm better in my bed.
42/100 days of productivity: Today I started my revisions weeks. I revised 17 chapters. I can tell you that I'm now totally exhausted ! However I took numerous break, I even went for a walk because I couldn't stay concentrate. Anyway I am really proud ! Also I have that new mug which is so cool (even if it's with male pronoun) and I guess I will take weight during those 2 weeks because I drink and eat so much ! (I bought could snacks to stay motivated)
30/100 days of productivity: Bullet journal pages about engineering schools entrance examination
Enjoy this chapter i wrote if you enjoy it I'll write the second chapter.
THE AETHERIUM REALM
Chapter 1
A young Cloelf was setting up her stall on the outskirts of her village, the tall trees towering over her small frame, their looming shadows casting a soft pink glow from their leaves. Sivandor was the Cloelf's name, a small, pale, green figure barely noticeable if it wasn't for the oversized bow on her back. The mop of tight curls on her head reflected the light off, as her eye scanned the area for anything out of the ordinary in her usual spot.
"Ugh..." she groaned. "Why can't I explore? The large island has so much to offer; so much of it remains untouched! I could be the first to see what's beyond!" she continued, as she put up items she was going to trade for shiner goods.
Sivandor waited patiently for something to happen and it came within a few minutes, as a tall, ash like with glowing blue circular markings on her body, her long legs moving towards Sivandor with fiery speed. Her coal like eyes making eye contact with Sivandor.
"Hello miss, I'm Luthien, a Pyroeenchress. What do you have to offer?" she asks in a casual tone as if they were friends for years. "Oh well, I've charms! Is there anything you're looking for?" Sivandor replies, curiosity floating in her words.
"Yes, there is! I'm looking for something to replace my bag where I store my books. It's... kind of..." She trails off. "Falling apart?" Sivandor finishes the Pyroeenchress's sentence. "Yes, do you think you have anything similar to it?" They continue to talk. "Sure, let me see what your bag is."Luthien raises her bag on the stall, ash staining the leather, dull patterns on it, and with many holes in it, clearly being burnt. "Oh wow... What have you put this bag through? Was it war?" Sivandor asks jokingly while looking through a box of neatly folded bags from her trades,"
"You know, to answer that comment you had about what happened to my bag, it was passed down from my great-granddad, and he passed it down to my dad and then to me, so that's how I got it!" "If you don't mind me asking, what exactly do you store in it?" the Cloelf asks, her large red eye full of wonder.
"Well when I got it, about when I was twelve? I always went out to find caved libraries when you're in my homeland you'll realize just how common they are, but anyway they were old abandoned found on the sides of volcanoes so you can guess what condition they were in. I'd go in and see what books were still intact, a surprising amount I might add, that's why the bag had ash stains on it..." Luthien stands proud of her family's history.
There's a moment of silence between them "I was not expecting that, that's quite the history that bags got," Sivandor breaks the silence with that and this was just the start of a friendship, they continue talk slowly acting like old friends, despite only knowing each other for a short amount of time, Sivandor suddenly realizes as she says, "I've completely forgotten to tell you my name! I'm Sivandor; sorry, that's rude of me!" she says, hiding her embarrassment under a laugh, while Luthien laughs before she can suppress it. "It's alright!" she says between laughs. After finally calming down, she asks, "Hey, I know we've not long known each other, but I already like you as a friend. I'm visiting my friend, who's a Thorpe, you know, those high-class guys. But anyway, what do you say? "You want to come with me to meet him?" Luthien politely asks, with a hint of uncertainty lacing her voice. "Yes!" Sivandor replies excitedly. "I need any excuse to leave my village! I need to get my best outfit on!"
Sivandor packs up her stuff, storing them in a small cafe that's been changed to store a lot of things. They walk to Sivandor's village, which is located on a massive, cherry blossom-like tree with large twisting branches and vines all over.
"Oh my..." Luthien quietly speaks. "So your entire village lives in that tree?" "Yep!" Sivandor answers proudly. "Come on! I'll take you to my home!" she runs off; her short legs make a beating sound on the ground. Luthien follows her up the long path along the dark bark of the tree, passing other houses, all looking completely different from each other: some small, big, wide, and towering. Nothing was out of the question. Up at the top was where Sivandor's place of home was.
As the new friends enter the round house, with hand made paintings adorning the walls, Sivandor enters her room leaving Luthien alone for a few minutes. In this time, she takes a look around the room, admiring how much character the room has, not a spot was left without making it feel full. Sivandor finally comes out in a completely different outfit that's much better than her traditional Cloelf clothes. "You ready?" Luthien asks, anticipation loud and clear in her words. With that, they start their journey to Luthien's friend's home or wherever he might be.
sv140
"Where to begin?
- that was the question, at what point to make the first mark? One line placed on the canvas committed her to innumerable risks, to frequent and irrevocable decisions. All that in idea seemed simple became in practice immediately complex; as the waves shape themselves symmetrically from the cliff top, but to the swimmer among them are divided by steep gulfs, and foaming crests. Still the risk must be run; the mark made."
From "To the Lighthouse" by Virginia Woolf
No sé,pero leer esto escuchando Family Jewels de Marina no fue buena idea :,,D*llora*
I don't know, but reading this while listening to Marina's Family Jewels was not a good idea :,,D*cries*
CHAPTER 34: Pancakes and the Puppy
WELCOME BACK! Here is our first returning chapter, and boy did we set off nice and intense ya’ll. We worked so hard on this and are so pleased to bring you something fresh and improved to this blog. We hope you enjoy it, and hope you continue to stick around for the new chapters to come.
(Sorry for the long post btw. Unfortunately we can’t add multiple ‘Keep reading’s, else we would 😅 )
Thanks for being so patient all these years!
Storyboarding/drawings, flats, effects & writing- @wiggybe
Lineart, shading/lighting & writing- @self-made-madman
———————————————————————————————————–
Once-ler: *The next morning, Oncie decides to cheer the Warden up with a surprise breakfast activity. Pancake making! He loved it the first time, and he’s been some time since they had a chance to do it again, so maybe a bit of relationship baking will put him in a good mood and remind him how much the Once-ler loves to be with him. He walks into the Superjail kitchen with the Warden following behind him. The cooks have been informed about the Once-ler’s and Warden’s arrival and so are cleaning up their stations. After gesturing for them to hurry up and screw off, he looks into some cupboards and takes out a bowl and ingredients* Righty~ *Smiles at the Warden*
Warden: *Looks like an excited child, biting his lip and bouncing on his heels. He’s had a great day so far, even if he is a little uncomfortable at their dancing around the use of the word ‘love’ earlier.* Great! What do I get to do? *Makes grabby hands for a bowl. He’s done this on his own before-he feels confident that he can do it now.*
Once-ler: Well, do you want to make some together or do you wanna try on your own again?~ *Hands him the bowl and takes another one out.*
Warden: *Blows air through his lips* Pfft. 'Try’? I already did it once! *Takes the bowl gleefully* But just so long as we get to eat them at the end we can do it however you want~ *Prances over to one corner and takes an apron, then prances back, much like he did before going on his date with Hunter.*
Once-ler: Alright. Tell you what- why don’t we have a little race?~ First one to make 5 pancakes each wins? *Grabs an apron himself and puts it on*.
Warden: *Scoffs* No fair! You’ll totally win. *The apron ties itself around him as he returns to the stove.* But fine~ Consider it on!
Once-ler: Awesome!~ *Goes up to his own stove and grabs his bowl* Ready? GO! *Starts pouring ingredients into the bowl and mixing it into a batter. It’s obvious that he’s an expert at this. His whisking is fast and nothing is spilling over the edge. But he never stated any rules.*
Seguir leyendo
Considering Meiste is being written from a 1st person limited point of view (that POV being Izi’s exclusively) I think it would make more sense if it felt like he were naming the chapters, himself.
I.e. Chapter 1: That was Where it All Started
(Henceforth, I’ll use X to denote a digit of unknown value)
Chapter XX: Ruining my Own Coronation
Chapter XX: Odapir City is a Crazy Place
Chapter XX: The Big Lie, Revealed
Chapter XX: Look Who Came Crawling Back for More
Let’s go back to naming our chapters!
Here are some examples of chapters names I’ve come up with!
- Break you out of your shell
- A plot to make the girl happy again
- Yesterday is a memory we can't all forget
- Regret is something we get over by doing
Lets hear some more unique chapter names!
Ooof Am I too late for rebloging this?
This shit looks gay as hell
Chapter Two: Cool Blue
Sam Smith’s ‘The Lonely Hour’ album flowed gently into the bathroom. My freshly washed hair was wrapped in a towel atop my head as I soaked in a bath full of warm bubbly water, relishing the rare state of tranquility that I was currently experiencing.
I’d slept well the night before and had awoken feeling refreshed and relaxed. I’d quickly noticed how quiet it was around here. It was strange to not wake up to the sound of horns blaring and people shouting down on the street. It almost felt abnormal.
Wrapped in another fluffy towel, I double-checked the bedroom door was locked before rubbing lotion into my skin, pulling on some underwear and letting my hair down. I grabbed my hair serum off the dresser and ran a little of it throughout my hair, deciding to leave it in its naturally curly state as opposed to spending the next hour battling with it.
Paris hammered on the door at around 11am, just as I finished painting my fingernails a glossy black. After managing to open the door for her without smudging, she burst in, completely messing up my calm with all her energy.
“Hey,” She beamed, her bright eyes admiring my long black nails, “Glad you’re up already. I’m gonna head to the mall, wanna come?”
I actually didn’t. I would have preferred to stay in and just relax. I had a bunch of things in my Netflix queue that I wanted to get through and I wasn’t all caught up on Scandal yet. I was about to say no, but then I remembered that I was trying to become a new, more outgoing, person and decided to say yes instead.
“Yeah, sure,” I shrugged, “Give me a second.”
I scooted into the bathroom quickly, where I filled the sink with cold water and soaked my hands in them for a minute or two to dry the nail lacquer.
Paris was seated on my bed as I re-entered the room, poking through my belongings that were sat on the bedside table.
“So what time are we leaving?” I asked, startling her. I could tell from the expression on her face that she felt guilty about getting caught nosing through my stuff.
“In about an hour, I guess. Breakfast is downstairs so we can get some food then go.” She replied.
I nodded as I inspected my nails. I’d painted them pitch black so many times that I was now a pro. No smudges, no streaks, no black paint on my skin. 10/10.
“Hey, do you mind if my friend comes with us?”
I shook my head noiselessly with my attention still on my fingers.
“Great, I’m excited, I can’t wait for you to meet her! She’s been my best friend since we were in kindergarten,” Paris explained. “I think you’ll like her. Me and her are just alike. We always get asked if we’re related.” She giggled. “She’s had this crush on one of my brothers friends for years and I like his brother who’s friends with Jason too, so we always say that if we marry ‘em then we will really be related.”
I offered a smile in response.
“Don’t say anything in front of Jason, though. He’d get mad if he knew I still had a crush on his friend.”
“Why would he get mad?”
“I don’t know, he’s just funny about that kind of thing,” she responded nonchalantly.
I frowned slightly, wondering why it’d be a problem for his little sister to have a harmless crush on one of his friends. I could understand him not being in favor of her and a friend of his to start dating, but a crush was nothing. Maybe he was just overprotective, I concluded.
I shrugged along with Paris.
“I bet you got a boyfriend in New York, huh, Erin?” She enquired with sudden eagerness in her voice.
“No, I don’t,” I responded meekly.
“Why not? You’re pretty.”
I paused as I began lining my eyes with favorite liquid liner, “I don’t know,” I picked my mascara up out of my makeup bag and started coating my lashes with it. I could feel Paris’ eyes on me and hoped she wouldn’t push the subject further.
“You aint gotta wear any foundation or concealer or nothing like that your face, huh?” She asked, leaving my love life alone.
“Nuh-uh.”
“Lucky.” She breathed.
I felt a twinge of guilt. I could tell that Paris really wanted me to talk with her about boys and makeup and all that kind of thing, but I wasn’t very good at it. That stuff just wasn’t me. I figured if she had survived nineteen years in the house with no female around her age to talk about this with, then it wouldn’t kill her that I was no good at girlie-girl stuff.
Half a minute of silence seemed to be too much for Paris to bear so more words on a completely different subject were now tumbling out of her mouth.[
“Are you gonna buy anything at the mall?”
“Yeah, I think I wanna get a new phone.”
“You know which one you want?”
“Yeah, the new iPhone, I think.” I had put my makeup away and was now shutting off the iPod dock.
“You should get a Blackberry like me, then we can add each other on BBM.” Paris chirped. “Most of my friends have BBM too so when you meet them and become friends with them you can add them on BBM too.”
“Yeah.” I was fixing my hair in the mirror; it was finally completely dry. I bent forward and scrunched it up in my palms then sprayed some hair spray.
Paris continued telling me all the pros about getting a Blackberry as I threw on my Chucks, grabbed my Ray Ban’s and credit card then headed down to breakfast with her trailing close behind me.
***
Music blasted out from the speakers of Paris’ car as we rode to pick up her friend. The midday sun was beating down on the vehicle, the breeze from the open windows being the only relief in the stifling heat.
Paris gasped as we drove along a street almost identical to the one she lived on. I noticed that all the streets looked pretty much the same. There was no deciphering which was which to me as of yet.
“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!” She squealed.
“What?” I asked panicking and squinting into the distance trying to see what she was hyperventilating over. “WHAT?!”
She slowed as we approached a shiny black Range Rover. A guy was hopping out of it as we approached.
“Hey, Callum!” She called.
The boy turned his head, most of his face obscured from view by the black snapback that sat low on his face, and nodded in response to Paris.
“Oh my God!” Paris repeated once we were a little way away from the boy she’d almost crapped herself over. I frowned and said nothing; I was annoyed that she had acted a fool all because of a guy. She’d almost given me a heart attack making me think that something was actually wrong. “That’s the dude my friend likes, the one I was telling you ‘bout earlier.”
I nodded. I barely caught a glimpse of him, so I was unable to tell whether he was hyperventilation worthy or not. Most likely not.
Paris giggled and pulled up to the curb outside a house that she informed me her ‘bestie’ lived in.
Seconds later, a girl with deep red hair came out of the house and bounced down to the car. I screwed up my face in confusion as I remembered that Paris had said that people asked if the two of them were related; these girls didn’t look anything alike.
“Lauren!” Paris shrieked in excitement as the girl got in the backseat. “Oh my God girl, you look so cute, our skirts are matching!”
It seemed as though denim miniskirts were all the rage in Richmond. I made a mental note of that.
Lauren hopped in the car and offered me a smile as a greeting.
“Guess who we passed on our way to pick you up?” A smile grew on Paris’ face.
“Who?” Lauren asked keenly.
“Callum.” Paris said and Lauren shrieked and started freaking out in the backseat. “I was like Hey Callum.”
“What did he say?” Lauren asked so consumed with excitement that she could hardly get the question out. “Where was this?”
“This was like right outside his house; he was getting into his car. He was by himself though, no Daniel.”
I zoned out as the two of them went over the tiny little mind-numbing details about the two seconds Paris and I saw Callum for.
***
I followed Paris and Lauren around Forever 21, glancing at the clothes, occasionally picking something up and feigning interest. I began to feel like I should have stayed at the house.
It always amazed me how some people could talk and talk and talk. I’d always been someone of few words, most just containing a singular syllable, but those people with all the charm and charisma that could talk to anybody about anything always left me in awe. I wished I was like that.
By the time we went to Apple Store and got back into the car, my shiny new iPhone in hand, the girls were still discussing Lauren’s crush.
“Everybody knows that it’s hard to keep Callum’s attention. I haven’t heard of him dating anybody seriously, ever. Hell, I haven’t even seen him look at nobody and he’s constantly at my house with my brother, so I would know.”
I’d decided to sit in the back alone so they could gossip in the front and leave me in peace, but Paris had left the music off so there was no escaping the conversation.
“So he’s definitely single?” Lauren asked, “He’s not talking to no one important, not interested in a girl, no nothing?”
“As far as I know; that is correct.”
The car was silent for a second as Lauren mulled everything over. “But, look how many girls like Callum -”
“Like every girl in Virginia!” Paris interjected unhelpfully.
“- why out of all those girls would he like me?”
“Why wouldn’t he?”
“Because he could have any girl,” Lauren responded, “Every girl! Maybe the reason you don’t see him with a girlfriend - he wants to just mess with as many chicks as he can instead of committing to one.”
“Well at some point he’s gonna get a girlfriend.” Paris remarked simply. “Could be anybody.”
***
I couldn’t have been any happier when we pulled up outside my Aunt and Uncle’s house; I literally jumped out of the car the second Paris had parked up.
Lauren was still with us, which I was certain meant hours more of unnecessary conversation and precise analysis over something as ridiculous as what the tone that Callum used when he last said hello to Lauren means.
I waited impatiently on the sidewalk as I watched Paris and Lauren remove their purchases from the car so we could get in the house. As much as I wanted to run inside and lock myself in my room I didn’t want to be rude, but during the last few minutes of the car ride they’d started asking for my input and I really didn’t want that to continue. I’d already done my fair share of socializing today.
I could have screamed out in frustration as I watched a black Range Rover pull up beside Paris’ car. I knew from the expression on Lauren’s face that it wasn’t, as I had hoped, just a random Range that just happened to be parking right there. No of course not, it was Callum’s car. Cue eight million hours of more chatter over this boy.
I folded my hands over my chest and purposely averted my eyes as I heard his car door slam and him offer a casual “what’s up?” to the girls.
“You good?” Callum asked as he passed so close to me that our forearms brushed against each others. I looked up, the brim of his hat was low, concealing most of his face, but as our eyes connected I noticed that his were a calm shade of blue. He was very gorgeous. About 6’2”, if I had to guess. He had skin the color of honey and perfectly full lips. His hair peeked out from beneath his hat, all dark blonde curls.
It couldn’t have been more than a second that we he was that close to me, looking right into my deep brown orbs as I looked back into his pretty ones, but to me it felt like a lifetime.
I nodded gently in response and he smiled, displaying a deep pair of dimples, before continuing on his way.
I watched, unable to help myself, as he walked up onto the porch. He glanced back unexpectedly and caught me looking at hime. He offered another smile as the heat rose up in my face and I blushed like a pre-teen schoolgirl.
So that’s what they were chattering about.
[If you’re new to this story, please go back a few posts to find the Introduction. This is not the first add.]
Chapter One: Richmond
My Aunt and Uncle owned the nicest house I’d ever seen.
The house had four floors, including a basement where Jason resided. The kitchen, dining and living room were on the ground floor; all rooms were ridiculously big and furnished in a way that made them feel extremely cozy. On the second floor was the master bedroom, Jason’s old room, Paris’ bedroom, the den and a large bathroom.
I couldn't help but think, as I wandered awestruck around the second floor, that I'd love to live in a house like this. It was just so... homey. So neat and tidy without feeling sterile, warm and cozy without feeling cramped, big and spacious without feeling hollow. All the best technology made the house feel modern and up-to-date, iPads and MacBooks and Apple TV galore, but not in a way that made it look over the top. It was perfect.
“We thought you might want some privacy, so you’re up here.” Uncle Clarke explained as he lugged my suitcase up another flight of wooden stairs to the third floor and opened the door at the top of it.
“Here we are.” He smiled. “I’ll leave you to settle in. The kids will be home soon and we’ll call you when dinner is ready.”
***
I’d dumped my suitcase onto the double bed of the guest room and unpacked the majority of my belongings. The room was big with white walls, wooden flooring and, thankfully, a big window that had been left open to let some cool air in. A television was mounted on the wall at the end of the bed and an iPod dock sat on the dresser beside a full-length mirror. Two double wardrobes sat up against the back wall, they were just begging me to buy more clothes to fill with them during my four week stay, a temptation I knew I would never be able to resist. Also on the back wall, to the left of the wardrobes was another door that upon entering I found out led to an en suite bathroom. As I looked around the fully equipped bathroom with a shower, toilet, sink and tub, I couldn’t help but wonder what my Aunt and Uncle did for a living that made them able to afford a home like this. Or maybe it was just the fact that I lived in New York where a place this size would cost near enough a million caused me to think you needed to be stinking rich to afford this.
Within minutes I’d already been able to make the bedroom look cluttered and messy with all my shit, no matter how neatly I tried to lay things out. I'd filled the wardrobes with my clothes; a sea of black garments that didn't seem to have a beginning or an end. I was a creature of habit. I wore nothing but American Apparel Easy Jeans and an assortment of black tops, and I had them by the truckload.
My prized possession, my Dads old leather biker jacket, had been hung up in the doorway. I'd been unable to keep many of his possessions after he passed, besides what he'd left in the will, so I cherished this jacket with all of my heart and soul. It brought back memories of him, like the kids in my class gawking over my 'cool dad' waiting for me out in the school yard adorned in leather and ripped denim, or him riding around the city on his motorcycle. The jacket swamped me; the shoulders were too big, the sleeves too long, but I wore it anyway. I always felt proud wearing my Dads jacket. It was like a badge of honor.
My makeup and hair products sat on the dresser. I was a liquid eyeliner enthusiast. That, and a billion coats of mascara, was all I wore on my face. My hair was another story. It was wild and untamed, and it hung to my waist in a tangle of curls that I religiously dyed the darkest shade of black. I spent my life going at my head of hair with my beloved GHDs, straightening it into submission, not stopping until it draped, pin straight, down my back. My Mom used to tell me that she was surprised I had any hair left with the way I'd go at, and my Dad would laugh, saying that us St. James' had enough hair for the whole of Manhattan.
I groped around in the bottom of my suitcase for a hairband and twisted my hair up into a topknot. The air felt cool on the back of my neck, a welcomed relief. I’d managed to work up a sweat while unpacking; trying to appear tidy really was hard work.
I kicked the empty suitcase under the bed and then collapsed on top of the mattress. The clock on the wall showed that it was only just after 9pm but I was exhausted. All that packing, unpacking and flying had worn me out.
I stretched out on the crisp, white sheets and stared up at the ceiling. Now that I had some time alone, I was beginning to feel anxious about meeting my cousins. I had never been good at meeting new people, making conversation, or any of the social skills that getting people to like me required. Whenever I did manage to trick someone into thinking I was an okay person, I’d manage to mess it up someway, somehow.
I’d vowed myself that that was all going to change now. I wasn’t waiting until the New Year to make a resolution. I, Erin St. James, had decided that I no longer wanted to be the anti-social, awkward girl in the back of the room. I was going to vibrant and present and friendly and outgoing and all of the other stuff that people aimed to be on their journey towards self-actualization. I had left unhappy Erin in New York. I had promised myself she would not make an appearance in Virginia and I intended to stick to it.
Suddenly, the door knocked and I sat upright on the bed.
“Come in,” I called.
The door swung forward and opened so that it blocked the view of the bed that I was sitting on.
“I’m here.” I said shyly, leaning to the side to get a look at the person who’d knocked.
“Hey.” A guy, who I assumed was my cousin Jason, had entered the room. He stood about 6ft tall, with rich brown skin and dark wavy hair. He’d inherited the same hazel eyes that my Dad and his Dad both had but had Auntie Jodie’s nose. “I’m Jason, you must be Erin.” I stood up and shook his hand when he offered it. “My Mom said dinner will be like fifteen minutes but she’ll call you down anyway.” He turned and left the room.
I managed to squeak out an “okay” as the door shut behind him.
I’d pulled out my hairband and had barely sat back down on the bed when the door swung open once again.
“Hello?” A female voice called as she entered. I didn’t have time to say anything before she looked around and spotted me on the bed. “Hey, Erin!” She bounded towards me and pulled me into a big hug as I sat startled and crushed within her grip. She released me and sat on the bed beside me. “Oh my God, you’re so pretty! Mom said you were pretty but oh my God!” I tried to thank her but her attention was now on my hair, which she had reached out to stroke. “Your hair is so long and pretty,” She gushed. “I cut mine a few months ago and I’m still trying to grow it back.”
She had paused long enough for me to speak so I seized the opportunity with both hands, “So you’re Paris?”
“Yeah, sorry, I forgot to introduce myself,” she smiled. “I love your accent, by the way.”
“Thanks, I -”
“I really want to visit New York one day, I love the way y’all speak, it’s too cute. My Dad’s accent has faded since he’s lived here so long, yours is a fresh one. I love it.” She paused to try and imitate the way I spoke. “So you’re Paris?”
I smiled; this girl was a motor mouth. “Pretty good.”
Paris grinned back at me. I took a moment to look at her; her and Jason looked a lot alike, they had similar face shapes, the same mouth and nose, the same eye color. Her hair was light brown with a side part and hung down straight just past her shoulders. She was a pretty girl.
“So how old are you?” She asked, braiding a portion of my hair.
“Twenty.” I responded. There it was again, the reminder.
“And how long you here for?”
“Four weeks.”
Paris tugged the hairband of my wrist and used it to secure the end of the braid she’d just finished. “Good, so I got like a big sister for a little while,” she glanced at me, her eyes gleaming, “Well actually you’re only like a year older than me so it’s more like twins.”
My eyebrows rose slightly and I relaxed them as she looked at me again.
Paris continued on jabbering about all the fun things we were going to do in Virginia until her Mom called us down to eat. It seemed like I wouldn’t have to worry about my ability to communicate when it came to her; she did enough talking for the two of us.
Introduction: -10 In The Shade
Black. Black. Black.
It was everywhere. All around me. My hair, my clothes, my mood.
I stared out of the airplane window, watching the ground get closer and closer as the aircraft began to descend on Richmond, Virginia. I hadn’t left New York in all of my 20 years, and in the last 5, I'd barely even left my bedroom. It felt strange to be this far away from home and to be looking down upon a city that looked so unlike the one that I was used to. There were no skyscrapers or heavily congested blocks, no parade of yellow taxi cabs filling the noisy streets, just a whole lot of greenery.
We landed on the tarmac of Richmond International Airport and the Virginian heat engulfed me the moment I stepped off the plane. I navigated through the busy airport, head down, dragging my suitcase behind me, while Lana Del Rey agonized over her Million Dollar Man in my ears. I liked Lana Del Rey. I admired her vulnerability, her submissiveness, her delicacy. I loved that she was an open book, unashamed, that she’d let it all out and she didn’t care who knew about it. We were nothing alike, though. She was the tragic beauty queen and I was the dark, angsty twenty-year-old. She wanted to be saved and I… well. I didn’t know what I wanted. A little reprieve, maybe. A little less darkness. A little more light. Some rest, too. I was tired of it all.
The nervousness I felt at the prospect of spending my summer here in Virginia was already bubbling up inside of me. It was so easy to melt into the shadows of fast-paced New York. There was no such thing as being out of place there; everything was so weird and wonderful that nobody paid any mind to the dark-haired girl with tattooed arms that hardly ever spoke, they were too wound up in their busy lives. To say that I was concerned about sticking out like a sore thumb in a place so placid was an understatement.
***
I hardly took in any of my surroundings as my Aunt and Uncle drove me from the airport to their home. The scenery from the car window I sat beside was nothing but a blur. The sky outside the vehicle was already sinking into the horizon on this July evening and the roads weren't particularly busy; it seemed as though most folks had already retired for the night, so I simply sat in the backseat, immersed in my thoughts.
I had been startled, to say the least, at the arrivals lounge. Although I hadn’t seen my Aunt Jodie or my Uncle Clarke since I was a newborn, I’d recognized the latter straight away due to how much he resembled my Dad. They looked so alike that they could have passed for twins. They’d both embraced me warmly and Uncle Clark had carried my case for me as they led me to their car. The couple, to my relief, seemed nice, though it’d probably take me some time to get used to my Aunts thick accent - I’d already had to ask her to repeat herself a number of times and we hadn’t even reached the house yet.
“I can’t believe how much you look like Danny,” Uncle Clarke commented disbelievingly as he glanced at me in the rear-view mirror. I smiled at the reference to my Dad; it was nice to hear his name said aloud. “How old are you now, Erin?”
“Twenty,” I responded shyly. I hated telling people my age, it always reminded me of how little I'd achieved and that I no longer had the excuse of still being a teenager to fall back on. I was now in my twenties.
“You’re right in the middle of your cousins,” Aunt Jodie looked back at me with a smile, “Jason is twenty-one and Paris is nineteen.” I nodded, hoping that they were as nice as their parents. “We’re so glad you could come and visit, sweetheart.” Aunt Jodie continued, “We had tried to contact you for a while but lost contact after your Dad died, and Paris said she couldn’t find you or your sister on Facebook.”
“Yeah, I don’t have a Facebook and I moved house, so…” I shrugged. “But yeah, when I spoke to Mom – “ I glanced in the rear-view and could have sworn I saw my Uncle’s jaw tighten at the mention of my Mother. “- she said you’d managed to get hold of her… Thanks for inviting me out here.”
“It’s our pleasure. Your Dad was meant to bring you girls out here years ago, but I guess life just gets in the way sometimes...” His voice trailed off and I understood it instantly. It’s the recognition of loss, of regret, of wasted time. He snapped out of it a moment later and smiled, “You’re here now, anyway. It really is such a shame Leanna couldn’t make it too.”
I almost rolled my eyes at the mention of my sister. I could only imagine what excuse she gave for not coming out here. In reality she was probably just too busy sniffing coke and hanging out at Planned Parenthood to bother. Not that I wanted her to come; my life was better the further apart she and I were.
“Yeah.” I breathed half-heartedly, and then leaned back on the seat to resume my thinking.
My memory of the day my Dad died was vague, but for me that was the beginning of the end. I remember my Mom sitting there, at the table where we'd usually have our family meals, a blank look on her face and no emotion in her voice as she said words like "knife" and "murdered".
My sister, former arch nemesis of mine, now simply a sworn enemy, was the complete opposite. She was wailing so loudly that I could barely hear myself think. She'd always been the type that burst with emotions, usually anger that then morphed into sadness, and that day was no different.
Me, I was numb. Empty. I don't remember what had happened before or after that conversation that day, but I felt I hadn’t been the same since. I could barely even remember who I was before then.
Things had crumbled after we lost Dad. My Mom was no longer my Mom. She resigned from the job, it seemed, and reassigned herself to the role of her new mans fiancé and stepmother to his kids. She clothed and fed them, and left my sister and I to fend for ourselves. Up until my Dads inheritance kicked in when I turned 18, my months were littered with days where I had no idea when I'd be able to afford my next meal.
We pulled up in the driveway of a large house just a little while later. I hopped out of the car and stopped for a moment to have a quick look around. The sun had long set upon the peaceful street we were stood on. We were the only people outside in the warm breezeless evening, everybody else seemed to be relaxing inside one of the almost identical houses that lined the street. From what I could see so far it seemed to be pretty peaceful, the complete opposite of what I was used to, I could hear no police sirens, see no drunks, smell no fumes in the air... This was alien to me.
I scanned the street quickly once again before heading into the house, hoping that I’d somehow be able to settle into a city that seemed to be the opposite of everything I was.