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Many a year ago there were two bored girls that liked to write. They have returned... |
| [Introduction]
Once upon a time Ariana and Aideen bombarded the campfires of Writing.Com and created many random stories. Well, good people. We're back. |
| Hello everyone!!! I wonder if anyone out there remembers us. Probably not, huh? I bet they've all grown up from campfires and graduated to statics. Oh well, anyone who does recognize us I'm waving hello at you! My good friend Aideen, its good to be back. How many additions do you think it will take for us to get to an actual storyline? Ten-twelve turns? I say, this does bring memories ol chap! |
| Hey yo everyone!! And I am putting my money on it taking us almost 13 posts to get this things going, this ball rolling. And why 13 you may ask? Just because it is 1 more then Ariana's. This is bringing back good memories though: Richard Simmon's and twinkies, "poof", and something else I can't remember. Okay so lets start this off, i only have 11 more posts to win the bet. Will there be romance? I wonder..... |
| Psh! Romance? What kind of wild new modern idea is that? Of course there will be romance. First, there is desire. Then there is passion. Then, suspicion! When love is for the highest bidder, there can be no trust. Without trust, there is no love! Yes. I just quoted Moulin Rouge. Well, what will bring on this romance? Circumstance? Eyes meeting across the room? Drunken one night stand? And then of course, what the hell are we writing about? Regular people? Fairies? Werewolves? Vampires? Ghosts? Science experiments? Um... Which one haven't we done? There's got to be more than just that. |
| What havn't we done, thats a hard question to answer. I know we havn't done aliens, mermaids, shapeshifters, government conspiracy or witches. Thats all I could think of at the moment. I do know there will be sarcasm, my crappy spelling and probably someone peeing. Why is it I always make my character pee in at least one addition. Gross. I promise right here and now not to make my character pee. Ohhh idea! Wait for it! Wait for it! No, I lost it. Thats all I have Silent Ariana. |
| Actually you came up with some pretty good ones. Witches, govt conspiracy, shapeshifters. I don't know how either of us will do with aliens... We're not all that sci fi. Mermaids I've always had a problem with because I don't understand how anything can be sexy when the fish people are missing some pretty essential parts. We've got it pretty narrowed down with that much. So are you feeling magical or conspiracy theoristy? Magical would be more froofy and conspiracy theory would take more research. |
| Lets stick with magical only because I am in to good of a mood to have it fucked up by reading about conspiracy theories. So what kind magical? Witches, fairies, elves, all of the above. And I think we always do quite well making up our own little worlds. Whats the conflict also? I mean we don't want to give away the story but whats the beginning time line. 2 characters are from _______ (insert town here) the problem is ________. then we will write and then BAM! An original Ariana and Aideen masterpiece. |
| Well, we already did fairies. That was one of our successful ones if I recall. Even if it did have peeing in the woods. I actually really liked that one. Elves make me think of hobbits, for some reason, so I'm not really into them. I'm going to vote witches, though I can be persuaded if you want to do something else. Does that work for you? I mean, we'd have to define what witches can and can't do, what makes a witch (spells? wands? inherited powers?) Can a boy be a witch? Are there cats involved? Hey! This is just in time for Halloween! So I will work on your little madlib up there... Um... Two characters are from..._______ (big town? little town? island? roaming RV?) and the problem is______ (bad guy has risen again? main characters are discovering from their families that they are witches? one character tells another they are a witch? they both know they are witches and their families don't like each other? one of them has just moved there and the uniting of two characters is stirring up bad juju? something happens that turns them into witches? um... something else that I can't think of right now?) That's all the brain power I have for tonight. BTW we need to go to that canyon one of these days. And the gym. I've got a hankering for adventure that doesn't involve asthma attacks. We also need to go costume shopping. And buy our New Moon tickets. Damn. That list of things to do is too long. Oh and for good the record... Fred of Santa Clarita can suck a big fat one!!!!! Now the world knows. |
| He sure can! Okay so I like the idea of witches and them just finding out only because I can think of so many things that can go wrong. I like the idea of maybe spells but I can't rhym so it could get intresting. But i think it should be one main power then like basic stuff. I like the idea of a small town, again because so much could go wrong. Yes a boy can be a witch, well a wizard but what ever. As for the gym we're going thrusday and friday. We're going exploring both days if we have time. We do need to get our tickets but donna will do it, we'll just give her cash, and yes we do need to get halloween costumes. |
| Yay! Okay, so two people find out they have powers in a small town. I do like the idea of each having one main power that doesn't require a spell. Let's see, let's see. How about what state this takes place in? OH! ::raises hand and jumps up and down:: Can we please set it in Oregon? Puh-lease! So will they inherit the power? Or will some situation give them these powers? I kind of think that something should give them the powers, because two people going through the exact same thing seems unlikely. |
| No I agree with you, something should give them the powers. And of course the story can take place in Oregon, it's your home away from home and I want to make it my home. Awww I miss Portland :( Well I guess we can start with character bios unless we missed something. |
| Oooh, this shall be fun. I miss bios! They're so much fun to fill out! Okie doke. Um... Maybe Canon Beach? Name: Missy Longshore Age: 18 Family: Her mother, Trisha. And a siamese kitten, who is a new addition. Personality: Missy is a loner for the most part. She's pretty tough, which is sort of a mask for how sensitive she is. She believes the more drastic the action, the faster the results. Unfortunately, this has left her to be very unapproachable, and she often closes herself off from the world. She's constantly unmotivated and bored. Interests: Reading books. Lots of them. Appearance: What she has in attitude, she lacks in size. She's about five foot two if you want to be generous and round up. She's very thin through no fault of her own and she always prefers her black frame glasses over contacts. She has brown eyes and pale skin. She has the potential to be pretty, though she usually keeps her short dark hair in a small ponytail. Her wardrobe is pretty drab, full of hoodies, jeans, and sneakers. History: Her father divorced her mother shortly after she was born and ran off with another woman never to be heard from again, aside from the checks that came in the mail. She was raised by her mother alone who owns a used book store. She used to have three really good friends, but since the end of high school they'd all gone their separate ways, leaving Missy to drift into adulthood alone. Thanks a lot Sunshine Cleaning. Now I had to put the stupid cat in my addition. Damn. By the way, we came up with a plot idea in 11 additions. I win! |
| Damn it! Okay you win, woo. Okay so I guess I should put my bio thingy in now but i don't have a clue about who I want to write about. Hold on, figured out how to at least solve the gender issue. I'm going to pull it from a cup, yes this is how I make all my big decisions. And no, I can't use a coin because I will forget which side is which. Okay so I am going to be having a...boy. How anti-climatic. Okay so here I go. Name: Noah Carmichael Age: 19 Family: Noah has the perfect suburban family. There's his perfect soccor mom Kathy and hard working father Carl and younger sister Eliza. Apperance: His blonde hair is naturally streaked from the sun from all the surfing he does in his spare time. His eyes are a clear, bright blue that never let his true feelings through. His skin is somewhat tan due to the lack of sun. He stands about at five foot nine with strong shoulders and a tappered waist. Personality: He's a closeted geek. He loves movies and video games even though he has no system of his own. He is sarcastic and blunt to a fault. In several cases his honesty has gotten him in trouble. He's a typical teenage boy who is just ending his rebellious stage, finally figuring out that if he wants to get his way he has to work WITH his parents not against them. History: Noah's family is extremly religious however he could care less. His father works at the taffy shop about three blocks from their home along the coast. His mother is a stay at home mom, a full time job all in itself. Eliza is fifteen and beginning to rebel against everyone and everything and Noah can't blame her. His home is essentually a prison. The only escape he ever finds is from surfing, when he's out there riding the waves he feels free and invinsable. Noah is working at the video store off the main road attempting to save up enough money to move out of Cannon Beach and head to Portland where he wants to go to school to be a Art History major. |
| Missy and the new cat didn't get along very well. This was no surprise to her mother. She rarely got along with anything that formed opinions or took up space in her life. It didn't help that they already lived in a tiny house in a small town that consisted mostly of tourists and a handful of locals. There just wasn't enough room to be patient in Canon Beach. Especially in the summer. Missy sifted her spoon through her cereal while glaring at the little kitten at the table. He seemed just as eager to take her on in a staring contest. "Shoo cat. Get off the table," Missy said. The cat did nothing. It just stared. "Leave him alone, Miss," her mother said. She bustled through the kitchen still looking for her purse. Missy locked her glare on the cat, only vaguely aware of her mother's heels clacking in and out of the kitchen in a hurry. "We really have to name him and get a collar or something. He cannot be out there in all the storms we've been having lately." Missy wished she could roll her eyes without losing the staring contest. "Why is it allowed to sit on the table? The thing walks in its own feces," Missy said. She heard her mother's sigh. "It's just a baby," she said. She had found her purse and slung it on her shoulder. She stopped by the kitten, scratched its ears and kissed its cheek. Still, it hadn't blinked. Missy narrowed her eyes, refusing to blink herself. Then she got a kiss on the cheek from her mother too. "You're coming in to help in the store at noon," her mother declared. There was no doubt that it was a command. Not a suggestion. "Sure," Missy grumbled gruffly. "And don't be late! You can't just sit around and nap all day!" she added over her shoulder as she walked toward the front door. "Love you too." The screen door slammed which was soon followed by the rumble of the ancient Cadillac that desperate needed a new... well, everything. Missy and the cat still had never looked away. Missy smirked cruelly when she was sure her mother was out of earshot. "You better get useful, you little shit. You're not going to be cute forever," Missy whispered to the cat. Suddenly the kitten hissed. Missy blinked and cursed. She rubbed her eyes with the ribbed cuffs of her black hoodie. She looked across the table where the kitten squinted happily. The kitten jumped off the table and trotted away victorious. "Stupid cat," Missy huffed. She sighed and looked out the window. It looked like it was going to rain again. She drank the rest of her milk and dropped her bowl in the sink with a loud metallic clang. Showing up some unsuspecting newbs on the internet would make her feel better. Then at least she could manage through the rest of the day in a relatively decent mood. |
| It was going to rain. A smile plastered itself on his face as he ran around the house looking for the wax for his surfboard. His parents hated it when he surfed during a rain storm but thats when the only good waves come to their little resort town. "Noah you had better not be planning to do what I know your going to do?" The yell came from his mother who was baking home made bread in the kitchen. Noah just rolled his eyes as he went into the garage. He had no intention of letting his mother ruin his day. He already had to cancel his day off because with the rain comes more people staying to watching movies. What a shock. His blue eyes scanned the boxes for one labeled "Noahs Junk". He and his family had just moved into the large three story house that had belong to his grandparents before they had been killed in a car accident three months ago. The house's west sidd was almost all glass and faced the ocean. A path that ran a total of about a mile to a mile and a half from the hotels at the southern point of town to the northern point. Noah did have to admit to himself that living so close to the beach was a definete plus because now he didn't have to drive his car with his surfboard tied to the top to get to the surfing spot. Now all he had to do was walk out the white picket fence and across the path into the dunes. "Ah ha!" Noah called out as he located his box. Opening the box he smiled, right on top was his wax. Quickly he grabbed it and closed the box, putting it right back where he had found it. An hour later the rain had started and Noah was putting his surfboard into the water. His feet went numb from the cold water but he was use to it. Paddeling out he expertly manuvered his board either under or over the wave heading out farther to hit the bigger waves. This is what life was made of, he thought as he sat up waiting for the perfect wave. |
| The bookstore was dead aside from the few aged tourists looking for a good read. The storm was brewing and Missy's mandatory four hours of service at the bookstore was nearly up. Her mother was in the backroom sorting out the books that needed to be out the next day while Missy doubled over the front counter next to the cashier. Dull days were rare during the summer rush, but it seemed as though the rains were coming in early this year. The waves climbed higher with each set and the sight through the window was like a beautiful painting. Missy sighed and checked the time. She had two more hours until she was off. The wind howled outside. There hadn't been a customer the entire time she'd come in. "Mom!" There was a pause. "Honey, don't yell. People are trying to read," her mother called back from the backroom. Missy leaned over the counter to see if anyone had come in that she hadn't noticed. No. It was completely empty. "No they're not," Missy yelled back. "There's no one here. Can we just close early or something?" "No," was the immediate response. Missy rolled her eyes and walked over to the window that overlooked Haystack Rock. The nice thing about storms like these was that it scared the tourists away. The ocean was pretty when it demonstrated its power, as though to remind civilization that nature would win every time. Then a surfer paddled into her scene. Missy frowned. "Idiot," she commented folding her arms across her chest. Who was stupid enough to surf during this kind of weather. Then she noticed that something else distorted the picture. Missy walked right up to the glass and narrowed her eyes to focus. She wasn't seeing things. Someone was climbing Haystack Rock. The man had nearly reached the top. It was a miracle in itself that she could see him through the fog. He looked like he was wearing a tuxedo. The combination of his wardrobe and the ill timed urge to conquer a rock gave him a somewhat James Bond appearance. "Missy, we can't close. The recent storms are killing our business. Just suck it up and man the register." But the voice of Missy's mother was far away as Missy focused on the man that had made it all the way to the top. In fact, he was just pulling himself to the top. The man stood up and looked at his surroundings, seemingly enjoying the sight of the storm as well, though he was facing the town. He was a white man whose silver hair gave his age away. Missy raised her brows and laughed admiringly. "Good for you, old guy," she muttered to no one. No one was allowed to be on the rock. The lack of crowds probably eliminated the witnesses so he could do this. "Miss! Are you at the register? You can't leave the money unattended," her mother shouted from the backroom. "Yes Mom," Missy answered distractedly. The silver haired man on the rock looked over the edge of the rock at his accomplishment, wind whipping at the jacket. The surfer below him was oblivious. Missy smiled at the scene. Now THIS was a beautiful scene. He opened his arms, welcoming the wind's brutality. The silence of seeing this from the bookstore gave the older man a somewhat poetic look. Like an angel. Then the man closed his eyes and let himself fall over the edge. Missy slapped a hand over her mouth to muffle her gasp as the silhouette of the man plummeted toward the angry waves. "Oh my god!" She bolted out the backdoor and ran out onto the beach. ~*~ (Sorry. I couldn't think of anything but a guy commiting suicide after today's trip. Your turn!) |
| Noah looked out at the ocean and flipped it off in his mind. He had drifted almost a mile away from the house trying to catch a decent wave but no matter how hard he tried the waves remained elusive. The ocean rocked him back and forth bringing him closer to Canon Beach's main attraction Haystack rock. Sighing Noah streched his arms preparing for the long swim home. Noah heard something above him, what it was he wasn't sure of. Before his mind could register what was going on a splash to his left caught his attention. The wake of the unknown source flipped Noah's surf board over taking him with it. Quickly he swam towards the surface, his heart racing, hands frantically trying to grab the surf board to help keep him a float. Taking in his surrounding's he didn't notice anything at first, but several moments later he knew the cause of the splash. All Noah saw was a body laying face down with silver hair plastered to the person's hair. Noah raced through his mind trying to figure out the proper procedure for CPR but he couldn't think of it. As fast as he could he let of his board and swam to the body flipping it over. The man was scary looking no doubt. Wrinkles covered his face, a long scar from his right jaw bone to his ear distorted his face. His skin was extremly pale against the contrast of the tux he was wearing. It took a couple moments but Noah was able to get the man on the surf board and started to head to shore. |
| Missy stopped running when she when she ran crossed the sand to the ocean. She panted, exhausted from the blast of adrenaline in her system. But then she took a breath. The surfer's head poked up over the white foam and pulled his board to him. Beside him, a lump of black fabric and grey hair. He pulled the body over the edge of the board and started to paddle in. Missy stood there gaping and feeling like an idiot. She was getting soaked in the storm and yet she was too numb to feel anything through the shock. The surfer grew closer, dragging his board ashore toward her before falling down and attempting CPR. She swallowed her shock and walked toward the jumper. He was flat on his back, bloodied and obviously broken. The surfer was over him pressing both hands onto his chest. "I don't think that's going to work," Missy said. The surfer looked up. And Missy knew exactly who he was. Noah Carmichael. She hadn't seen him he graduated the year before her. She wiped off her glasses and Noah ignored her and continued to press on his chest. "He's already dead. Even with the tide in its too shallow," Missy said. Noah looked up again. "Take out your cell phone and call someone. I don't know what the hell I'm doing," Noah said panicked. Missy's shock finally allowed her to unlock her muscles. She reached into her pocket for her phone and paced while she dialed 911. Noah wouldn't stop though. He seemed determined not to allow this person leave, even if he was probably cracking already cracked ribs in his attempts of recesitating. "911. What's your emergency?" "Hi, um... Me and someone else found a guy that had jumped off Haystack Rock. I think he's dead," Missy reported. She reported the whereabouts of their location and they promised to send an ambulance. They wanted to keep Missy on the line, but it didn't seem like much use to her so she just shut her phone and tucked it away. Noah looked up at her. "What did they say to do?" he asked. Missy shrugged and knelt down beside him. "We just need to wait," Missy said touching the man's wrist for a pulse. She ripped her hand away. "Aw! Gross! His hand's all crunchy!" Missy wiped her hand away. "His wrist must be shattered or something." Noah pulled himself off of the old man and looked at him. "He really is dead," Noah said. Missy nodded, the shock working its way in again. "Weird." "Yeah. Never seen a dead guy before." She looked up the rock. It was definitely not a good rock for climbing without equipment. Not to mention that was very much against the rules of the beach. "How did a guy like that get up there?" she wondered aloud. |
| "Beats me." Noah looked at the girl unable to place her. She didn't look like a tourist but he had been wrong before. Something about her seemed familiar though. "Um, I'm Noah?" He interjected, unsure of what to say. "I know," the girl looked out at the ocean, occasionally her eyes drifting to the dead body between them. "Right," Noah sat back on his surf board looking out at the resort behind the girl wondering if anyone was watching them. He was well aware that when he got home his mother was going to freak out at the thought of her baby boy seeing a dead body. And if he was being honest with himself it was quite cool, seeing the pale face man just staring up at the storm above. His eyes for some reason were open but he was to grossed out to close them. What if one of the shattered bones like, poked out the eye lid or something. Calm down man, Noah told himself as he looked back up at the girl. It took another moment but eventually he realized who she was. "You mom owns the book store. Misty right?" "It's Missy and yes my mother owns the book store. You do know what that is, right?" "Yes I know what that is, no reason to be rude. I was actually in there the other day looking for a book." Missy raised her eyebrows. "Really? Did it have pictures?" "No actually if you must now." Noah stood up as he saw the ambulance stop at the beach line. On the right a life gaurd truck came barreling down the beach. Noah grabbed the surf board and moved away from the body, Missy mirroring his actions. The paramedics preformed CPR but everyone knew that it was useless. "Well shit." |
| The police came by to take their statements and everything. The storm began to wind down and the coast guard was notified. The flashing lights on the beach were like a beacon for nosey locals that began to gather on the edge of the sand while the police took Noah and Missy aside. "His name was Wilson Graves," said Officer Michaels. It was a small town, and he was just one of the many men Missy's mother had dated after the divorce. Missy waited for that name to sound familiar. "Who was he?" she asked. The man shrugged. "You never seen him? Old guy that feeds pigeons outside of the Pig N' Pancake?" Missy shrugged, unwilling to admit that most of the people in this town were beyond her interest when she could spend all day reading. "Missy!" Missy grimaced and felt arms wrap around her damp shoulders. She blushed under Noah's gaze as her mother kissed the top of her head and spun her around. "What happened?" she demanded. The policemen that had been watching the yellow tape of the crime scene seemed to suddenly realize that a frantic mother had slipped past them. Officer Michaels held up a hand to signal that she was allowed. "Don't worry, Trish. Missy and Noah Carmichael witnessed a suicide," said Officer Michaels in a professional tone. Missy's mother sighed and spun her around. "Are you okay?" she asked. Missy rolled her eyes. "Yes. Stop fussing," Missy hissed. Her mother looked at Noah, taking in his silhouette with a glance. "Noah Carmichael? Kathy's boy?" she asked. "Yeah," Noah said. "Your mother is going to freak," Trish blurted, showing the most common trait she and her daughter shared. Noah sighed. "Yeah..." he said, a sudden looked of dread crossed his features. Trish looked to Officer Michaels hands firm on Missy's shoulders, as though read to to catch her in case she swooned. Missy shrugged her away. "Are we done here?" Trish asked. "Sure," said Officer Michaels. He looked to Missy. "I'll let you know if there's going to be a funeral or something for Mr. Graves." He and Trish met eyes. "Still have my number?" Trish asked. He nodded suddenly sheepish. Trish smiled. "Thanks Drew," Trish said. Missy gave Noah one more parting glance, before her mother led her away. |
| (Sorry took so long to add. Been busy planning my imaginary apartment.) Noah got out of the life gaurds truck moments before his mother came running out of the house, her face tear streaked. Rolling his eyes he grabbed the surf board before she was able to latch herself to him. "Oh baby I heard about what happened. Benny called Mary, who called Clarrisa who called me and told me you watched a man kill himself. Suicide is a sin and he will be punished in Hell." Noah's mother stepped back and took her son's face in her hands. "Let this be a lesson son." Noah shrugged his mother away and left without a word. That night at dinner all anyone wanted to talk about was Noah being nearly squished by the man. It got real old real fast. He had to shut off his cell for the first time ever to stop all his friends from bugging him. "I don't know why Noah couldn't be under the man when he fell, I could have finally have gotten my own bathroom," Eliza complained as she pusher her peas around her plates. "It wasn't time for our Noah to leave us," His father Dave stated. "Yeah, who would be left to bug you?" Noah said as he pointed his fork at his sister. "Everyone bugs me," Eliza mumbeled under her breath. |
| (That's okay. So was I. Yay for priorities!) At home, Missy informed her mother that she wouldn't be taking any calls, simply because the people that were calling her were phony friends and morbid neighbors. She didn't want to deal with them. She had simply come home, taken a shower, and stuffed the buds of her earphones in her ears. Missy looked over at her mother who was still frantically answering the telephone. With her hands in her dark hair, it looked like she was getting sick with the attention. Missy felt a spur of sympathy, maybe she should help settle the story so it would blow over that much faster. That thought quickly diminished as she spied the first in her favorite book series lying on the coffee table. OR she could start reading that series again. By the time she was finished, this whole thing should be well in the past. Ah, books. The great equalizer among mankind, as it turns anyone into a helpless spectator. Missy smiled and curled into the corner of her couch. She liked spectating. Participating required... well, participating, which was annoying to a loner like her. It meant being polite and tip-toeing around people's feelings. That meant trusting people to tip-toe around her feelings too. That was not an option. "MISSY!" The scream was muffled in the background of her own music, but it was enough to make her look up. Her weary mother stood in front of the couch waving her arms. Missy took out her earphones. Her mother sighed and put her hands on her hips. "I'm going to bed. Are you going to be alright?" she said. Missy looked outside. Was it night already? She looked at the thickness of the pages she'd already finished. Was she really reading that slow? "Yeah," Missy said, losing her annoyance of being interrupted in the confusion of how much time had past. Clearly she was thinking more than actually reading. Her mother noticed that something was off. Her weariness fell to motherly concern. "You're sure? You had a hard day," she said. Missy smiled weakly. "God, I'm really sick of people asking me if I'm okay. It's not like I was the one that did the Swan Dive of Doom today," she grumbled. Trish accepted that her daughter was fine, back to her regular behavior. With a passing glance over her shoulder, her mother went upstairs. "If you say so, Miss. Turn off the lights before you go to bed," she said. "Will do." Missy put her earphones back on and this time, focused on actually reading rather than thinking about the people of Canon Beach and the old man that couldn't take it anymore. ~*~ Missy woke up to a knock on the door. She looked up and saw that she had fallen asleep with her book on her chest and the lights still on. She grimaced and rose to her feet before the second knock could wake her mother. "Coming," she said flipping off lights as she went. She went to the front door and yanked it open. There was Ivana Casinger, the only lawyer in the whole town. Without any nearby competition she didn't really need to dress up for work unless she was in court. In fact, Missy was pretty sure the track suit she showed up in meant that this was just a stop on her morning walk. Missy resisted the urge to scowl. Nosey vultures... "Hello Missy," Ivana said. She cocked her head with a tight lipped smile of concern. "How are you doing?" Missy blinked. THIS was what she woke up for? "I'm fine. Yes, I saw the guy jump. No, I'm not traumatized and no, I don't want to talk about it. Thank you for your concern," she said in a rush. Missy started to shut the door. "Wait!" Ivana said almost jumping to put herself in the threshold. She put a delicate hand on the door to stop her. "Actually, I represent Mr. Graves' estate." That caught her off gaurd. Was it possible that she was simply working and exercising at the same time. Granted, Ivana wasn't really one to show up in suits everyday like a big city lawyer, but to drop in on Dead Guy's behalf was unnerving enough to make her listen. Ivana continued. "Wilson doesn't have family in the country and you probably didn't know him very well, but I think it might be nice if you came to his funeral," Ivana said. Missy stared in disbelief. Now she had to go to a funeral. "Do all people who witness a death have to go to the funeral?" Missy thought out loud. It wasn't until it was said she thought that it might have been better to keep to herself. Ivana smiled apprehensively. "Well I was going to ask Noah too. But I thought it might be appropriate since Mr. Graves donated his books to your mother's store," she said. Missy's heart sank. Well if he was going to be awesome and give her and her mother business then that didn't leave her much choice. Missy sighed. "Okay, then," Missy said, shifting her feet awkwardly. She opened the door and took the envelopes from Ivana. One had the information for the funeral. Already? Then again, she guessed suicides of all people should be prepared for this kind of thing. Missy shook away the thought and forced herself to focus. The sooner she could get her reality duties finished, the sooner she could return to fantasy. "Um... Consider this my RSVP, I guess." Ivana had an odd look on her face that was somewhere between horrified and amused. "Thanks Missy. I hope you feel better," Ivana said turning around and power walking down the driveway. Missy frowned, positive that she hadn't told her that she was distraught in anyway. She looked down at the envelope next to the invitation. It was handwritten in masculine caligraphy, addressed to her and her mother personally. Missy's brows came together in confusion as she shut the door behind her. |
| Noah didn't wake up till noon which was normal for him. What wasn't normal was his sister jumping on his bed. "You have two seconds to get off of your going to hit the floor with you face," Noah moaned. "Ms. Casinger is here to speak to you. Mom wants you presentable in T- two seconds." Eliza jumped off the bed and ran out of the room. As soon as the door was closed behind her Noah moaned once more and threw on a dirty pair of pants and a white wife beater. As soon as he got downstairs Noah's mother jumped up and ran over to him, giving him huge hug. Trying to act cool Noah eased his mother away. "Ms. Casinger," Noah nodded in acknowledgment. "Noah I'm here on behalf of Mr. Graves, the man you nearly watched kill himself." "Real subtle," Noah muttered under his breath, but not quite enough. Kathy nidged her son in the gut and looked at the attorney. "What does Noah have to do with him Ivana?" Ivana straightned her sweatshirt and took out an envelope from her bag. "I'm hear to ask Noah to attend the funeral formally." Noah paled at the thought of going to a complete strangers funeral. He didn't even know the guy, why would he want to attend a funeral for someone who could have killed him in the process of killing himself. "Why should I attend the funeral?" Noah asked not taking the envelople. "Mr. Graves owned the taffy shop your father worked at." "So?" Noah stated. "Noah, he gave your father the shop. He's now the new business owner," Kathy screeched in excitement. Noah was speechless. He looked from Ivana to his mother and back. "Wait! Dad now owns the taffy shop? As in, he runs it on top of making the taffy?" "Yes sir," Ivana stated. Noah hadn't even been aware this guy owned the shop and to give it to his father was amazing but no one even knew of the guy. Hell, his dad probably hadn't known that Mr. Graves had even owned the shop. He did recall his father stating that they had never met the owner, Mike the manager did all the work. "Then I'll go to the funeral," Noah said as he took the envelope. If the guy gave his dad a thriving business then he had to go at least thank him. Or his lifeless, crumpled body at least. |
| Attending a funeral was a new experience for Missy, and she was going to have to do it alone since her mother couldn't afford to close the shop. It still seemed odd to go to a stranger's funeral. Should she cry? Should she give condolences? And to who, if he had no family? She locked her crappy little rust bucket behind her and walked up the steps to the funeral home. There were none in Cannon Beach, so it was being held in Astoria. It had been a long drive in an oversized black suite and borrowed pumps. Missy walked up the steps to the funeral home and opened the door. The sight of the lobby made her freeze halfway through the threshold. It was completely quiet, but there were people everywhere. Hulking, husky strangers, to pale, beautiful ones filled every corner. There were no children and there were obvious cliques among the groups, but no one was talking. There was something eerie about the whole thing. Having momentarily disrupted the silence everyone's eyes were on her too. Missy quietly closed the door behind her and tried to look appropriately solemn. It was going to be hard to find a friendly face here. She hoped to God that this was the right funeral. "Missy!" hissed a voice. Ivana speed walked into the room and waved at her. Missy let out a breath and met her in the middle of the room. "Where's your mother?" "At work. She said I could represent the bookstore," Missy said. Ivana made a face. "You're eighteen right?" "Yes." Ivana exhaled in relief. "Good," she said. The lawyer turned her back to the strangers filling up the room and put a hand on Missy's back, leading her into the next room. "Who are all these people?" Missy blurted. "Um," Ivana began. She glanced backward too, obviously sensing the same thing Missy was. "I'm not exactly sure. Friends, I suppose." The next room was a quiet carpeted room with hors d'oeuvres and laid out on the table. "So... when is the service?" Missy asked. "Very soon. Make yourself comfortable," Ivana said. She skittered down the next hallway, back into the room of strangers. Missy was about to protest, but Ivana was already gone. She sighed to herself. It probably would have been pretty inappropriate to bring her book to the funeral, but she felt a familiar need to keep herself occupied and unavaible for small chat. She looked around awkwardly. "Make yourself comfortable," she repeated under her breath. "Right." |
| Noah had watched Missy enter the funeral but he hadn't made a move to greet her. All around him people who he didn't know stared at him; some friendly, some hostile. Ivana returned a moment later after leading Missy to the food table. She looked worried for a split second before her smile was replastered on her face. "You should probably go keep your friend company Noah, I don't want anything to happen to her." Noah cringed at Ivana refering to Missy as his friend but he nodded and headed towards the food. The lawyer was right, even if he and Missy didn't really know each other these people were to sketchy. Missy was loading a plate of the little tea sandwichs when he entered the room, her body hidden in a suit several sizes to big. "These people weird or what?" Noah asked startling the young lady. "Weird, maybe, but you don't know anything about them so don't judge them." Missy snapped back before she shook her head. "Sorry this place just gives me the creeps." "Same here. So have any of the other people spoken to you?" Missy shook her head no. "Me either." The door opened once again and Ivana emerged her face bright red. "The funreal is starting." "Are you okay Ivana your a little flushed?" Missy asked, setting down her plate. "I'm fine, this way please." Ivana left the room in a huff. Noah held open the door for Missy and followed her out to a now empty parlor. |
| The procession was nice enough, Missy and Noah guessed. They sat next to one another in quiet comradery brought on my mutual discomfort for the crowd. The man who'd died, Wilson Graves, didn't have a lot to say about his life. The preacher talked about his accomplishments and how he enjoyed to travel with little detail. He was quiet, but kind. A nice way of saying that no one knew a thing about him. Missy really missed her books now. This was a little too much reality for her taste, being surrounded by strangers mourning a person she didn't even know. She looked again. Then again all the other stranger people didn't seem to mind much that he was dead either. They quietly listened as the speaker dragged on the ulogy to make it seem as though he was saying more than he was. "This is weird," Noah whispered. Missy perked suddenly and gave him a look. She supposed she was grateful that she wasn't completely alone in this strange adventure. "Yeah," she whispered. They both instinctively looked at Ivana, as though suddenly wondering if she was the only real mourner here. She was blushing under the gaze of one of the more handsome guests. Noah and Missy exchanged a glance to make sure they weren't the only ones that witnessed it. So Ivana was here to hit on Graves' friends? Or maybe that's what the stranger was here for? They both turned as the preacher's voice took a tone that made it sound like he was winding down the ceremony. "He was a man who craved peace, obviously." Someone snorted and then coughed as though being jabbed in the gut. Noah and Missy immediately turned in that direction. "And so in peace he shall lay. Amen." The crowd muttered soft a "amen" followed by the CD playing Graves favorite songs. He seemed to have been a fan of old jazz. Ivana stood up and gathered her belongings before heading toward the two young adults. She smiled in greeting. Missy smiled too, standing beside Noah and hoping the comradery would last through any last formalities that needed to be done. "That was a lovely service," Noah said appropriately. Missy nodded, quickly taking his cue. "He seemed like a nice man," Missy added. Ivana's smile turned into tight line as she nodded in agreement. Clearly she wouldn't know if he was nice or mean or a closet cross dresser. Even the lawyer knew nothing about him that wasn't on paper. "Yes, he was," she said. "I know its a small turn out. Wilson didn't know many people. These people didn't RSVP, they just showed up. It was just supposed to be the three of us to be honest." Ivana looked over her should at the crowd. "Maybe we can finish business in the sitting room?" she asked. "You keep getting away from me, you," chuckled a dark voice. Missy didn't know why but it made her back stiffen in alertness the same time Ivana did. A hulking dark haired man in a trenchcoat stood before them, hands stuffed in his pockets. He was the same man who had smiled at her before. He seemed to just notice that Missy and Noah were standing there as well. "Oh. Hello," he said. "Hi," Missy and Noah chorused uncomfortably. "Did you know Mr. Graves?" "Um..." Noah began. He looked to Missy for help, but she could offer no solution. "Sorta. We lived in the same town..." "We saw him jump," Missy said. The man's brows went up. "Oh," he said. "That must have been awful." "Yeah. He almost landed on Noah." "Uh huh," the man said slowly, but smothering a smile. "You didn't actually know him." "Not alive," Noah said, brow furrowing as he wondered if it was too callous. "I don't mean to sound like a grave robber, but Graves had no heirs. No next of kin," said the man to Ivana. Ivana frowned. "His estate has been settled. What was your name?" Ivana asked. "Georgio Marquez," said the man. "I was a friend of Wilson's." As soon as this was said those in the parlor began to pay attention. Missy fidgeted uncomfortably under their gaze. The way they all reacted at once was like Georgio had just screamed the sentence. "So were we," said another petite woman followed by a larger man. "And us," said a small group giants. Ivana froze for a moment, deliberating on what to do. "Shame on you all. Wilson donated almost all of his property," Ivana chided. Missy pursed her lips into an awkward frown as the crowd became silent. Ivana steered Noah down the hallway and pushed Missy along to follow them. "That man has been following me all day. Vultures! All of them!" Ivana said. |
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