Plus size main love interest. Polyamory. Love square. Explicit sex. Slow burn romances. Alternative universe. Magic. Witches. Au vampires. Lore. Long fic. Mythology. AAlternative ending to Breaking dawn, No pregnancy! Sorry lil regurgitation. Dark Edward. Dark Bella. Protective Jasper. Autistic Coded Original character. Lgbt. Past Alice/Jasper. Bella/Jasper friend ship. Vampire Bella. Fantasy. Horror. Lesbian Alice. Himbo Emmet. Protective Rosalie. Soap opera. Mommy issues. Daddy issues. Fem Dom. Au! Chaos. Smutty. 18 . Graphic! Kinky. Mental illness.
My foundation laid on sliding land. Land that had slowly begun shifting underneath my wood. Bricks crumbled slowly turning me to dust! Tendrils of rot spread throughout my body. The walls are torn. Infestation sets in. Legs crawl throughout my organs. Eating and shitting. Leaving eggs inside me. Their life spreads within my decaying carcass, feeding the life cycle.
Wild animal droppings spread across my carpets. The pungent ammonia heaviness creates dry heaves within every passing breath. Debris peels of my skin fall to the floor. Barring my bones, making them swell and distorting my face with crevices, them bulging out of place.
Boards nailed to my shattered broken windows blocking my sight. Shall light ever pass through my open halls illuminating my chandeliers? Will my children ever dance within me enjoying the life I give them? Shielding them from the elements of our cold hard world. Watching closely, hearing the whispered conversations they think are free of onlookers? Will I ever see them go on to create their own family's, them giving me the purpose of extending my existence?
As the seasons pass my grave decays further displaying the dilapidation. I sit alone, wasting away into the faded background of forgotten eras. Harassers come annually to poke my doorbell screeching accusations.
"Witch!Witch! Witch! Why won't you come bay at the moon? Please, oh' please Let's swing in the trees under the starry night. Witch! Witch! Witch!"
The lyrics amended as the clock of time shifted further and further running from my porch, screeching at the sounds of the pipes rattling. Wait! what is this? Oh my. Could it be? Visitors, for the first time in a century, I watched as two adults pranced inside.
"It requires a lot of work. I know she will just love it up in the tower."
This one had the coloring of sweet gum tree wood. While the other of bleached birch. Bronze and silver I called them.
"Of course she will, she still thinks of herself as a princess at seventeen."
"Clara, whose fault would that be? "
"I'm simply saying, Alex, will love it. I just don't know how much she will love it, here. You have to admit Forks, isn't exactly her beat."
"Well, maybe that will be a good thing. You've said you worry about her social life. The lack of it. Maybe in a smaller town, she could blossom."
"Blossoming isn't her problem! It's who she chooses to engage with. She's blossomed just fine. She likes to pick up strays. Rough kids..."
"I know. Listen it's going to be ok. The business is picking up. I got the grant I needed. We were able to get you your storefront. I feel good about this place Clara. I think this is where she needs to be. Hopefully, she will start the change... "
"Would it be so wrong if she didn't? Why does she need to, change? What if she could just live? Not have this burden we share?
"She already bares it, Clara. "
Two seasons pass as these visitors came back many times over. My shingles were the first to be mended. The banging all night wreaking havoc, them pruning and plucking. Eventually, I began to see. My eyes widened as those boards were replaced with pale pink stained glass windows.
These people weren't hurting me. They were healing me. Shedding back the layers of neglect. My bones shifted overnight, slowly moving back in place. Cracks and holes mended, floors replaced... I began to resemble a home.
A home, I was once a home. Brooke manor. The cursed witches land. The children sang songs at me about a murder. A young witch cursed these lands with her blood after being hung by the townsfolk.
Although they didn't quite know the true story. My first child, a spinster. She was a chemist, awfully ahead of her time. Because of the rules of society, she was deemed an outcast. A witch. Dismissed and turned into a mere joke. As the decades past the story changed as I began to rot, my appearance creating a horrific origin of my creation.
However, these children, that I house now. They are the truth in that story. witches! They are witches I tell you. This is the story of how my bones grew because of one young witch and her flamboyant aunts.