A/N: *enters the empty Coraline section* ...Anyone still here? I thought I'd try again at a sequel, this time with a longer plot and in 1st point of view. I promise that, *sigh* yes, this will end happily and differently than my last one.

This is a short chapter because... well, you know. It's the first one and I'm not sure what I'm doing.

Feel free to put any ideas for this story in a review! It would be greatly appreciated.


Okay, so maybe I didn't have any friends.

I just asked... What was her name again? I just asked Jessica Rivers if she would like to come to my 14th birthday party. Like everyone else I had encountered excluding Wybie, her reaction to my question wasn't that great. She stuttered a little bit, unsuccessfully trying to come up with an excuse as to why she couldn't come to the party. The way her eyes stared into space as she mumbled the word 'uh' multiple times was enough to tell me that she had no desire to come. Letting the invitation go limp in my hand, I backed off.

"I understand, Jessica," I muttered, making my way out of the crowd of girls. I rarely spoke quietly, for I felt as though my opinion mattered and it needed to be heard. This time, however, it wasn't worth it to say anything intelligent. I was definitely not in the mood to start another fight. That wouldn't look good again. Perhaps this was why everyone was so hesitant to do things with me and just be in my presence. At this point, I was tired of it. I was never really fond of hanging out with these type of girls, anyway. I just didn't fit in.

Tucking a lock of blue hair behind my ear, I sighed exasperatedly. Two people had only accepted my invitations. Some random girl I didn't even know seemed eager to come. By that time, I was desperate to the point where I started to throw the pieces of paper in the hallways. A girl with ratty blonde hair and giant glasses agreed that she would be there.

And then there was Wybie. My only true friend I had made since I left Michigan. He seemed to be the only person I felt comfortable around. He listened to most of the things I had to say, even if he thought they were ridiculous or insane.

One example of an insane thing would be my story about the Other World.

Yes, almost three years had passed since that horrid event occured. At times I tried to convince myself that had a very realistic dream. An extremely realistic dream, that is. My denial attempts didn't last for long, though. The nightmares of the place would return and I would know for a fact that it indeed happened. There was just no way to get anyone to believe me.

Wybie's Gramma was the only one that believed me at this point. When I had told her after my parents' party for getting their plant catalogue accepted, she didn't seem surprised. She told me that her twin sister had spoken of button eyes and wonderous creatures right before she disappeared. Wybie's Gramma, or Mrs. Lovat, said that she merely thought that her sister was making things up for attention.

She was definitely wrong. I could never imagine how it must feel like to lose someone because you didn't believe what they said. Then again, my parents almost had to find out how it felt.

As goosebumps began to form on my arms, I continued my trek down the crowded hallways. I would have to 'inform' my mom later that having a party was a bad idea. This was the exact reason why I didn't have a party the past two years. I didn't have any friends to invite.

I was just about to return to my next class or hide in the bathroom when I heard Wybie's voice behind me.

"Hey Jonesy!"

I hid a smile as his voice cracked. He would always get embarrassed when I made fun of his voice, claiming that he couldn't control what puberty did to him. Deciding to cut him some slack and not bother him, I turned. "Hey Wybie," I greeted. Suddenly feeling awkward about the invitations, I hid them behind my back. "What's up?"

Straightening the trench coat which was totally too small for him now, Wybie looked at his feet. "Nothing, really. I was just going to ask who you've invited to your party so far."

I glanced behind my back. "Oh, um... It's going great."

"I didn't ask how it was going. I asked who you invited." Wybie ruffled his hair, and I noticed once again that he really needed a hair cut. Then again, he wasn't himself without that mess of fuzz on his head.

Sighing, I replied, "Okay, you win. All I've invited is you and that... one chick."

He raised an eyebrow. "That one chick?"

"I don't really know," I admitted. "She seemed to want to come, though."

"So what you're saying is... No one will accept your invitations?"

"No!" I elbowed him in the arm, and he yelped. "I just have no one to invite. I'm really not close to any of the girls here."

"Or any girl at all?"

I gave him a deathly glare.

Wybie stepped back a few feet. "Okay, pretend like I didn't say that."

"Never mind," I sighed. "This party thing really isn't working out. Just having you come over for pizza or something seems like a better idea."

He gave me a weird look. "Are you sure?"

To prove my point, I made my way over to the nearest trash can. Raising the stack of invitations high, I let them fall into the pile of garbage below me. "I'm positive, Wybie. Now, I better get to class. I really don't want to get detention again."

He grinned, "How many detentions have you gotten? Oh yeah, thirty--"

"If you enjoy living, you'll stop talking now."


"Coraline, really? Are you still 11 years old?"

I glanced down at the mud dripping from my yellow swampers. After school, which I hadn't enjoyed at all, I decided that exploring would help me feel better. Due to all of the school work I had to do during the day, I really hadn't gotten the chance to go outside in a while. Now, coming back from the woods my boots had decided to track in mud with them.

I grinned sheepishly. "Possibly?"

My mother, Mel Jones sighed. She never seemed to be in a good mood, no matter what situation she was in. The only time she ever showed a real smile was when her plant ideas and catalogs got accepted. That or perhaps when I actually don't annoy her. This is a very rare occurrence. Putting a hand to forehead she said, "Drop them in the sink."

Once I had gotten them off my feet and safely into the sink, I began to scrub them with the nearest sponge and washcloth. Yes, I am a very messy person. I leave tracks of crumbs and mud where ever I go.

"Did you get more invitations passed out today?" My mom asked, mobilizing back to her laptop. She was always on it religiously, as if her life depended on it. My dad, on the other hand, actually found other things to do besides stare at a bright screen all day. I don't blame him for getting on the computer now. He threw out his old piece of junk about a month ago and got a nice PC.

I stopped what I was doing. Staring at the mud dripping down the boots as if it were art, I said, "Um... about that..."

My mom's eyes actually moved from the screen to look at me. "Yes?"

"I threw them out," I replied simply.

"What? Why? Coraline, you know how long it took me to make those--"

"Yeah I know, mom. I'm sorry. I just don't have anyone to invite!"

She took a sip from her I Heart Mulch mug. "I just thought that you wanted a party. After all, you haven't had one for the past two years."

I went back to scrubbing. "I just... don't do well with the girls at my school. I mean, really! All they do is gossip about things I don't care about and wear... pink." I wrinkled my nose at the disgusting color. "Honestly, mom, I have no desire for them to come to my house. And I know they don't, either."

She rolled her eyes at me. "Whatever you want to do, Coraline. It doesn't matter to me. I just thought this would be a good chance for you to get some new friends, and stop talking about that O--"

"Don't say it," I practically hissed. "I hate it when you bring it into our conversations." Rinsing the boots and cleaning utensils, I began to trot out of the room.

I glanced out of the corner of my eye to see my mom put her hands up. "Alright, there's no need to be defensive. I just... you know, worry about you sometimes."

I stopped at the entrance to the kitchen, putting a hand on the wall. "There's nothing to worry about mom. I'm perfectly fine in my crazy, friendless state." I emphasized the word 'crazy'. Everyone seemed to think I was mentally ill. I told one little story--that, I might add, was real and terrifying--to people and now they thought that something was wrong with me. Yes, I am different, but... I like it that way.

Shutting her laptop slowly, my mom sighed. "Coraline, I don't think you're crazy. What you say sometimes is... well... a little unbelievable."

"Fine. Sure. I understand."

I nearly ran out of the room before she could open her mouth to say something else.


I thought that once I got to sleep everything would be better. Sleeping usually helped my mood, especially if I was PMSing or if my mom lectured me for a long time. Both of those things were going on at once, which possibly prophesied the end of the world. I only got to drift off for a little while before I heard a noise.

When it first woke me up, I dismissed it as Cat wandering around the house. How that timeless cat manages to get inside my house at night, I will never know. The second time I heard it, I merely groaned and tried to block out the sound with my pillows.

Then it got louder.

So loud to the point where I had to get it to stop or I wouldn't sleep at all. Sitting up, I swung my legs to the end of the bed and attempted to walk out of my room. Annoyed with my bed head hair, I smoothed it down as I began to look around. The noise sounded like the scuttling of bug-like legs, and it was getting really hard not to ignore. Hoping that it was a small enough bug I could kill with my foot, I made my way down the stairs.

Nearly tripping from my foggy mind, I finally made it to the first floor. I tugged my blue blanket tighter around my shoulders. I've been sleeping with it for as long as I can remember. I don't need it to sleep, but I feel more comfortable when it's around.

I was definitely not expecting to see one of my greatest fears in front of me.

The Other Mother's, or as I and her past victims liked to call her, the Beldam's hand sat in front of the door. This door was the thing I tried to avoid most, way ahead of the old ladies that lived downstairs. The hand seemed to stare at me with a blank gaze, its needle-like fingers twitching.

My heart twisted and my whole body turned icy cold. The room temperature seemed to drop about twenty degrees and I couldn't move. My eyes, wide in fear, stared at the hand in front of me.

It wasn't possible. I went almost 3 years without any close encounters with the Beldam, let alone anything from the Other World. The place behind the door seemed silent the past few years. Now it was slowly waking up.

Clutching my blanket tightly with shaking hands, I expected the hand to lunge at me. It didn't. It just sat there, as though it were comtemplating a way to kill me. All I could hear was my shallow breathing and the ticking of the clock. I hoped the feeling of time slowing down was just me.

"W-What's going on?" I asked it, as though it would answer. Not that I wanted it to. If it did, I might have just keeled over. "How d-did you escape?" More importantly, how did it put itself back together?

The hand flexed its fingers, the noise of metal against metal bouncing off the walls.

"Why don't you ask its owner," a voice whispered in my ear. Chuckling, I felt the fingers of the person stroke my electric blue hair. A cold chill made its way down my spine. Preparing to knock the daylights out of a certain someone, I spun around. My fist met with open air.

Blinking a few times, I sputtered, "W-What?" I turned to see that the hand was no longer there. I suddenly felt sick, and I had to put a hand to my forehead. The hand could have been anywhere. Under the couch, in my room, in... the Other World. My eyes lingered to the door once again, and saw that nothing had changed. The door was unopened, the bricks and the dusty tunnel out of sight.

Shivering, I pulled the blanket tighter around my shoulders. I put a hand to my hair, still feeling the ghost of needle-like fingers upon my head. Exhaling deeply, I knew what I was in for.

My birthday was definitely going to be an interesting one.