A/N at end!
.: Prologue :.
Think about this and tell me if it seems fun, because I'm honestly having a hard time deciding: You're seventeen and are at the end of your rope. You have a car, fifty bucks, minimal personal belongings and strict instructions to make a beeline for Washington state. You're going to live with someone you've never met who will watch you until you reach legal adulthood.
Would you do it?
Or would you bail halfway there thinking you could mange on your own?
For most teens this must seem like some dream come true – a chance to just escape one life and pick up another.
To just start everything over.
Well what if you've started over so many times you've forgotten where you originally started – where you came from?
Granted, I knew exactly where I came from; there's just some things you can't forget so easily. When I first started moving from state to state with relatives I didn't even know I had I thought maybe things were finally looking up for me – that I was getting my do-over in life.
I was happy at first, getting to see the country from completely different views as I moved continuously across the states; blood relatives soon switching over to relatives by marriage and then people who were 'relatives' but not really.
I had practically left the family tree at that point.
It was always one inconvenience after another that would have me packing up and leaving: not enough money, space, time, moment in life – I'd heard them all.
When I moved in with Will and his husband in LA I thought for sure I had found a place to call home, at least in the stationary sense. They were nice, didn't care that I was pretty much bumming off of them, and gave me the best full year of my life – one where I wasn't forced to pack up and leave after only a month or two of trying to help out to make up for them taking me in.
It was ultimately my own decision to leave; I felt I owed it to them.
They had finally found a surrogate so as they could get the child they always wanted, so who was I to put a damper on that? They lived in a small apartment as it was and didn't need me filling up the spare room that was going to be the nursery. It was a teary goodbye – something completely foreign to me until then – and together they sent me on my way up to Washington state where Will's great aunt was more than willing to house me seeing as she had no kids of her own.
I had fully progressed onto complete strangers.
It was scary at first, but as the drive across state borders gave me time to think I realized that maybe this was one do-over out of the many I've had that I've been waiting for.
Your guess is only as good as mine as to how this whole thing could possibly pan out.
Here's to hoping.
.: Chapter One :.
Will had described his great aunt in entirely one word: eccentric.
This had, of course, made me slightly hesitant about making the drive up to the tiny town of La Push where she lived, but now that I was actually in the area, that one word seemed to make sense.
You'd have to be crazy to live in a place so green.
Then again I couldn't really complain: I'd lived in some pretty left-field places myself.
I shook my head in disbelief as I continued to putter along the seemingly abandoned road. The map on the passenger seat my witness that I was indeed right where I needed to be along with the printed out Google map of street specifics. I hadn't thought a place as small as La Push would even be Google-able, but alas: the search engine knew everything.
I followed the red arrows drawn onto the map off of the main road and felt the car dip as it left asphalt in favor of dirt and gravel. There seemed to be no one else living on the lane that I was proceeding down with caution, my mind vaguely telling me that this was how most slasher films usually started out. The trees practically formed a tunnel as I made a left at the oddly painted mailbox (purple with neon splatters) and started down the drive, the light dim and green as it filtered through the leaves. I drove on while growing increasingly nervous until the trees began to thin out and a small clearing came into view, a white house plopped in the middle and practically glowing as though from a fairy tale.
Oh my god.
The house – cottage seemed like a more appropriate word – did not only look Disney, but was the embodiment of it.
From where I sat parked next to what appeared to be a brand new VW Rabbit, I stared in slight shock across the yard. A small pea-gravel path led from the driveway up to the front porch, luscious plants falling out from the overgrown planters lining the walkway. Dispersed throughout these plants were small garden statues, each as different from the next. Gnomes were definitely the majority, followed by deers and other woodland creatures – birds, squirrels, frogs, rabbits.
You name it.
It would have been endearingly cute had they not all been staring at me.
I hesitantly got out of the car, wondering if the woman would even noticed if I never showed up. Granted, I didn't know where I else would run off to, but surely anywhere would be better than this, right?
"And here you are! Finally!" I jumped and looked up to find a not-so old woman standing on the front porch, every bit as colorful and unique as her yard. Her gray hair was short and choppy, looking as though she had just been electrocuted as strings and strings of beads hung from her neck, some of them getting lost in the folds of her multiple scarves. Her hands fluttered at her sides as she practically skipped down the porch steps and made her way down the path towards me, her skirt swishing wildly at the plants she jumped across in her haste.
And I just stood there.
"Will was right as usual – such a pretty, pretty girl!" And then she was hugging me, just like that, just like we had known each other since birth and I had just gotten back from a particularly long absence. Not quite knowing what else to do I merely patted the woman's back and allowed her to sway us back and forth where we stood, seemingly in sync with nature.
Where the hell had Will sent me?
"Y-you're Marjorie, right? Marjorie Nielson?" I asked, making sure that I hadn't made some wrong turn and ended up in the entirely wrong place – that'd be a godsend if I did.
"But of course!" The woman trilled before shoving me away so as to hold me at arm's length, her vivid blue gaze seemingly analyzing me. "And you're Quinnella James!"
God bless my mother and her knack for naming things.
"I-I go by Quinn, if that's alright." I stated, hating my name more so than usual.
"Alright? Of course it is! I'll call you whatever you like, my little Hollyhock! Now, let's see…" And just like that she fluttered past me towards the trunk of the car, my mind whirling as I tried to process what had just happened. I turned and watched as she cupped her hands on the glass to peer inside, much like a child would at an aquarium. She pulled away moments later and tapped her chin thoughtfully before turning back to me, her face lighting up in what appeared to be genuine happiness.
I braced myself for impact.
"We'll have some of the boys move your things in later," I had no idea who she was talking about, "in the meantime let me show you around your new home!" And with the energy I didn't think someone like her could possess, Marjorie Nielson shot forwards and latched onto my hand, towing me down the flower lined walkway and up the front steps of the porch, all while chitter-chattering away about plants and color schemes.
This was definitely shaping up to be very slasher filmy.
And dear lord…I was going to be buried beneath the gnomes.
A/N: So I'm a little unsure about this one – I'm approaching it completely differently than I did with When the Wind Blows – so things can only get better from here. It is a CollinxOC, so there's that, but also I'm trying hard to make this new original character different from Caroline, so for those of you who have read WTWB, lemme know if Quinn ever starts to channel too much Caroline!
Reviews/comments/questions/obscene remarks are always loved, welcomed, laughed at, or sometimes deleted, depending on what I get! Thanks guys! ~Fluff