SUM: The sleepy town of Siren Lake has a secret, of the supernatural sorts. The locals are nice, but suspicious and afraid of the lake. The mayor, Mr. Castellan and his family have been working to remove the lake and build a new and improved town. But the creepy mansion on the lake belongs to the Jackson's and they refuse to let the lake go. And new girl Annabeth finds herself in the crossfire.
Annabeth heaved a cardboard box into the empty, spacious room. The sharpie writing claimed the box was full of books, which would explain why it had been a serious pain to carry them up two flights of stairs. At least that was the last box.
The tired blonde maneuvered through the city of boxes and furniture over to the balcony where the silver sunlight peaked through the Washington clouds. The tall forest surrounded their new house. Annabeth wasn't thrilled about moving from San Francisco, but she couldn't deny the beauty of the northwest.
She grabbed her phone and jogged out of her new room and out of the house, calling a quick goodbye to her parents. Putting in her headphones the blonde began to jog down the gravel path that led to their house in the woods. They had passed a few other houses in the small town, but Annabeth was more curious about the town—more importantly where the library or bookstore was.
The town was sleepy but pleasant. There was both a library and a bookstore called Powell's, a cute little café and no Starbucks, a bait and tackle shop, a retro diner that looked like something out of Grease, a few clothing boutiques, a bakery, a sporting goods store, a movie theatre/pizza joint on the fringe of town, a candy and toy Shoppe, a grocery store, a record store, an apartment complex, an inn and a classy seafood restaurant. The schools, elementary, middle, and high school were at the base of the mountain along with the church, doctor's office, post office, and the mayor's office was where Annabeth's dad would be spending all his time.
She felt free in the small town, not crowded or claustrophobic like she had in the large city she once called home. Maybe this move would do her some good after all. A few of the locals turned to stare at the new girl with tanned California skin, but Annabeth brushed them off with a small smile.
She glanced up at the sign, smiled and pushed open the glass door. The little bell rang signally her arrival but the blonde boy at the counter didn't look up from his book. Annabeth relished in the warmth and book smell and headed over to the history section. Her grey eyes trailed over spines and titles and authors, books ranged from the Civil War to the Shang Dynasty to the Cherokee people of America to Grecian wars. A book caught her eye, it was on display with a chalkboard sign stating in bold, colorful letters:
SIREN LAKE'S VERY OWN MR. CHRISTOPHER BRUNNER'S BOOK ON GRECIAN AND ROMAN MYTHOLOGY.
The small town had its own accomplished author? It certainly gave Annabeth a pause before she picked up the leather bound book.
"He's a genius that man." A masculine voice said from behind her. Annabeth's eyes skimmed over the gold print before turning to look at the blonde boy. She arched a brow. "He has this way of telling mythology, almost like he was there and is simply recounting what he experienced. Truly makes you believe the Greek myths were real." He gave her a shy smile, one that Annabeth recognized as similar to her own; one that she socialized with bookworms and quiet, thoughtful people. She recuperated the grin.
"You tell me you don't believe in Zeus and Athena and Hercules?" She murmured teasingly, fondly tracing the title of the book with a nail-bitten finger. The boy chuckled softly.
"Can't say I do, I'm a man of science, really." Annabeth hmm-ed in response. There was a short pause. "I can't say I've ever seen you before, and believe me I think I'd have remembered you." Annabeth gave him a questioning look, as if to say: are you flirting with me?
The boy shrugged sheepishly, easily reading the nonverbal question. "You're cute and seem interested in Greek mythology. For a nerd like me—I'd definitely remember a girl like you." He winked. "But, more of a dead give away is the fact that this is small town that I've, we all have, grown up in. You're new and that Cali tan speaks for itself." Annabeth shrugged.
"Guilty. Yeah, I just moved here today, thought I'd scope out the town and get away from the craziness that is moving-in-day." She glanced at the sale sticker that had just caught her eye: Buy one of Brunner's books, get another one free! "Any other books I should check out, seeing as I don't want to pass up a free book." The boy nodded.
"And your first instinct was to come to the history section of a bookstore? Sounds like my kind of girl." He chuckled and Annabeth ducked her head in embarrassment. The boy coughed. "He's got a couple more, all on mythology and history. All are good, just depends on what you're looking for I guess." Suddenly he turned and stuck out his hand. "I'm Malcolm by the way." Annabeth grasped his hand firmly.
"Annabeth." The blonde, Malcolm, nodded before going back to the section of the shelf dedicated to the town-famous author.
"He's got stuff on Egyptian mythology, Norse, German fairytales, tales from the tribes of North America, African lore, and—ha! Here's one for you, Mr. Brunner's Guide to Folk Lore and Horror of Siren Lake. You're new here, you might want to brush up your history and mythology about this old town, because there's a lot of it." Malcolm handed her the thick book. "People 'round here are pretty superstitious, you might want to know what they're talking about." Annabeth nodded and flipped through the book.
"Are you the superstitious type, Malcolm?" The blonde in question snorted.
"Nah, like I said, I'm a man of science. The batty stories my grandma used to tell me are nothing more than batty stories." He shrugged anyways. "But to many in town, you might as well be holding the bible." Annabeth giggled. The two continued to talk for a little while, discussing books and mythology.
"Well, I don't know how much longer I can stall putting my room together, so I better be going." She told him regretfully, after glancing at the owl clock on the wall. He nodded and took both books from her and headed over to the cash register. He rang her up and she passed him a 10, getting 1.50 in change.
She smiled in goodbye and left the bookstore, heading on her way to her new home.
"New books?" Her father joked when she set them down on the kitchen counter. He placed his reading glasses on. "Greek and Roman mythology and—What's this? Siren Lake mythology? I didn't know such a thing existed."
Annabeth shrugged. "Neither did I, but it looked interesting… I've got to go and sent up my bed. Call me when dinner is ready." Her father nodded before busying himself with organizing the cabinet spices.
The blonde teenager tossed both books on to the mattress before getting to work on at least organizing her furniture. She moved her bed frame over to where the sunlight would stream in from the window and then dragged her mattress over. She then moved her small bedside table and set the books there so she could dress her bed. Once purple sheets and grey covers and yellow pillows were in place, she fondly set Athens the owl on her bed. She pulled over the box labeled as bedside and other little things and began to pull out things like her lamp and journals and pens, tucking said items away into the drawers. She reached in and pulled out a framed photo of her mother and herself at the Parthenon in Greece. She pulled out another photo of herself and her best friend from San Fran, Gwen and set it down too. Next came her clock and the little bobble-head owl her mother got her for Christmas 3 years ago.
She pulled out the string of lights and strung them around her window frame; glad that her dad had followed through and made little hooks so she could string said lights. She reached over and pulled them into the socket and flipped the switch, glad that the lights and the socket both worked. Turning it off, she got to work on lining the windowsill with little owls—to say she had a slight obsession would be an understatement.
Annabeth then got started on placing her desk where she wanted it—then filing it out with drawings of architecture and Grecian heroes and books about said heroes and various other office-space sorts of things. She hung up the tack board that was still decorated with photos and notes and plans. She quickly plugged in her laptop before moving onto her closet—
Only her father was calling for dinner.
Annabeth's dreams that night were weird. It started out with her standing on the edge of a lake, barefoot, toes in the sand and lake water lapping at her feet. The silver moon was full and was mirrored in the lake's reflection perfectly, all the stars and splendor included. The forest was tall and dark and ominous and fog danced along the edges of the water and wet forest floor, ghosting around Annabeth and the water.
But the weird part wasn't the perfect but ominous lake; it was the face staring at her from under the water's surface. Ink black hair, spidery eyelashes, high cheekbones and a splatter of freckles decorated the face. It was a boy's face, a teenager, a very beautiful teenager. His face was stoic, but his eyes were a light with playfulness and curiosity. His eyes were his best feature, how ever, even from under the water she could tell they looked like the scene in front of her. Ink green-blue with dark green edges and splashes of silver.
She wanted to call out to the beautiful teen, ask him why he was in the water, ask where were they; ask what he was—no human could stay in the water like that. But no words would come out, her dream self only stared into eyes so unworldly, she knew she wouldn't forget, even in the morning light.
Full, pink lips spread into a gentle, but wolfish crooked grin and a dimple appeared on his right cheek. She wondered if her dream self was blushing.
The fog began to swirl and become thicker, closing in on her and the lake. Quickly, she couldn't see the forest anymore and the moon and stars were clouded from sight. But the boy's eyes held fast and Annabeth couldn't find it in herself to worry about the creeping fog and even when Annabeth's whole body was swallowed in mist, green eyes kept her calm.
Annabeth had only this Sunday left before she began her first week at Goode High School and Annabeth couldn't say she was excited to go. Sure she was good at school, she wasn't worried about that. She was worried about how she was supposed to fit in—everyone grew up with each other, knew each other and she was the new girl—maybe even Goode's first new girl.
She had awoken surprisingly late for herself, being the early riser that she was, but relished in the thoughts of one final lazy Sunday. After this, Sunday's would be a time of schoolwork, church, and other mindless activities that came with school.
She laid around in bed, enjoying the warmth and glittering sunlight that danced over her bedspread. She started the Siren Lake mythology book, finding it quite fascinating and agreeing with the boy from the bookstore—the author had a magical way with words, to the point where Annabeth could question the falsity of the tales she was reading.
She treated herself to a lazy breakfast of cereal and apple juice and messed around on her computer. Messaging Gwen, blogging on tumblr, scanning the drama all over Facebook, and doing some other things of little importance.
Her schedule had come via email and her classes pleasantly surprised Annabeth.
Block 1: AP Euro. Mr. Lane. Room C-13.
Block 2: Chemistry. Ms. Miller. Science wing S-4.
Block 3: AP Latin 3. Mr. York. Room B-2.
Block 4: Physical Education: Track and Field. Mr. Seinfeld. Gym 2.
Block 5: Pre Calc. Mr. McLain. Room E-10.
Block 6: Architecture 101. Ms. Corey. Room A-1
Block 7: AP American Lit. Ms. Parks. Room B-9.
Block 8: Leadership. Room M-1
It sounded decent, fun even and she briefly remembered her father telling her about the excellent academics the school provided despite being from a small town and a public school.
The only eventful thing that had happened to Annabeth at afternoon was opening the door to find some disgruntled punk girl with streaks of blue in her pixie cut and nose ring with a plate of cookies. The girl had been exceptionally rude, thrusting the treats into Annabeth's hands and letting her know that her mother had forced her to come over and greet the new neighbors. The blonde had accepted the sweets, gave her a tight-lipped smile and closed the door.
However, maybe this would top some rude punk girl with cookies. Annabeth had gone exploring the forest behind her house and found an old hiking trail. The ivy had crawled over the path for the most part and Annabeth wouldn't have noticed the trail if it hadn't been for the wooden sign nailed to the tree by the sign reading:
SIREN LAKE: 2.3 MILES.
It seemed odd that the town that was named after said lake seemed to be ignoring its very existence. Deciding that maybe curiosity didn't always kill the cat, she made her way through the ivy, following the trail clumsily only to find that twenty feet in, another sign was nailed to a tree, this one a lot less friendly:
BEWARE. TURN BACK NOW.
Yes, surely, this was odder than any punk girl with a sharp tongue and a pierced face.
So shoot me, I started a new story. It's different than most of my old stuff, but I guess that's the point of starting over, right? My fanfiction account 2.0. It's fun to write and I'm interested to see how this goes. Who knows, this could be my new Kisses Like Summer Rain or even Whispering Secrets? Guess we'll have to wait and see huh?