QueenSusanofNarnia
New member
This is a story about the Smith children - three girls, one boy - who lost their father in World War III. America is left torn up and diminished to hardly anything, and so their mother sends them to live with family "friends" Mrs Jonas and Mr Weatherby, and their children Heather (15) and Julia (10).
Little do the Smith - Piper (15), Jack (15), Puck (17), and Summer (18) - children know, the Jonas-Weatherby estate is being under constant watch by the cunningly evil man with a heart of stone, Lord Drash, who has his mind set on destroying the Jonas-Weatherby estate.
***
Chapter One: My Story
When World War III ended, America was left just as war-torn as Europe had been after the first two. And that isn't suiting me, Piper Smith. My father died in WWIII.
Before I tell you anything else, let me explain what happened to start this war: the US dropped a nuclear bomb on Africa, for reasons I don't know.
Some other countries (Russia and Germany) freaked out and decided it was war. Dad was sent off to fight. Mom was devestated. We all were. When the war ended six months after it began, we were informed Dad was one of the 900,000 US soldiers killed. Then, after the funeral, Mom told us that we would be sent off to live with her "friends", Mrs Jonas and Mr Weatherby, and their children Heather and Julia.
So, that is where I am now. Me, my twin brother Jack, and my older sisters Puck, 18, and Summer, 19. The Jonas-Weatherby estate is in England. 1 Jonas-Weatherby Road, London, England. If you want to be precise. The Smith family are very precise people, if you care to notice.
We were all extremley upset with Mom. I mean, we've just buried our father and she's shipping us off to England to live with some people we never met? Sounds like something right out of the Chronicles. But I doubt that there's going to be talking lions and fauns in my future.
We - me, Jack, Sum, and Puck - sat down in Jack's room to discuss this before we left for the airport.
"I hate this," snapped Jack. He hates everything. Okay, so he doesn't hate everything. He hates anything that doesn't involve Redskins cheerleaders.
He has reddish-brown hair, blue eyes, and freckles scattered across his face. Not freckles like covering his face. Just...spread out. My friends could never come over to my house without asking where Jack was. And when they saw him being his lazy self, dressed in sweatpants hanging on at his knees (okay, not that low, but you could see his boxers)...well, imagine how you'd feel if you saw someone you'd been crushing on for seven gagillion years without a shirt everyday, then you'll know how they feel. It got old, though, after a bit. Once, as they opened their mouths, I said, "Jack's in the living room, if you want to see him."
Anyway, Puck (how come Jack and Summer got common names, but I got stuck with the Pied's name and Puck got stuck with a fairy's name?) tried to calm him by saying it would be alright, and everything would be okay, but he just grumbled and turned over. So I sat next to him, put my arms around his shoulders and gave him a big kiss on the cheek, just like I had done when I was four. He grinned and began to tickle my stomach, just as he had all those years back...it seemed...it seemed a lifetime ago. He pulled me onto his lap and pretened I was a little baby.
"You're such a good baby!" he said in a mocking manner. "Yes you are, yes you are!" I poked him in the eye, and he hit me over the head.
"Cut it out," said Summer.
"Shut up," Jack muttered. When Summer turned sixteen, she changed. Suddenly she had no time to be with us, her family. She was always with her friends at the mall, or with her boyfriend Max. And the next year when Puck turned sixteen, she changed too. In the same way. Jack and I were left on our own, and we became best friends.
I told him everything. We were never apart, except during classes (as twins, we couldn't be in the same class. School rule.) Since Mom had applied us to a private school in kindergarten, we had a small grade. We knew everyone - all 90 of them, yeah, it's massive, uh-huh... He knew everyone I knew. I knew everyone he knew.
Anyway, Jack hadn't really forgiven Summer and Puck for being snobs.
"Don't tell me to shut up," said Summer.
"Make me," growled Jack.
"Jack," I warned.
"Shhh!" Puck suddenly hushed us. We grew quiet and listened...we heared creaking floorboards outside the room and we knew Mom was outside. We heared her sigh, and knew she knew we didn't want her to hear us. She gave up and left.
"Listen, we have to go to the airport tomorrow," said Puck. "Why don't we all just sleep in here."
"No, I'm not having a bunch of girls sleep in my room!" Jack refused. "No way."
"Fine, we'll sleep in our room," I said. Jack and Mom were the only ones with their own room. Summer, Puck and I shared a room, with a bunk bed for me and Puck and a
futon for Summer. It was a small, small room.
"Okay," agreed Jack.
So us girls went back to our room, Jack got his only unpacked pajamas (of course, just sweatpants and boxers - boy oh boy would my friends like to be there) and came in after we had changed. Puck and Summer squeezed together on the futon, and Jack took Puck's top bunk. I had my bed.
After we had turned out the lights, Puck and Summer fell asleep. I thought Jack had too, but then I saw his feet coming down the ladder. I quickly closed my eyes and feigned sleep, and then peeked out one eye and saw him disappearing through the door. I pulled the covers off me and jumped out of bed. I pulled my Uggs on, grabbed my jacket off the door knob, and followed him out furtively.
I followed him to the garage, where he stopped. I went back quickly and hid behind the door. Then, he touched the wall, and pulled away the plastic covering a hole in the wall. That had been made three years ago, we thought, by a rock. Apparently we were wrong. He slipped out of the hole and into the night. Eyes wide at my brother's nighttime pleasures, I copied his actions.
When I was outside, I saw his pale figure sitting a little bit away.
We live not on a farm, but not in a big neighborhood. The next closest house to us is a hundred yards away. There is a little creek that runs behind our house, and that is where I saw Jack sneak to. I crept behind, and then, when I reached him, sat down.
"So," I said. "This is what you do every night."
He looked at me. I'm pretty sure he knew all along I was with him. "Yeah. But don't tell anyone."
"Cross my heart," I promised.
We were quiet for a minute, then I asked, "How are things with Miranda?"
Miranda Young was a girl in our grade that Jack had liked for a year.
"Not so good," he muttered. "How's Mark?"
"Oh, shut up about him, would you?" I begged and Jack sniggered. Mark Cueva was Jack's friend, who was totally gorgeous times a billion and twenty. "You know that all my friends are in love with you?"
"No, way!" he said in mock astonishment.
"Do you miss him?" I said suddenly. Stupidly, too. The word that began with "Da" and ended in "d" was a word that became taboo in our household.
Jack threw a terrible look at me. He hardly every got angry with me. "Don't you talk about that," he snarled.
"I'm sorry," I cried. "Jack, I'm sorry, it slipped out. I promise!"
He looked at me, then shook his head. "No, it's me that should be sorry, Pip. I just got...it just hurts talking about it. If that answers your question."
"Yeah," I muttered. "It does..."
We sat there, brother and sister, best friends.
"Love you, Pip."
"Love you, Jack.
Little do the Smith - Piper (15), Jack (15), Puck (17), and Summer (18) - children know, the Jonas-Weatherby estate is being under constant watch by the cunningly evil man with a heart of stone, Lord Drash, who has his mind set on destroying the Jonas-Weatherby estate.
***
Chapter One: My Story
When World War III ended, America was left just as war-torn as Europe had been after the first two. And that isn't suiting me, Piper Smith. My father died in WWIII.
Before I tell you anything else, let me explain what happened to start this war: the US dropped a nuclear bomb on Africa, for reasons I don't know.
Some other countries (Russia and Germany) freaked out and decided it was war. Dad was sent off to fight. Mom was devestated. We all were. When the war ended six months after it began, we were informed Dad was one of the 900,000 US soldiers killed. Then, after the funeral, Mom told us that we would be sent off to live with her "friends", Mrs Jonas and Mr Weatherby, and their children Heather and Julia.
So, that is where I am now. Me, my twin brother Jack, and my older sisters Puck, 18, and Summer, 19. The Jonas-Weatherby estate is in England. 1 Jonas-Weatherby Road, London, England. If you want to be precise. The Smith family are very precise people, if you care to notice.
We were all extremley upset with Mom. I mean, we've just buried our father and she's shipping us off to England to live with some people we never met? Sounds like something right out of the Chronicles. But I doubt that there's going to be talking lions and fauns in my future.
We - me, Jack, Sum, and Puck - sat down in Jack's room to discuss this before we left for the airport.
"I hate this," snapped Jack. He hates everything. Okay, so he doesn't hate everything. He hates anything that doesn't involve Redskins cheerleaders.
He has reddish-brown hair, blue eyes, and freckles scattered across his face. Not freckles like covering his face. Just...spread out. My friends could never come over to my house without asking where Jack was. And when they saw him being his lazy self, dressed in sweatpants hanging on at his knees (okay, not that low, but you could see his boxers)...well, imagine how you'd feel if you saw someone you'd been crushing on for seven gagillion years without a shirt everyday, then you'll know how they feel. It got old, though, after a bit. Once, as they opened their mouths, I said, "Jack's in the living room, if you want to see him."
Anyway, Puck (how come Jack and Summer got common names, but I got stuck with the Pied's name and Puck got stuck with a fairy's name?) tried to calm him by saying it would be alright, and everything would be okay, but he just grumbled and turned over. So I sat next to him, put my arms around his shoulders and gave him a big kiss on the cheek, just like I had done when I was four. He grinned and began to tickle my stomach, just as he had all those years back...it seemed...it seemed a lifetime ago. He pulled me onto his lap and pretened I was a little baby.
"You're such a good baby!" he said in a mocking manner. "Yes you are, yes you are!" I poked him in the eye, and he hit me over the head.
"Cut it out," said Summer.
"Shut up," Jack muttered. When Summer turned sixteen, she changed. Suddenly she had no time to be with us, her family. She was always with her friends at the mall, or with her boyfriend Max. And the next year when Puck turned sixteen, she changed too. In the same way. Jack and I were left on our own, and we became best friends.
I told him everything. We were never apart, except during classes (as twins, we couldn't be in the same class. School rule.) Since Mom had applied us to a private school in kindergarten, we had a small grade. We knew everyone - all 90 of them, yeah, it's massive, uh-huh... He knew everyone I knew. I knew everyone he knew.
Anyway, Jack hadn't really forgiven Summer and Puck for being snobs.
"Don't tell me to shut up," said Summer.
"Make me," growled Jack.
"Jack," I warned.
"Shhh!" Puck suddenly hushed us. We grew quiet and listened...we heared creaking floorboards outside the room and we knew Mom was outside. We heared her sigh, and knew she knew we didn't want her to hear us. She gave up and left.
"Listen, we have to go to the airport tomorrow," said Puck. "Why don't we all just sleep in here."
"No, I'm not having a bunch of girls sleep in my room!" Jack refused. "No way."
"Fine, we'll sleep in our room," I said. Jack and Mom were the only ones with their own room. Summer, Puck and I shared a room, with a bunk bed for me and Puck and a
futon for Summer. It was a small, small room.
"Okay," agreed Jack.
So us girls went back to our room, Jack got his only unpacked pajamas (of course, just sweatpants and boxers - boy oh boy would my friends like to be there) and came in after we had changed. Puck and Summer squeezed together on the futon, and Jack took Puck's top bunk. I had my bed.
After we had turned out the lights, Puck and Summer fell asleep. I thought Jack had too, but then I saw his feet coming down the ladder. I quickly closed my eyes and feigned sleep, and then peeked out one eye and saw him disappearing through the door. I pulled the covers off me and jumped out of bed. I pulled my Uggs on, grabbed my jacket off the door knob, and followed him out furtively.
I followed him to the garage, where he stopped. I went back quickly and hid behind the door. Then, he touched the wall, and pulled away the plastic covering a hole in the wall. That had been made three years ago, we thought, by a rock. Apparently we were wrong. He slipped out of the hole and into the night. Eyes wide at my brother's nighttime pleasures, I copied his actions.
When I was outside, I saw his pale figure sitting a little bit away.
We live not on a farm, but not in a big neighborhood. The next closest house to us is a hundred yards away. There is a little creek that runs behind our house, and that is where I saw Jack sneak to. I crept behind, and then, when I reached him, sat down.
"So," I said. "This is what you do every night."
He looked at me. I'm pretty sure he knew all along I was with him. "Yeah. But don't tell anyone."
"Cross my heart," I promised.
We were quiet for a minute, then I asked, "How are things with Miranda?"
Miranda Young was a girl in our grade that Jack had liked for a year.
"Not so good," he muttered. "How's Mark?"
"Oh, shut up about him, would you?" I begged and Jack sniggered. Mark Cueva was Jack's friend, who was totally gorgeous times a billion and twenty. "You know that all my friends are in love with you?"
"No, way!" he said in mock astonishment.
"Do you miss him?" I said suddenly. Stupidly, too. The word that began with "Da" and ended in "d" was a word that became taboo in our household.
Jack threw a terrible look at me. He hardly every got angry with me. "Don't you talk about that," he snarled.
"I'm sorry," I cried. "Jack, I'm sorry, it slipped out. I promise!"
He looked at me, then shook his head. "No, it's me that should be sorry, Pip. I just got...it just hurts talking about it. If that answers your question."
"Yeah," I muttered. "It does..."
We sat there, brother and sister, best friends.
"Love you, Pip."
"Love you, Jack.
Last edited: