Wicked Girls Don't Play Nicely

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic

When 14 year old Jezzebel Peterson moves into a small town in Biloxi, Mississippi, her whole life gets twisted upside down. Moving into a decades old house, enrolling into a new school, and having to put up with her pest of a sister, Miranda, is enough... But when Miranda starts spending time with a little girl named Edyn, who is said to live in the forests behind their new home, things go from bad... To worse. Miranda is hiding something... Something she doesn't want anyone, to know.

Chapter 1 (v.1)

Submitted: February 11, 2012

Reads: 201

Comments: 3

A A A | A A A

Submitted: February 11, 2012



l(1).jpgD R E A MS E Q U E N C E

"Run!" I yelled as we ran down the what it seemed like never-ending corridor. The slippery, crimson liquid on the floor made the effort difficult as we ran from our demise. The scent of rotting corpses and plasma filled my nostrils as I inhaled rappidly in short, ragged breaths. A girl continued to appear. In every corner. Every turn in the hallways, she was there, holding the same doll she held the first time I actually saw her. "Jacob move your butt, she is getting closer!" I squealed to my twelve year old brother, who was beginning to fatigue and slow his pace. She remains, she remains. I repeatedly sang over in my head. I turned my head to the left, and in an instant, we were surrounded by oak trees. The atmosphere was still... so still that it began to feel eerie. I put my hands on my knees in attempt to catch my breath. "J-Jacob?" I called. "Miranda?" No answer. Something was not right. The air then held the scent of the corpses, that I'd smelled earlier in the building. As I stepped back, my foot stumbled onto something. I turned around and met my eyes to the pile of brutally murdered bodies of my loved ones. I shrieked in horror, as she stepped closer.

And scarlet toned blood was the last view of my sights.

I shot up from my bed and breathed heavily. This was the third time I had had this dream in the past month. I wiped the persperation off of my forhead and kicked the covers away. I squinted my eyes as few rays of diminishing sunlight penetrated my bedroom window. As my feet hit the floor, the aroma of freshly cooked pancakes and syrup filled my nose...which also reminded me of the revolting scent of the blood in my vivid nightmare.

"Jezz, I made pancakes, time to eat!" My mom yelled.

"Just a second!" I replied as I began rummaging through my drawers, looking for something in particular.

I shoved my hand into the box and came across the picture. I pulled it out and let my eyes focus in on the very detail of the photograph; my father. The photo had been taken one week before he mysteriously disappeared off of the face of the earth. No one could find the body, so he was presumed dead.

I kissed the old paper and shoved it into my pocket. I combed out my chestnut colored hair and quickly got ready for the day. Darting into the kitchen, I stopped by Jacob and took a pancake off of his plate and bit into in hungrily.

"Hey!" He whined.

"Oh just suck it up thumb-sucker."

"Hey, enough you two." Said my mom.

I walked liesurely over to the cupboard and took out a paper plate. At that time, Miranda had already walked into the room. She walked in stealth over to me and snatched the plate out of my hand, kicking me in the shin as she ran off. You see, she was not my blood sister, she and her dad moved in a year ago, when my mom and Brad decided to get married. I was not fond of the idea. No one could replace my dad. No one.

"Ow! Daddy! Jezzebel kicked me!" She screamed as she pretended to flinch.

"What? No I didn't." I said as I tried to calm myself from the anger raging inside of me.

"Yes you did you big ugly lier! That's what you are stupid Jezzebel, a lier!"

"Come here, angel." Brad said.

I looked at Jacob, and he shrugged his shoulders, shaking his head as he crammed the pancake into his mouth. I was getting fed up with that little brat. It seemed like everyday was a constant competition. Other times I would just think she was just plain spiteful, but I wasn't allowed to talk of any foolishness like that, because Brad doesn't want his precious sweet heart to learn any habits like that, though she cusses like a sailor and she is only nine years old.

"Jezzebel, don't ever put your hands on her... Ever again, do you understand?"


I got another plate, and sat down at the table, the farthest away from her. I watched as she poured a giant mound of syrup onto her one pancake."What are you looking at, jerk?" She said.

"Your going to get fat, eating all that sugar." I told her with a smart look plastered to my face.

"Well, at least I'm not a lying, ugly hoe." She said, whispering the last word. Again with the cussing.

"Alright kiddo's... We have some important news to tell you." Said Brad. "As you all may know, I got the job I was looking for over in Mississippi...So... We are moving!"

I looked at him in shock, my fork falling onto my plate. "What? No! I've lived here my entire life, and just when you show up-" Miranda cut me off. "Be quiet Jezzebel, I don't care if you had a different life before us. We are moving, and that's final!" She said.

"Are you guys gonna let her talk to me like this?" Iasked.

Brad looked at me with a glum look in his eyes, while my mom just stared into her mug of black coffee. "Go to your room, Jezzebel." He said as he got up and put his plate in the sink.

"That's so unfair! She start-"

"NOW." He yelled.

"Oh whatever. I hate this stupid blended family anyway. I said as I stormed into my room. My mind filled with hatred and rage towards her. I balled my fists snd held in a scream. If it wasn't for Miranda and her mouth, I wouldn't be in this stupid pardicament. Why did my mom re-marry anyway? Did she even know who she was marrying before she made it official? And to think she just stood there while I had to suffer...

The day passed on at an excrutiattingly slow pace. I sat in my room listening to the muted "tick" that went off every second by my alarm clock.

Tick, tock, tick, tock.

Something had to change.

Tick, tock, tick, tock.

Jacob and I shouldn't have to be tortured by this little brat.

Tick, tock, tick, tock.

I shook my head and slung the clock across the room. It was about eight o' clock and supper was sizzling on the stove. I watched the cieling fang oscillate for a bit, then rolled out of bed, finding myself walking down the hall, to Mirandas room. I stopped at her door, no telling what she was doing in their. I wrapped my fingers around the silver tainted door knob, but hesitated. I hated that I always felt...unsafe...around this certain 9-year old girl. Threatened. Scared. Paranoid.

I jumped back as the door opened from the other side, and her emerald green eyes glared at me with hatred. "Watch were your going, ugly." She said as she ran into the kitchen. I watched her leave, making sure she didn't see me going into her room. I walked in, my eyes looking upon every detail. The walls were bright baby blue, and her princess bed sat in the very middle. I stumbled over a little toy table, which was occupied by two little dolls. Everything seemed normal to find in a little girls bedroom... Until I noticed the other dolls.

I picked up one and was sickened as I looked at its pathetic condition. Its eyes were scratched out with a black ink pen, and several gashes were in its body. Its clothes were soaked in what seemed to be red food coloring, and a chunk of the plastic on its head was torn off completely. I ran the chestnut colored hair through my fingers. Wait.

This doll looks a lot like me.

E n d O f C h a p t e r O n e

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