Arabelle- by Super Duper Donut, Chp. 3-5, Fantasy

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Arabelle- by Super Duper Donut, Chp. 3-5, Fantasy

Post  Super Duper Donut on Tue Mar 13, 2012 2:24 am

Chapter 3: Lionette’s Evil POV

Watching the sixteen year old collapse to the ground was a dream come true for Lionette. Arabelle was the ultimate piece to her ‘collection’. Her collection of special kids anyway. She had mind-readers and controllers, shape-shifters, telekentics, extra flexible, super strength and many others but one that can withstand and produce heat greater than the sun? A once in a lifetime opportunity.

“She’s knocked out. Bring the car around,” Lionette said into her earpiece hidden by her hair.

“Coming.” The fiendish amber eyed woman smiled triumphantly down to the passed out person.

“Not so hot now?” she said, totally aware of the teenage boy standing next to her. He looked guiltily at his shoes. “What is your problem?” she asked.

“I don’t like this,” he said. “It’s like we’re trafficking people.” Lionette chuckled and patted the boy’s shoulder.

“It’s not trafficking if her mom signed her over to me.” The boy looked disturbed.

“Did my parents sign me over?” he asked.

“No, I stole from the maternity ward and got a clean getaway,” Lionette said sarcastically. The boy gave a sad look towards Lionette then looked at the snowy ground. Lionette didn’t feel the least bit sorry that she had just crushed a child’s spirit.



Chapter 4: Have You Ever Been Hit By a Porcupine?

“Uuuugggghhhhh,” I groaned as soon as I gained consciousness. My head was hurting so much it wasn’t funny. And my feet were sore from the Shoes of Torture. I turned in bed and peered up at the camera that followed my every movement. I shut my eyes and lied motionless for a few minutes. My eyes snapped open when I rewound my thoughts to ‘camera that followed my every movement’. I sat up aware my head was throbbing. Where was I? Instead of my room decorated with posters and paintings I made, I was in a very bright white one.

“Arabelle, glad to see your up,” Lionette’s voice came out of nowhere. I groaned fell back onto the bed.

“If you can hear me Lionette, I just want you to know I hate you,” I said burying my face in a pillow. “I hate you. I hate you. I hate you! I HATE YOU!”

“I know I seem like the bad guy now but soon you’ll learn to love it here.”

“I want to go home! This is kidnapping!” I protested.

“It’s not kidnapping when your legal guardian signed your protection over to me. Now-”

“She gave me away on my birthday again,” I whispered more or less to myself.

“Did you say something?” Lionette asked.

“Yeah, if you don’t let me out, I’ll burn down the joint and make sure you go with it.”

“How stupid do you think I am? Really? Your room is flame retardant and so is the rest of the building. Besides, we have children no older than three here. Do you really want to hurt them?” I sighed. “There are a change of clothes. But I don’t know if I would change. Your dress is beautiful.”

“You can’t make me leave,” I said sounding like a five year old because that’s the mature person I am.

“I can understand you’re a little upset, but you can’t stay in there forever. Eventually you’ll get hungry and-”

“I’m not leaving.” Lionette sighed but I didn’t hear from her until much later on that day.

. . .

Don’t cave in, I told myself. Don’t do it. My stomach growled so loud it hurt. I groaned and doubled over. I hadn’t had anything to eat since my birthday party and that was about five pieces of sushi. Right then, I could’ve eaten five cows. My stomach growled again. I couldn’t have done this for much more. Earlier that day I tried melting the walls, kicking down the door, starting a fire in the room (it was flame retardant), and screaming until they thought I was in an insane asylum. It did me no good. I got tired, cracked my foot to pieces, made myself even more tired, and got I have a sore throat. I don’t mean to be a big whiny baby but life was kicking me in the face.

“Is anyone listening?” I asked randomly. No response. “I’m hungry.”

“Are you ready to talk?” Lionette’s voice came out of nowhere again. I tapped my chin.

“Well, it would be nice to get some dinner, take a shower, and, oh, I don’t know . . . let me out of this room!”

A little slot I hadn’t noticed before opened near the bottom of the door and a tray containing a New York Strip steak with hot steamy mashed potatoes and a Coke. That wasn’t the dinner I was expecting. I stared at the steak longingly. My stomach growled again.

“How do I know my dinner doesn’t have sedatives or poison?” I asked.

“I promise it’s perfectly fine,” Lionette said. “There’s nothing wrong with it or the mashed potatoes. Coke included.” I edged towards the delicious smelling food. My mouth started watering. What if Lionette’s telling the truth? I gingerly picked up the fork and stabbed the steak not bothering to cut it. When you were as hungry as I was, you didn’t necessarily think about manners.

“Go ahead and take a bite,” Lionette urged. I did and dug in. My New York Strip was so perfect. It wasn’t chewy but wasn’t too tender. The fat was trimmed off. But the best part was it actually didn’t have any drugs hidden off somewhere. The mashed potatoes had a garlic seasoning and a pinch of salt. I literally almost inhaled the soda up my nose.

“What about my request for a shower? I don’t see a bathroom,” I said not proud of me giving in to my stomach. As if it were magic, a door on the opposite wall of my bed opened.

“There’s a shower with hot and cold running water. Sink, towels, toothbrush, and toilet included,” Lionette said. Where was that bathroom when I had to go earlier? “Don’t forget your change of clothes. It still might be a little more comfortable than your dress but it’s entirely up to you.”
I glared at the door like Lionette’s smooth voice was coming out of there (it came from all over the room) and it was her fault that I was locked up in solitary confinement. Wait a minute, it was her fault. Note sarcasm.

Grabbing the change of clothes wrapped in a brown bag, I scowled at the camera and flipped it off before locking myself in the bathroom. Had I ever mentioned that I’m great at making sour faces? Had nine years of practice. I quickly stripped and soon felt the jets of the shower head spray warm water on my head. There was a bar of soap that was heavily scented of vanilla. What if the soap was poisonous? Can poison seep through your skin and kill you? Could I have gotten anymore paranoid? I sucked it up and started lathering my skin with it. I was going to reek of warm sugary vanilla for the rest of my life. But the weird thing is that I have warm sugary vanilla scented soap at the mansion. It wasn’t as strong as this but smelled the same. And just wait, it gets weirder: Lionette had purchased the exact same kind of shampoo and conditioner I bought. Coincidence? I think not.

By the time I stepped out, the mirror above my marble basin sink had gotten all foggy. I wrapped a towel around myself and wiped it clear. Red lipstick was smeared across my face and little bits of my mascara left smears on my cheeks. The gold blush was gone. Soon all the makeup was gone as I looked normal. As normal as I could get anyways. A blue plastic brush lay next to my toothbrush and toothpaste. I brushed my hair, brushed my teeth and finished with mint mouth wash. This bathroom had everything!

I looked at my sweet sixteen dress and the brown package Lionette said had some clothes. What if it was a bomb that was pressure sensitive? Then it would have exploded when I first touched it. Besides, if Lionette wanted to kill me she would have done so by injecting something dangerously radioactive or poisonous in the needle rather than a harmless sleeping sedative. Which brought another thing to mind: if Hayden had sent me with Lionette so I could get ‘cured’ why wasn’t I on an operation table in a paper hospital gown screaming and suffering because they decided to dissect me? I was in my own personal room bored out of my mind. Little fishy if you ask me. Well, creating a secret organization to keep kids from living normal lives because they’re a little irregular was fishy but I was only stating the obvious there.

I unwrapped the brown paper bag. It was clothes just as Lionette had promised. In fact it was my favorite outfit. My Green Day shirt, black jeans, white and green checkered flip-flops and my lucky black leather jacket. Seriously, WTF was up with this? It was getting creepy.

“Had a nice shower?” Lionette’s voice asked. “I hope you like your clothes.”

“It’s very creepy that you know what I like to wear,” I told her sitting down on my bed. “And your soap is way too strong. I’m going to smell like this in the afterlife.”

“So sorry,” Lionette said. I couldn’t tell if she was being sarcastic or not.

“This room needs some entertainment. A TV and a Wii would be fabulous. I mean you should have known I love my laptop and use it every day, right?” Now I was just messing with her.

“We have entertainment here at the SCW facility. But your mother told me you weren’t very social with other people.”

“Maybe I’ll like these ones. After all, they were betrayed by their parents too.” I ended up sounding more bitter and angrier then I meant too. Hey, I’m a grudge holder.

“Are you willing to play nice for a couple hours?” Lionette asked.

“If it means I’ll get out of the Looney Bin, alright,” I said. And just like that, the door opened and Lionette was standing there with two very large bald men.

“Perfect. Right this way.”

Lionette ended up cuffing my hands behind my back and the two bald men stood on either side of me while Lionette led the way. She was talking about me interacting with the other ‘special’ kids. I got lost in my own thoughts as I looked around the very bright and white hallway. We started getting squished as it got narrower.

“This is our room,” Lionette said pointing to the door at the end of the hall. She waved off the two guards. I had to flatten myself against the wall to keep from becoming human road kill.

“Why is the hall so small?” I asked.

“Safety reasons,” Lionette said pulling a ring of keys out of her jeans pocket. Even though she was only wearing jeans and a red camisole, Lionette still looked like a super model. Lionette found the right key to the door and unlocked it.

Now, I was expecting maybe ten, twenty kids tops but the entertainment room was much more crowded than I expected. There must have been fifty kids at the most ranging from four to eighteen. None of them seemed to acknowledge that Lionette had entered the room. I don’t blame them. There was almost every single gaming system imaginable. Xbox, Xbox 360, Wii, Atari, Game Boys, DS, DSi and much more. Aside from video games there was a mini library in the far left corner of the room. It was next to the gaming corner. The one behind the library had almost every gambling game known to man. Craps, roulette, three card Monte, poker, Texas Hold ’em and many others. I even saw three thirteen year olds glued to three different slot machines. They put in fake money hoping to get a jackpot that would never come.

“Isn’t this much better than your room?” Lionette asked unlocking my handcuffs. I instinctively rubbed my wrists. “When you cooperate, you’re sent here and get to have fun. A fair trade, yes?”

“No,” I said in a ‘duh’ voice. “A fair trade is letting us out so we don’t fry our brains on stupid games. And what happens when we read all the books in the little library over there? We get bored and eventually start causing trouble.”

“We get new books in every week,” Lionette informed me.

“What if we beat all the video games? We need exercise too you know. None of us want to gain sixty pounds from your steak,” I argued trying to find a flaw in her fun room.

“There are different sets of Wii Fits and we have a gym.”

“But how many times do we kids ask to go to the gym? That’s why we’re forced to go to P.E. in school. And are you going to teach us? I don’t want to have an eleventh grade education for the rest my life. What about college? What if you cure us and we don’t a degree? How will we pay for our own houses when we can’t get a decent job because our parents decided to send us to prison?”

“You’re required to go to the gym for physical education at least an hour once a week. You choose whether or not you want to be tutored. That depends on how well our . . . treatment works. And this isn’t a prison. It’s just a very heavily guarded institution for sick or special children. That depends on the universities itself,” Lionette spoke calmly. Dang, she got that all in order.

“For the last time, I’m not sick!” I shouted at her. Almost every pair of eyes turned to me. “I’m not a special needs child, I don’t have an incurable disease, and I know as sure as heck that I am not sick!” So maybe I was a little irritated from people that keeping telling me I’m sick. Sue me.

“You’re making a fool of yourself,” Lionette said. “You can calm down now or go back to your room.” Is it just me or does she sound like a mother trying to ground me?

“Thank you for being concerned mommy, but I can take care of myself,” I said. A few snickers went around the room. I’m sure most of these kids don’t stand really stand up to Lionette. A: She had this intimidating feel about her. B: She was so pretty, you almost couldn’t say no to her. Hayden was the same way. I could handle her.

“Have fun,” Lionette snarled, well, lion like and locked the door again. If there hadn’t been little kids in the room, I would have flipped off the door and said some very nasty words. Couldn’t stop me from thinking them though. I walked away dignified (I was a proud person) and settled in the library. Soon everything resumed to the way it was before I entered. Shooting and explosive sounds came from the TVs. I heard cheers and groans of misery as there were winners and losers in the gambling section. The last section was just a table in which only three people were sitting at. They all sat leaning in their seats, whispering stuff to each other.

I scanned the shelves looking for something good. Nothing like a good book to take your mind off of being shipped off by your evil uncaring mother because she thinks your imperfect, eh?

“Hi.” I peered up from the shelf. A girl maybe twelve or thirteen stood over me. She had short brown hair tied up in cutesy pigtails. Her icy blue eyes held innocence. Thin black rimmed glasses were perched on the tip of her button nose.

“Hi,” I answered. The little girl seemed nice enough. She smiled kindly at me.

“You know, it’s been a while since someone’s talked back to Lionette. It’s always refreshing to see a rebel,” she said. I gave her confused look. The girl dropped her smile and explained hurriedly. “I mean, no one’s really brave enough to stand up to her. She’ll have us punished and we can’t come to the entertainment room. Rumors are flying around that people are going insane because they’ve been locked in their room for so long.”

“No one can blame them,” I murmured somewhat to myself.

“I’m Miranda,” the girl said picking her smile up again.

“Arabelle,” I said. Miranda sat cross legged across from me.

“Can I see your hands?” she asked. Not a question I was expecting bur I held my palms out for her. Miranda examined the for a minute then placed her hands on top of mine. She closed her eyes and stayed like that for awhile.

“Uh, what are you doing?” I asked.

“Shhh,” Miranda shushed me keeping her eyes closed.
She’s gone insane too, I though sadly. The poor girl had so much to live for. Miranda opened her eyes giving me a happy grin.

“Congratulations, I’m happy to say you’re a very beautiful person spiritually. You’re heart is big and bright like the sun but you’re still sad. Consider cheering up. It would make your life better. Oh, and your aura is a really pretty color of sunset.

“It means that you’re ready to take in whatever your loved ones are ready to tell you. But forgive and forget is definitely not your motto. Forgiving what people have done in the past will help you in the future as well as forgetting. Don’t let accidents burden you for the rest of your life. No use crying over spilt milk as they say.” Miranda spoke so fast I almost couldn’t keep up. Almost. How did she know about the accident? How can I not let it go?

“How did you . . . ?”

“I’m so sorry,” Miranda apologized frantically. “It’s just your energy is really strong and I could feel it from the other side of the room and-”

“My energy?” I asked.

“Er, yeah. This is going to sound kind of weird but I can feel other peoples’ emotions. Right now, I could tell you how everyone in the room is feeling. For instance, you feel pretty mad at Hayden, whoever she is, and Lionette because they sent you here. And do you see those three over there?” Miranda pointed to the three people sitting at the round table in the empty corner.

“You can feel what they’re feeling?” I asked. Miranda nodded.

“That little girl in the purple dress? She’s feeling frustrated because she’s trying to find away to escape. Her name’s Xenia by the way.”

Xenia could have been a really adorable eight year old if she didn’t have this serious face. It was too serious for a second grader. She had dark copper colored hair. It was all curly and frizzy but looked pretty when it curled around her shoulders. Xenia’s eyes were really dark brown, almost black. Her skin was a cocoa color. Like Miranda had said, she was wearing an oversized purple dress that looked like the one Kiki owned from Kiki’s Delivery Service.

“She’s a kid genius. I mean she’s literally smarter than Einstein and Newton combined. Even smarter than Steven Hawking. Like fifty times smarter than that. Before they brought her here, she was accepted at Harvard, Brown, Pitt University and a ton of other ones. Her GPA is a 4.0.”

“Wow,” I said admiringly. Not even in the double-digits and she’s already accepted to some of the toughest colleges.

“Do you see the blonde girl sitting next to Xenia? Her name’s Hilary. She feels bored of Xenia’s strategy talk about escaping. The only reason she came is because . . .”

“Because what?” I asked. Maybe Miranda could give me the down low on everyone here.

“Never mind. Anyway, Hilary’s telepathic. She could talk to anyone telepathic. Even though she’s never done it, Hilary can drive people insane. She’s nice for the most part. Try not to get on her bad side. That’s like spilling salt or breaking a mirror. Just don’t do it.”

Hilary did seem to have a bored facial expression. She had long dirty blonde hair and same colored eyes as Miranda except hers didn’t feign innocence. They had a burning angry fire of hatred. Something tells me she wasn’t a happy child. Once again, if she just smiled like Xenia they would both look so much happier.

“And last is Drew. He’s the one with his back to us. I almost can’t pick up an emotion from him. It feels like he’s sad. Like so-depressed-I-might-just-need-therapy-for-the-rest-of-my-life kind of sad.”

“Oh, my God,” I said. “Shouldn’t you say something?” Does being here so long make you feel that way?

“Nah, Drew always feels gloomy. He doesn’t do anything. But being around him depresses me so I distance myself from him. Anyway, if you want the 411 on him, he can move objects without touching them. What’s the word I’m thinking of?” Miranda paused and tapped her chin looking thoughtfully at the white ceiling. Was everything white in this building?

“Telekinesis?” I suggested. Miranda snapped like ‘Eureka!’

“Yeah. Other than his dark personality, Drew’s nice,” she said.
Drew had pure black hair and porcelain pale skin. He had all dark clothes: black and grey striped jacket, black shirt, jeans and sneakers. I couldn’t see his face because as Miranda had said, he wasn’t facing us.

“I’m guessing his favorite color is-”

“Black?” Miranda asked. “Yeah, I figured that too.”

Hilary the malicious looking blonde glanced at us, glared, and whispered something to Drew and Xenia. Xenia shrugged making her copper curls bounce. Drew turned around in his chair and took a look at Miranda and moi. His eyes were a grayish blue color. He didn’t look mean or serious like the two other girls he hung out with. Drew looked . . . I don’t know, like this was a normal day that every other kid had to go through with. A little weird. But then again there were about fifty or more kids in this room including me so I’m in no position to judge him.

Miranda cocked her head to the side and gave a sideways look at Hilary. Xenia was still talking about something unaware neither one of her friends were listening. Drew kept his eyes intently on me. I frowned at him. Eventually that frown turned into a glare. Why was he staring at me? I mean, there were about forty-nine other freaks in here and he chooses to stare at me. Geez, the nerve of that guy.

“Is Drew staring at you?” Miranda whispered in my ear.

“Yeah and he’s making me feel really uncomfortable,” I pouted. Miranda giggled.

“Are you really going to throw a temper tantrum because someone was staring at you?”

“Yes.”

“How old are you again?”

“Five.” Miranda giggled again. She sounded like a happy little girl when she did. Rather than a teen trapped. I’m sorry, how many times have I pointed that out?

“How old are you, really?” Miranda asked.

“Just turned sixteen,” I said. “Lionette actually took me away from the party maybe hours ago.” Miranda’s eyes widened.

“Gosh, that must stink. You just had your sweet sixteen and now you here.” I shrugged.

“I am pretty mad but I get my anger out one or another. Right now, it’s flipping everything off.”

“Did you flip off the camera in your room? You know, if you have a camera in your room,” Miranda asked.

“Oh you know it,” I said. Miranda laughed and buried her face in her hands.

“And you didn’t get in trouble?” she asked.

“No. Why? Can you get in trouble?”

“Yeah. We get punished often because of rebellious acts. Such as flipping your guards off in the camera. Or talking back to any of them.”

“What happens if you talk back?” I asked. Miranda shrugged.

“It depends on the guard,” she explained. “I was popped in the mouth a couple times.” That reminded me of Hayden slapping me. I rubbed my cheek. “Yeah, your cheek is slightly swollen. What happened?”

“I was slapped,” I said.

“Did Lionette do it?” Miranda asked.

“No. Hayden did.” I felt a giant wave of anger and bitterness when I said her name. My palms heated up and I felt my entire body temperature rise. Miranda clutched her chest as if it hurt and blinked at me in surprise.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt someone who’s been so . . . angry. Are you feeling alright?”

“Sorry,” I muttered apologetically. “It’s just, Hayden sent me here and I have a thing for grudge holding.”

“Who is Hayden exactly?” Miranda asked. Like I was going to say Hayden was my mom.

“Uh, she’s my, uh, mother’s sister’s friend’s cousin?” It sounded more like a question than an answer.

“Where’s your mother than?” I gave a long, sad pretend sigh.

“Gone.” I wished.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for even bringing it up,” Miranda apologized.

“No it’s fine, really.” I decided Miranda was a nice person and that I should stick with her. “So,” I said trying to change the subject, “how long do we stay in this room?”

Miranda peered at a clock on the wall behind us. “It’s about seven thirty. We have to go back our rooms around nine. Sometimes it depends on our age. Around now is when the three through six year olds go back to their rooms.” As if Miranda was trying to prove her point, the doors opened and more burly guards than I could count stood stretching out of the room and down the narrow hallway.

“Do they really need that many guards?” I asked.

“You’d be surprise,” Miranda said. Once again, just to prove her point a kid maybe about five scowled at the guards.

“I’m not even tired!” he told them. Everyone seemed to do a duck and cover.

“You might want to get down,” Miranda told me. She had squeezed behind the bookshelf.

“Why?”

“NOOO!!!!!! YOU CAN’T MAKE ME GO TO BED!!!!!!” the five year old screamed when one of the guards had grabbed his arm. He grew brown and white spikes on his arms and legs. Oh, and don’t forget the short ones on his face that looked like a lethal beard. His needles started shooting all directions. The kid was too angry to even make an attempt to shoot the guards. I lied down as flat as I could on the floor and covered my face with my arms and hands. A sharp pain in my left arm shot up to my shoulders and soon to the rest of my body. Stupid spiky kid.

I didn’t look up (taking a peek wasn’t worth the risk) but I heard the kid screaming and eventually it went dead silent. Did they kill him? No, they probably sedated him and dragged him out. I waited about two minutes before looking up. My eyes grew as big as saucers. I was surrounded by the spikes the kid had been shooting everywhere. They were long and thin looking like a porcupine’s. Oh, he was part porcupine. Well, no wander he ended up here.

I frowned at myself for thinking that. I burned down a building and took a human being with it. What if someone thought the exact same thing I had except about me?

“There’s one in your arm!” Miranda pointed at the large brown quill in my arm. I tried moving it. Put a heavy an emphasis on ow.

“Why does it burn? Is that normal?” I asked. Miranda shrugged.

“Never been hit. That’s Spiky by the way.”

“I figured.” I winced when I tried moving my arm again. Lionette entered the room looking gorgeous but extremely ticked. She glanced around the room and shook her head like, Not again. By the detail of everyone getting ready for duck-and-cover when Spiky had to leave, I would say the whole quill thing happened often.

“Everyone who is injured, please follow me to the infirmary to remove all quills,” Lionette said. Yay, a trip to the hospital.
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