Chapter 1 - Chapter 1
Submitted April 29, 2009 Updated April 30, 2009 Status Incomplete | A very Irish girl moves to america, meets a very american boy, hates him starts a band with her new friends and tries to get her step-dad kicked out.
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Chapter 1 - Chapter 1
Chapter 1 - Chapter 1
Morrigan St Clare did not like change.
Her needs were simple. She required consistency and normalcy to function properly, and she had a pretty much, normal life.
She lived with her mother Maeve, with whom she had a stable relationship and her step-father Lucien who she disliked and made her best effort to stay away from him. She got along with her older sister Ally and her little sister Keeley and was best friends with her twin brother Ciaran.
She liked playing her guitar, she liked gymnastics, she liked running and she liked gardening.
She liked her house in Ireland, she liked the farm next to her house and she liked the vegetable patches outside her house. She liked her cat Salem, her puppy Coco and her pony Midnight.
Her life, with the exception of the breakup of her parents a few months ago, was as close to perfection as she could ever hope for.
Until one day her happy little world was rocked to its foundations.
“Sweetheart, we’ve got a surprise for you!” her mother had said brightly with Lucien standing behind her grinning like an idiot. Morgan instantly put her guard up. “Was she pregnant?” Morgan had thought, “She had been looking a little peaky for the past few weeks and although she didn’t want a baby brother or sister, it would be good for Keeley, who was getting spoiled.”
“Are you pregnant?” Morgan asked.
Lucien spluttered, his glasses fogging up and his face going pink. “Not much of a surprise then.” He muttered. Maeve was undeterred. “Yes and, well, since Lucien is American,” She broke off to give Lucien a loving smile which Lucien returned with a pathetic grin like a love sick puppy. “We thought that we would get in touch with his or her roots.” Morgan’s mom finished.
There was a sinking feeling in Morgan’s stomach but she ignored it and said cheerfully “Well you two, or should I say three, have fun!” Lucien laughed and said in a dopey voice, “Ha, ha! You’re such a kidder Morgan! You’re coming with us!”
Then Morgan, whose life had just taken an abrupt turn for, the worse, blacked out.
*
When Morgan woke up she was in her pyjamas.
“It was just a dream,” she told herself soothingly. “A horrible, horrible dream. I really don’t have to leave my perfect life.”
Just then, her brother Ciaran strolled into the room. He was always a comforting presence and with his tall, lean build, amber eyes and dyed black hair, he was the hottest boy she had ever seen, so much so that the fact that he was her brother was the only thing that stopped her from jumping him some days and at times even that was not good enough.
“So twin sister,” he began plonking himself in a chair, “are you going to pack, or must I do it for you?”
The sinking feeling returned to Morgan’s stomach with a vengeance. “Pack?” she asked nervously, “pack for where?”Ciaran swivelled round in his chair and said incredulously, “Come on Regan, don’t be silly! We’re going to the States!”
Morgan’s face slowly went pale.
In a second she was out of her bed, striding into her mother’s room.
Her sister Ally was there and seemed to be in deep discussion with Maeve.
“Mother, I will not go to America with you!” Morgan said quietly, but her voice carried around the room threateningly.
“What are you talking about?” Maeve yelped. “Of course you’re coming.” Morgan shook her head solemnly “I’m going to go and stay with dad.”
Now it was Maeve’s turn to faint.
As she hit the ground Lucien ran in from the bathrobe in a turquoise terrycloth dressing gown and a bright pink shower cap. There was blond chest hair curling out from the gown.
Morgan felt like throwing up.
“You go to your room and pack young lady!” Lucien screamed.
Morgan faced him off.
“Make me, Curly.” Morgan said, pointing at the offending hair.
Lucien went crimson.
“Why should I have to go? I can go and stay with dad!” Morgan complained to her mother.
Lucien cleared his throat.
“I said my dad, not some chick with a dick and a bad case of chest hair.” Morgan said slowly, like she was talking to someone who was not completely there.
Maeve gasped.
“Don’t you talk to him like that!” she screamed, from Lucien’s arms.
Morgan sneered, “I bet the kids teased him rotten! I bet they beat up his wimpy butt. I know I would have if I had had the chance. Lord knows I still want to.”
“I’m not having this discussion. You are coming with us whether you like it or not.” Lucien said as firmly as he could, which (surprise, surprise), was not very firmly at all.
Despite Lucien’s lack of firmness, nothing could sway them. She did everything short of begging, but it was to no avail.
Finally she decided to boycott everyone excluding her pets.
The real blow came one day when she was grooming Midnight. “Come on sweetheart, I know we’ll hate America together, you and me.” She crooned softly to her.
Her mother came in supporting her growing belly, and said sympathetically, “Are you saying good bye sweetheart?”
Morgan whipped round, the boycott forgotten.
“What do you mean SAYING GOODBYE?” she all but screamed.
Her mother cowered, realizing that she had inadvertently let the cat out of the bag. “Well sweetheart, we’re moving to a suburb and… well… you can’t exactly ride your horse to school…” Maeve broke off.
At the best of times, Morgan loomed slightly over her mother, but just then, she towered over Maeve, stretching past her 5’11 height.
“I—I—I...” she began, her voice becoming shrill.
Then she stopped and said in a low voice. “I hate you. I hate you so much.”
And with that she threw the curry comb into a bucket and strode out.
*
For two weeks Morgan did not speak a word. Instead of the heated looks that usually accompanied her silences there were just unnerving blank stares. Not a single word did she say to her family and Lucien.
Two weeks passed into two months and still not a single word came out of her mouth. It was like she had lost her ability of speech.
At first everyone tried to ignore her and hope that she would cool down eventually but, Morgan stuck to her promise.
Ally, Keeley and Ciaran all asked her why she was boycotting them, seeing as they had done nothing, but she just gave them empty looks and walked away.
Finally the day of departure came.
Morgan had packed everything of hers into a suitcase, a carrier bag, guitar case and two pet carriers, one containing Salem, the other, Coco. As she loaded her luggage her mother nodded appreciatively, saying “Oh, you’ve packed light. So good of you to make things easier for me.” Morgan rolled her eyes. She couldn’t help it. So far she had done nothing to make life easier for her now obviously pregnant mother.
Morgan was debating whether to apologise but then she saw Lucien’s golden head bobbing towards them over a stack of boxes he was holding.
Morgan scowled but her mother had already clambered into the van.
Lucien whistled cheerfully and said happily, “So Morgan, you ready to start a new life?” Morgan thought about how to respond to such a stupid question.
“Of course not!” she wanted to yell. She wanted to scream and kick and punch and throw the sad excuse for a man standing in front of her into a wood chipper.
But how could she? Lately, she’d gotten silence down to a fine art. It would be how she would cope in America, so she couldn’t blow this on this worthless human weakling.
She just couldn’t.
What she did do though, was to lean in trying as hard as she could to burn the words “I hate you and I will make you pay for what you did to my family. One way or another.”
Lucien didn’t get the message.
“I think it is wonderful weather for flying,”
Morgan said nothing.
“-And sailing,” Lucien continued,
Silence.
“-And swimming,”
Silence.
“-And horse riding,”
Silence was over. Morgan looked Lucien in the eyes and there was no mistaking the malicious gleam.
The blood roared in Morgan’s ears and next thing she knew, she was on Lucien's chest holding on to his throat and trying to choke the life out of him.
Then she was being lifted off him and silent tears were streaming down her face.
“What is going on?” Her mother was yelling, Ally was picking Lucien up and Ciaran was hugging Morgan and Keeley was oblivious, listening to Ciaran’s IPod which he had lent her in a desperate attempt to stop her from realising what was going on.
Her mother then stopped squawking like a chicken.
“Get into the car everyone; we will sort this out in the states.”
The all scrambled into the car. The ride to the airport was a solemn and silent trip.
About twelve hours later, the six of them were standing in front of a big yellow house with a blue roof, a white shed, a mixture of flowers and weeds growing beside and in the cracks of the path.
There was a great big fence, about six feet tall, with ivy and honeysuckle creeping over it.
A perfect house.
Morgan was going to hate it.
Her needs were simple. She required consistency and normalcy to function properly, and she had a pretty much, normal life.
She lived with her mother Maeve, with whom she had a stable relationship and her step-father Lucien who she disliked and made her best effort to stay away from him. She got along with her older sister Ally and her little sister Keeley and was best friends with her twin brother Ciaran.
She liked playing her guitar, she liked gymnastics, she liked running and she liked gardening.
She liked her house in Ireland, she liked the farm next to her house and she liked the vegetable patches outside her house. She liked her cat Salem, her puppy Coco and her pony Midnight.
Her life, with the exception of the breakup of her parents a few months ago, was as close to perfection as she could ever hope for.
Until one day her happy little world was rocked to its foundations.
“Sweetheart, we’ve got a surprise for you!” her mother had said brightly with Lucien standing behind her grinning like an idiot. Morgan instantly put her guard up. “Was she pregnant?” Morgan had thought, “She had been looking a little peaky for the past few weeks and although she didn’t want a baby brother or sister, it would be good for Keeley, who was getting spoiled.”
“Are you pregnant?” Morgan asked.
Lucien spluttered, his glasses fogging up and his face going pink. “Not much of a surprise then.” He muttered. Maeve was undeterred. “Yes and, well, since Lucien is American,” She broke off to give Lucien a loving smile which Lucien returned with a pathetic grin like a love sick puppy. “We thought that we would get in touch with his or her roots.” Morgan’s mom finished.
There was a sinking feeling in Morgan’s stomach but she ignored it and said cheerfully “Well you two, or should I say three, have fun!” Lucien laughed and said in a dopey voice, “Ha, ha! You’re such a kidder Morgan! You’re coming with us!”
Then Morgan, whose life had just taken an abrupt turn for, the worse, blacked out.
*
When Morgan woke up she was in her pyjamas.
“It was just a dream,” she told herself soothingly. “A horrible, horrible dream. I really don’t have to leave my perfect life.”
Just then, her brother Ciaran strolled into the room. He was always a comforting presence and with his tall, lean build, amber eyes and dyed black hair, he was the hottest boy she had ever seen, so much so that the fact that he was her brother was the only thing that stopped her from jumping him some days and at times even that was not good enough.
“So twin sister,” he began plonking himself in a chair, “are you going to pack, or must I do it for you?”
The sinking feeling returned to Morgan’s stomach with a vengeance. “Pack?” she asked nervously, “pack for where?”Ciaran swivelled round in his chair and said incredulously, “Come on Regan, don’t be silly! We’re going to the States!”
Morgan’s face slowly went pale.
In a second she was out of her bed, striding into her mother’s room.
Her sister Ally was there and seemed to be in deep discussion with Maeve.
“Mother, I will not go to America with you!” Morgan said quietly, but her voice carried around the room threateningly.
“What are you talking about?” Maeve yelped. “Of course you’re coming.” Morgan shook her head solemnly “I’m going to go and stay with dad.”
Now it was Maeve’s turn to faint.
As she hit the ground Lucien ran in from the bathrobe in a turquoise terrycloth dressing gown and a bright pink shower cap. There was blond chest hair curling out from the gown.
Morgan felt like throwing up.
“You go to your room and pack young lady!” Lucien screamed.
Morgan faced him off.
“Make me, Curly.” Morgan said, pointing at the offending hair.
Lucien went crimson.
“Why should I have to go? I can go and stay with dad!” Morgan complained to her mother.
Lucien cleared his throat.
“I said my dad, not some chick with a dick and a bad case of chest hair.” Morgan said slowly, like she was talking to someone who was not completely there.
Maeve gasped.
“Don’t you talk to him like that!” she screamed, from Lucien’s arms.
Morgan sneered, “I bet the kids teased him rotten! I bet they beat up his wimpy butt. I know I would have if I had had the chance. Lord knows I still want to.”
“I’m not having this discussion. You are coming with us whether you like it or not.” Lucien said as firmly as he could, which (surprise, surprise), was not very firmly at all.
Despite Lucien’s lack of firmness, nothing could sway them. She did everything short of begging, but it was to no avail.
Finally she decided to boycott everyone excluding her pets.
The real blow came one day when she was grooming Midnight. “Come on sweetheart, I know we’ll hate America together, you and me.” She crooned softly to her.
Her mother came in supporting her growing belly, and said sympathetically, “Are you saying good bye sweetheart?”
Morgan whipped round, the boycott forgotten.
“What do you mean SAYING GOODBYE?” she all but screamed.
Her mother cowered, realizing that she had inadvertently let the cat out of the bag. “Well sweetheart, we’re moving to a suburb and… well… you can’t exactly ride your horse to school…” Maeve broke off.
At the best of times, Morgan loomed slightly over her mother, but just then, she towered over Maeve, stretching past her 5’11 height.
“I—I—I...” she began, her voice becoming shrill.
Then she stopped and said in a low voice. “I hate you. I hate you so much.”
And with that she threw the curry comb into a bucket and strode out.
*
For two weeks Morgan did not speak a word. Instead of the heated looks that usually accompanied her silences there were just unnerving blank stares. Not a single word did she say to her family and Lucien.
Two weeks passed into two months and still not a single word came out of her mouth. It was like she had lost her ability of speech.
At first everyone tried to ignore her and hope that she would cool down eventually but, Morgan stuck to her promise.
Ally, Keeley and Ciaran all asked her why she was boycotting them, seeing as they had done nothing, but she just gave them empty looks and walked away.
Finally the day of departure came.
Morgan had packed everything of hers into a suitcase, a carrier bag, guitar case and two pet carriers, one containing Salem, the other, Coco. As she loaded her luggage her mother nodded appreciatively, saying “Oh, you’ve packed light. So good of you to make things easier for me.” Morgan rolled her eyes. She couldn’t help it. So far she had done nothing to make life easier for her now obviously pregnant mother.
Morgan was debating whether to apologise but then she saw Lucien’s golden head bobbing towards them over a stack of boxes he was holding.
Morgan scowled but her mother had already clambered into the van.
Lucien whistled cheerfully and said happily, “So Morgan, you ready to start a new life?” Morgan thought about how to respond to such a stupid question.
“Of course not!” she wanted to yell. She wanted to scream and kick and punch and throw the sad excuse for a man standing in front of her into a wood chipper.
But how could she? Lately, she’d gotten silence down to a fine art. It would be how she would cope in America, so she couldn’t blow this on this worthless human weakling.
She just couldn’t.
What she did do though, was to lean in trying as hard as she could to burn the words “I hate you and I will make you pay for what you did to my family. One way or another.”
Lucien didn’t get the message.
“I think it is wonderful weather for flying,”
Morgan said nothing.
“-And sailing,” Lucien continued,
Silence.
“-And swimming,”
Silence.
“-And horse riding,”
Silence was over. Morgan looked Lucien in the eyes and there was no mistaking the malicious gleam.
The blood roared in Morgan’s ears and next thing she knew, she was on Lucien's chest holding on to his throat and trying to choke the life out of him.
Then she was being lifted off him and silent tears were streaming down her face.
“What is going on?” Her mother was yelling, Ally was picking Lucien up and Ciaran was hugging Morgan and Keeley was oblivious, listening to Ciaran’s IPod which he had lent her in a desperate attempt to stop her from realising what was going on.
Her mother then stopped squawking like a chicken.
“Get into the car everyone; we will sort this out in the states.”
The all scrambled into the car. The ride to the airport was a solemn and silent trip.
About twelve hours later, the six of them were standing in front of a big yellow house with a blue roof, a white shed, a mixture of flowers and weeds growing beside and in the cracks of the path.
There was a great big fence, about six feet tall, with ivy and honeysuckle creeping over it.
A perfect house.
Morgan was going to hate it.
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