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Storybrooke was a strange little town. A strange town with even stranger citizens.
Billie Blumhouse, a cardboard box in one arm and a time-worn, band-insignia-pin-covered satchel slung over the other, stumbled through the threshold of her new home. An old victorian style house on the outskirts of town, buried in the woods surrounding the area. The exterior had just been freshly painted a cheery yellow to distract from its, for lack of a better word, haunted aura.
The inside was halfway through a total overhaul. There were tons of workers all over the place, some pulling up the tiles in the kitchen to her right, some putting down new floorboards in the living room to her left, and one guy carrying some debris from the attic down the main stars before her. She quickly swerved to the side to allow the guy to pass out the door while trying not to get trampled by the stampede of workers. They better not be in my room, or so help me god everyone here will feel my wrath. She grumpily thought to herself.
Heaving a tired sigh, Billie climbed the stairs and speed-walked to the second door on the right. Her new bedroom. She smiled to herself, the first thing she noticed being the empty built in bookshelf on a far wall, right beside a cushion-less seat underneath a bay window. Sure, the place was dusty and old and kinda smelled like my cat's farts, but it was mine now. This weird little house and this weird little town was my second chance. An opportunity to get away from my past, and everyone in it. A clean slate.
Billie almost choked on a dust bunny that flew into her face after swiping a hand over one of the shelves.
Okay, a metaphorical clean slate."
Billie set her box on the floor beside the frame of her bed, and hung her old satchel on one of the bed's posts. She plopped down in front of the box, quickly opened it and grabbed her cat Moriarty's favorite beat-up toy, a ratty little blue bird the cat'd had since she was a kitten. She'd heard the cat running around the second floor, so she called for her.
"Mori~ Look what I got!"
No response. She even squeaked it, which usually made her come running, but she still didn't see her five year old calico.
Frowning, the teen stood from the floor, cat toy in hand as she approached her open door, peering out into the darkening hallway as the sun set behind her. "Mori?"
She heard a tiny, scratchy 'meow' in reply from right outside her door. "Cmon, this is our new room. I know you miss the old place, but this one's better, I promise!"
Another obviously disgruntled mew, and a little head popped out, the cat's green eyes warily scanning the room. Instantly, she started to hiss. Billie chuckled and opened her arms for her. "Just cmere, what's your deal with this room? You're acting like it's haunted."
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Fanfiction"Why's your hair purple? Were you cursed as a child? » PG-16: language, mild violence, themes of abuse and trauma » Sporadic Updates! ©️spunkylittlearsonist