(2022) HEMLOCK GROVE fan fiction.
"She wanted him to devour her soul. Like she was his favourite dessert. She wanted to be what he craved the most in life. Never growing tired of her taste. And always coming back for seconds."
📌 Started June 2022
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The seventeen year old glided down the stairs after a long relaxing shower, the holiday seasons were over and the decorations were taken down. For last Christmas—Susan and Chantel had opted for an all white Christmas tree, the year before it was an all pink tree. Susan was already planning for this year's tree even though they were still on the month of January. Being an interior decorator, she had an obsession with aesthetics.
At least, during the holiday seasons she used to busy with the decorations, hosting and baking after work—that she'd have no time to be a helicopter mother. Chantel opened the double door fridge and searched for the Krispy Kreme box.
"Mom." She called out, "where's my donuts?"
Susan walked out of the laundry room holding a basket, "I gave it to the mail mail this morning."
"Why?" She frowned closing the fridge.
"Because you're overdosing on donuts." Susan put the basket down on the kitchen island. "It's becoming an unhealthy obsession."
"Ugh!" The girl crossed her arms, "I was planning to have that with my morning coffee."
"I can make you a P&J or maybe French toasts?" Her mother looked at her.
"No, thank you." She wrinkled her nose as she grind the coffee beans.
"How's Letha by the way?" Susan asked curiously.
Chantel picked up one of the Starbucks coffee mug, that had pink cherry blossoms designs on it. She loves collecting coffee mugs from the brand, a guilt pleasure of hers. "She's expecting the baby any day now." She clicked her tongue.
"Heard the Rumancek boy is the father," her mother asked skeptically.
Chantel nodded, "yes."
"So she's not planning on college?" Susan narrowed her eyes.
"Mom!" Chantel huffed pouring her coffee. "I don't know."
She knew what Letha's plan were but she wasn't going to blurt it out to her uptight mother.
Susan picked up a trouser and began to fold it, "that's what happens when you get pregnant as a teen—everything falls apart and dreams fails, while your fellow mates move on in life."
Chantel rolled her eyes, "you sound like you're from the 18th century."
"Every time I try to talk serious with you, you cut me off...with all these petty remarks." Her mother said continuing to fold clothes.
"Mom, mom, mom, your designs...your lifestyle...the way you carry yourself are all so modern and top notch." Chantel sipped her coffee, "but your mindset is way behind."
Susan wrinkled her nose, "not funny."
"I'm not joking," Chantel emphasised on the word joking.
