My Mate is a Greek God

11: Spooky night

A/N: This chapter is going to be split into parts, and it's going to be a trip 🙃

Question: If you had to choose between being a shapeshifter or a vampire, which would you choose?
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"Why didn't you protect Mom?!"

Mom

mom

   mom

ᵐᵒᵐ
ₘₒₘ...

Todd's anguished cry echoed and faded into sweet oblivion.

Brenda fought against the pull of slumber, reminding herself a saying from her motherland: 'May the good lord take you, but not too soon.' But, alas, a different familiar mantra crept into her mind: 'There's no need to fear the wind if your haystacks are tied down,' and so she no longer feared its embrace.

She told herself this wasn't the end. That when her weakened body returned with its strength she would greet her son with her own two orbs again. To symbolize this solemn promise, Brenda wept a single 1981 Hershey's Kiss tear into the palm of her boy's hand.

A kaleidoscope of colors danced and swirled as she whirled through the depths of her subconsciousness. Memories framed in hexagons floated and bounced as she leapt from holographic trapezoid platforms.

A wee, chubby cheeked Brenda coming home from school, bursting through the front door with a toothy grin and a paper gripped tightly in her hand. It was stamped with an 'A+', and she proudly presented this, right in the center of her family's living room.

Click of a button from a remote— chatter from a television box became a little louder, Brenda's mother didn't budge from her chair. Her sunken orbs never wavered from the screen, staring past the paper and the girl holding it. Brenda's father never left his study.

Brenda frowned at this cruel blast from the past, waving away the cursed hexagon til it disappeared like mist. She hopped along to happier times, to when she received her first vintage candy, a Strawberry Bon-bon passed down from her beloved departed great-great Granny.

To when she first met Lydia, when they secretly exchanged duct tape purses in the girl's restroom of their old middle school.

She smirked in fondness at these moments. But it was one memory in particular that truly caught Brenda's beady orb.

Last year's Halloween party.

Halloween was Brenda's favorite holiday, right next to St. Patty's day. Due to her ability, she could be whatever fantastical or abominable creature she wanted to be amongst her peers for one gloriously spooky night. No longer the loner, reject, Irish redhead vintage candy collector who everyone avoided, but an extravagant being more akin to her bestest friend, Lydia.

Brenda admired Lydia. The way people flocked to her, laughed at her, stared at her, and above all, the way she never let it bother or change her. How Lydia's orbs were like two whimsical color changing mood rings. To Brenda she was an enigma more fascinating than the mechanism of Pez dispensers.

But, enough of that.

Back to that mysterious Halloween night.

Brenda had been building up the courage for this shape shift for months, because this year she would be going as something she's never gone as before. So with a snap of her sticky fingers, she shimmered into her desired form— a scandalously beautiful demon girl.

She stared into a compact mirror. A bright white smile, ridden of her once chipped and metal filled teeth, spread across her plump, no longer paper thin lips.

Brenda waltzed into a huge mansion in the middle of the woods— the location of the party. Some mega rich popular and supposedly ridiculously hot Greek God-like mysterious boy named Brett was the one throwing it. Given her outcast status though and the guy's strange lack of social media, she had never seen his face.

Brenda had told Lydia she wouldn't be going to the party. Not because she didn't want to spend it with her best friend, but because she couldn't be Brenda this time. Even she wouldn't believe this was just the studious work of costuming and special effects makeup.

For the first time in Brenda's life, guys noticed her. Brenda wondered for a moment if she had accidentally transformed herself into a corpse and if these boys were starved crows. Their orbs devoured her remarkable fire engine red silhouette.

"Sick devil costume, bro," a voice behind her said.

Brenda halted the clack of her Swarovski bedazzled black stilettos. She pivoted her shoulder, flipping her long luscious hair along with it, and locked orbs with the owner of the handsome voice.

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A/N: I don't have as much experience writing in past tense, so if you find any mess ups in that regard, please point them out to me

Lyndie ❤️