Lily Nephel: Teraphim

Chapter One

“For an extra twenty I'll tickle your taint big boy!”

“Arrgggg,” I groaned at my ceiling, twisting my pillow and bringing its ends to cover both of my ears. I succeeded in drowning out the color commentary of Ms. Ashroth’s evening running into my morning, but the pillow did nothing to mute the sounds of her latest John getting his get on.

I jumped to my feet, faster than I needed to be moving at five thirty in the morning and quite literally fell into my window. Cursing loudly, I slammed the small broken frame up and threw myself through the screen less hole until my bare hips leaned against the splintered wooden sill. I didn’t even have to stretch fully to reach and bang on the bedroom window of the next trailer over.

“Dominique!” I screamed banging loudly. I hesitated only half of a second before continuing my two handed assault all over her window and the aluminum siding of her double wide. “Nicki!”

Finally, the six foot five tranny’s painted face appeared, smiling, through the window.  

“Hey sugar,” she cooed, sucking on a cigarette through a jade tube, her red velvet robe falling open around her chest. “What are you doing up this late?”

I bit back a growl, forcing myself to unclench my fists and flattening my hands against her trailer. “Dominique I am not up late, I should not be up for another half hour. You and your little friend woke me up!”

“Little friend is right.” Dominque chuckled. “But that ole geezer? Please, he couldn’t have gotten you up, he can’t even get himself-“

“Enough!” I cut her off, falling back through my window so quickly I stumbled over something warm and soft and landed hard on my ass. “Shit,” I sighed as my French bulldog ran from the room crying. I watched Opie run from the bedroom and only then did I catch hint of the smells wafting from my tiny kitchen.

Ironically, it had taken becoming emancipated from my parents to finally wake up to a home cooked meal. Granted I was waking up to said meal inside a dilapidated trailer and not my family's estate. It mattered nothing to me back when I was fifteen and just needed desperately to be rid of my delusional and dangerously powerful family and even now two years later, the condition of the home meant little. It was all mine and it was safe. It was everything I needed, even if it came with colorful neighbors and a bug problem.

It also came with Bria.

And her feta, spinach and egg white omelets.

Pushing myself to my feet, I slipped into my worn house shoes and shrugged on a black robe. I didn’t bother fixing the messy black bun that was my hair, despite knowing Bria would already be dressed to the nines in my kitchen, happier than even Martha Stewart would be this early on a Monday. My best friend wouldn’t have judged me if I’d stumbled down the narrow hallway naked.

Instead, I stumbled down the narrow hallway half-dressed and grumpy.

“Good morning Lily,” the seventeen year old sang out. I grunted in reply and peered at my friend through narrowed eyes. “You’re up early.”

I laughed sarcastically. “We can thank Miss Dominique for that.” I spat.

Despite making a tsk-tsk sound under her breath, Bria kept the smile on her face. "Well I want expecting you up yet so I need just another minute."

It was unnatural. Bria Emmanuel stood at my stove, humming and bobbing her head to a tune only she could hear. She wore a pair of 7 For All Mankind black torn jeans I knew to cost more than six hundred dollars and a three hundred dollar men’s Yves Saint Laurent black and white stonewashed t-shirt. Her long white blonde hair was pinned into a messy bun and she wore only mascara on her white lashes. This was Bria’s casual look.