If the Baudelaire Parents had Lived - Series of Unfortunate Events

Distant Friends

Violet

9/13/1946

Mother and father have just finished telling us about the organization they belong to, V.F.D., or the Volunteer Fire Department, on the trolley ride to wherever we are going. Even though they are done talking for now, I doubt that is the end of the story. I must go now. Mother says we are getting off soon.

Signing off, Violet Baudelaire.

I tucked my pen back behind my ear and held my journal under my arm. Father told the conductor where we were getting off and we embarked on a long, winding road towards a large house. When we arrived at the house father knocked on the door. A woman answered.

"Beatrice! Bertrand!" She cried, "Oh, it is so good to see you! It's been ages! What brings you here?"

"Olaf." Mother replied, and immediately the woman's face darkened. "He burnt our house down. He has been apprehended and thrown in jail. Our house is being rebuilt, but it will take a few weeks. May we stay here?"

"Of course," The woman answered, but her cheerful tone was gone. She called down her husband, who was also glad to see mother and father, but upset to hear about the accident. We all stepped inside.

"Oh, you must be Violet, Klaus, and Sunny!" The man said.

"Yes, we are, and what should we call you?" I asked as politely as I could.

"Oh dear, we haven't introduced ourselves yet!" The woman exclaimed. "How rude of us, I am sorry Baudelaires. I am Susan Quagmire, and this is my husband, John. We have three children as well, triplets, where are those three troublemakers anyway? DUNCAN, QUIGLEY, ISADORA, WE HAVE VISITORS!!"

Down the stairs romped a girl. She was attractive, with porcelain skin, long, curly black hair in a ponytail, and brown eyes. Klaus let out a little teeny gasp when he saw her, clearly stunned by her delicate beauty. She wore a modest light gray dress, with no sleeves, a short skirt, and black tights down to her ankles with no shoes. 

She had light, bouncy steps, and she sprung across the marble floor to us three. She shook my hand, then Klaus's, then Sunny's, saying, "Hi, my name is Isadora."

"Violet," I said.

Klaus just gaped, still silently stunned. Isadora let out a small giggle at his fish-like look.

"Sun-ay," Said Sunny.

Isadora smiled and turned to the stairs, where two boys were whispering at the top. One had short, well cropped, black hair, brown eyes, and porcelain skin to match his sister's, and the other... wow.

The other boy was utterly gorgeous, with midnight black hair down to his shoulders, brown eyes that looked like melted chocolate, and pale skin, slightly tanner than his siblings. He was the definition of beautiful to me. His looks were godly, absolutely amazing, he was the single most perfect being I had ever seen. I caught just a little bit of their conversation before they noticed us looking.

The godly boy said, "Duncan, that girl... she's beautiful. She's the singular most... pulchritudinous girl on the planet. There's no other way to describe her!" Then he glanced down and noticed us all staring at them, and he blushed, and, god, when he blushed, his skin turned pink from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. And I should be able to tell, he was barefoot, wearing just some ripped jeans and a gray tee. He was adorable.

He and Duncan both hopped on one of the railings (there was two, it was a double sided curving staircase) and slid down, when they got to the bottom they met up and high fived.

The perfect boy, Quigley apparently, walked up to us three. He held out a hand to me, and suddenly I felt an irreversible urge to touch his skin, see if it was as soft as it looked. I took his hand, shaking it as firmly as I could with my head spinning at the fact that his skin was not as soft as it looked, it was softer. 

"H-hello, my na-name is... Quigley Quagmire." His voice randomly stuttered and halted and broke in strange places. I didn't believe it had actually been me he had been talking about on the stairs, but was it possible that I was really having this effect on him?

"Violet," I said with complete conviction. "Violet Baudelaire."

"That- that's a pretty name."

I giggled a little as he stuttered to get words out, and his mouth opened slightly.

"Well children," Began Susan, "Sadly, the Baudelaire's home was burnt down in a terrible fire. They will be staying here for a few weeks. Their parents will be taking the guest bedroom, and the children will be staying in the guest house. I thought it would be fun if you three stayed in the guest house with them! It has a kitchenette, a bathroom, three bedrooms, a parlor, everything you need! I thought it could be a fun bonding experience."

The six of us all shared a slightly excited, no parents, no rules look.

All at once, we all said, "That would be awesome."