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Morganstern Estate - May 19th
"Sandy! Where are all the boxes for the museum? I swear I had them earlier." called a distant voice.
"No idea, Mom!" Sandra yelled back downstairs as she paced back and forth, rifling through her clothes, trying on things, then discarding them. "No, a beret wouldn't go with that!" she whined dramatically. Why would I even wear a beret tonight!? "In the living room, maybe?"
"Already checked there..." the voice grunted. "Your friend will be here soon! What's taking you?"
"Jackson and his family, you mean? Pretty sure they're your friends too... last time I checked." Sandra called back down the staircase.
"Just because you may be right, doesn't mean you have to be smug about it." the second woman responded still looking for her boxes. "Are you dressed yet? I don't think you'll send the right message across to Jackson, otherwise."
Sandy walked over to the railing to give an incredulous look, as a crazed woman appearing to be in her mid to late thirties scrambled through the lower floor in a mid-length black & white dress accented, in stark contrast, by the mahogany parquet floor and the gold earrings she was struggling to put on.
"Ugh, he's my best friend, Heather... I don't think he'd even notice. I'd be more concerned about his parents." her laughing tone now coming from the other side of the hallway, her footsteps somewhat rushed.
It always felt weird for Sandra to call her that, but occasionally it slipped out... The woman was actually her stepmother, her mother having passed when she was young, even so she and Sandra had quickly bonded and became close friends. She only called her something other than "Mom" in play or anger.
"They always notice, Sandy... Especially at your age." 'Well, some of them, anyway...' she mused introspectively. "Don't let them tell you otherwise." Her stepmother continued somewhat absent-minded. "Oh, here they are..."
"Already?! I should have another 15 minutes, at least!" Sandy cried out in a resounding, muffled tone of panic and toothpaste.
"No, the items for the museum... Somehow they got pushed into the study." Mrs. Morganstern responded.
"Ok, because you scared me like that I'm borrowing your shoes..." came Sandra's quick reply.
"You were just looking for an excuse, weren't you?" her stepmother laughed as she inspected the boxes and started typing names out on her label maker, then scribbling onto a form on her clipboard. "All the technology in the world, and we still use these forms; I don't get it..."
"No, if I was looking for one I'd take the slingbacks and not the heels." she said gleefully, at the thought of rummaging through her stepmother's shoe museum.
"Why do you need heels?" her stepmother asked slowly looking up the space between the floors where she unconsciously hoped her cocked eyebrow would still be seen.
"I don't, but I get to be taller and they look cute on me." Sandra called back down.
"Fine, but not designer ones." Mrs. Morganstern acquiesced.
"...but I like the Margills! And it's not like you don't have 400 others..." Sandy whined.
"You're lucky, I like you..." Mrs. Morganstern playfully grumbled. "This is what I get for having small feet, isn't it? Fine, I suppose those are ok. As long as you don't take the Jimmy Choo's, you almost wrecked them last time."
"Yes, stepmother, dear..." came the mocked reply as it sauntered its way down the embossed staircase.
"Cute, Sandra... but me adult, you child, got it?" Heather Morganstern said in a more serious tone still ticking items off her clipboard.
"Yea, Mom, I've got it." She winked over the top of the railing, and posed playfully showing off her current choice of outfit. "Haven't you seen me?"
"You're your father's daughter, alright." the response echoed.
"Ugh... Where are they?! I swear you love hiding these things from me."
"Yes, dear." her stepmother continued in her dry, sarcastic tone; Still sorting through boxes. "I get endless amounts of joy as a parent when I can watch you suffer. In fact, it's part of my ritual at night to memorize how to make you cringe..."
"I knew it!" Sandra responded victoriously. "Now, where are the Margills?"
"Third row, cedar shelf, under the label printed 'Margills'." Her stepmother stopped to think realizing the havoc a teenage girl can cause especially in a rush. "You better not have wrecked my itemization up there. I work hard on keeping things in an orderly manner here."
The floor sharply clacked with the sound of shoes then dissipated as though it never was.
"Sandra?" she intoned. "Hello?"
The silence was permeating. Hardly, a titter resounded through the walls... Even her breath couldn't be heard as it caught. Though just as Mrs. Morgenstern was about to start climbing the stairs she heard a faint reply.
"Hey, Mom... Yea, umm... the shoe museum is fine. Just felt a bit odd out of nowhere." '...and I'm now on my bed. How, did I get to my bed, though?' she wondered.
"Are you ok? You don't sound too hot." the voice rang out full of concern.
"Well, I look it for damn sure." she called back somewhat hoarsely. She looked at herself in the full-length mirror that resided on the back of her door. Her faded crimson blouse matched well with the black jean jacket she had chosen and she felt that the skirt and black leggings were fun; Topping it all off with a dark green fedora that she appropriated from her stepmother's wardrobe she thought made it all look playful.
"Ok, well, I'm making going to heat up the water for tea..." Mrs. Morganstern replied not entirely sure what was going on, but unsure how to react. Sandra would tell her if she had a problem, she figured. She always had before. "They should be here any moment. Best come downstairs..."
Sandy slowly moved away from her bed and started down the hallway. She made it to the edge of the staircase before she felt another wave of strangeness wash over her and she was at the door as the doorbell rang; A flush of humidity all about her.
"Hey, Mom? Does it feel damp in here to you?"
YOU ARE READING
Discordiae - Jackson's Story
Fantasy*Note: This is unfinished, but does update on occassion.* As a high school student, Jackson Collingswood is fairly average... He has a bunch of friends, a crush on the cute neighbor, a close bond with his sister, problems with his parents, an addict...
