|COMPLETE| (Under Revision)
Action/Romance
Morgan-Grace is an odyssey following a young southern woman as she journeys through the wicked and rip-roaring side of Las Vegas. When newly discovered vices are introduced into her conventional life, she m...
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_____ June 3rd, 2012 FLASHBACK _____
"Happy Birthday!" Morgan's parents shouted, startling her out of her sleep.
As she tried to catch her bearings, a candle flicker from a cake danced in her eye. A cheerful smile stretched across her face and she quickly pulled herself up into a sitting position. With her mother handing her the fun-sized cake, she blew out the candles and put an end to their violent rise and fall. Giving her father a long side-eye, she hoped he wouldn't ask the same old question that he had been seeking for years.
"Whatcha' wish for?"
Sighing, she cocked her head. "Pa, ya know if I told ya, it ain't gonna come true."
She knew her father was just pulling her leg and the amused huff that he let out was proof.
"Come on ova to the kitchen, I'll cut ya a slice," her mother urged, grabbing the cake.
After sliding on her timeworn slippers, Morgan made her way into the kitchen where her mother stood slicing into the cake. Her father sat at the table, reading over his morning newspaper.
"Besides eatin' cake with yer ole folks here, whatcha plan on doin' today?" she asked, handing her a slice.
With an uncertain shrug, Morgan pulled out a seat and licked the frosting from her finger.
She hadn't planned on doing much, just watching reruns of her favorite southern drama. That's really all she wanted to do on her twenty-first— a homebody's paradise.
"Oh, well that's perfect! Yer cousin Ella-Mae's comin' ova."
Caught off guard, Morgan gulped down the bite stuck in her throat and stared over at her mother.
"Wait-wha? Why?"
"Whatcha mean? She wanted to celebrate yer birthday witcha."
Morgan glanced over at her father, hoping he would say something to get her out of the tight spot. He purposely kept quiet, shoving large amounts of cake in his mouth. He was picking his fights wisely.
Morgan tried to object but was quickly silenced by her mother's customary 'hush now'. Feeling defeated, she pushed her plate away, no longer hungry.
She didn't have anything bad against her cousin, they were just from two different sides of the train track. Ella-Mae was like a lit firecracker. You never knew when she was going to explode but when she did, it never failed to be loud and wild.
It wasn't long into their silence before her cousin pulled up in her vintage 1966 Volkswagen Beetle, the signature shrill of its horn clamoring down on Morgan's eardrums. Reluctantly, she headed out to the porch behind her parents, eyeing Ella-Mae as she greeted them.
