[ON HOLD] - Sweet Creature - [Outer Banks] - [JJ]

Pogue Traditions

Song of the Chapter: Sunset Lover by Petite Biscuit (I did this whole 'song of the chapter' with my Steve Harrington books an people seemed to enjoy it.)

Warning: Unedited!!

Friends are the family you choose. -Jess C. Scott

Bright rays of early morning sunlight beamed through the leaves of the cedar trees, shining through the cover that Remington Elliot had perched under. The whimsical girl was stretched out on an old hammock with a book in hand, dressed in a short sundress. The warm, sugary beams of light met her skin, illuminating the countless freckles that dotted her body like stars on the night sky. In the sun, her bright red hair defied all odds, appearing brighter and even more fiery than usual.

This corner of her grandmother's property was Remington's favorite. From the hammock she and her brother had set up as kids, she could hear the babbling of the marshy creek, lapping at the dilapidated and small dock covered in climbing vines. The dirt driveway was visible, so she noticed all visitors and after years, remembered the sounds of their cars approaching. She could crane her neck to see her home, the quaint cottage that her grandmother brought her and her brother into all those years ago.

Even Remington, a girl who found beauty in everything, could admit their little home had become slightly rundown within the past few years. Light yellow paint was chipping from the exterior, the loose second step on the porch had nearly taken out Remington's ankle the other day and weeds ravaged the yard-- a stark contrast to the fauna in her grandmother's carefully manicured greenhouse.

It wasn't an uncommon sight on this side of the island, and though the Elliot girl was born and spent the first years of her life on the North side, referred to by locals as Figure Eight, this was where she belonged. Home, to her, went beyond just a house, it was the whole island. There was a safety within the waves she surfed, the light salty breeze that blew against her, the noisy chatter of chill beach-side party.

She couldn't imagine living anywhere else, but that didn't mean life on the cut was full of good times, all the time. It was a land where children had to heal from their childhoods, failed by their parents. Where nearly everyone barely scraped to get by, often turning to illicit means to stay financially afloat. People were running from their past or doing everything they could to relive it. It was broken beer bottles, shingles falling off roofs, empty fridges and running from the cops. Still, Remington would take it over the kook life any day. Not that she could exactly recall much from her life on Figure Eight-- the Elliot girl never had the best memory.

To save face, kooks hide their problems if they can't pay them to go away, locking them deep within their unnecessarily enormous mansions, full of diamonds and pearls, nannies, butlers and distant families. As soon as a dirty little secret gets out, it becomes the talk of the town-- and if you're unlucky enough, it becomes the reason friends turn their back on you.

That was one thing Remington was probably most grateful for, other than her grandmother, was her friends. Moving to the Cut was a harrowing experience for the girl seeing as she had just lost her parents, Elizabeth and James Elliot. Her friends wanted nothing to do with her, and she had to attend a new school with students who saw her as nothing but a privileged kook. Her life was uprooted and she was left in the choppy waves with no life preserver.

Her saving grace, however, came in the form of a bright young boy in one of her classes. Pope Heyward was the first friend she made, the two bonding over their interest in nerdy topics such as physics, space, forensics, medicine and even comic book heroes. They found that they could talk endlessly about black holes, autopsies and crime cases. It was Pope who introduced Remington to John B. and JJ.