MarbleborneRegion
The Parallel
Two Weeks Later
Turkey baster.
If she wanted a kid, she should have used that damnedturkey baster.
These were my thoughts as the carriage…
Yeah, that’s what I said…
The carriage…
Slowly made its way down the road,bippingand bopping, swaying and bouncing, and serious to God, with all that movement,it was a wonder I didn’t hurl all over my gown.
Yeah, that’s what I said.
My gown.
Women wore gowns in this world.
Andcorsets.
One thing I knew for certain, the kind youhadtowear was nowhere near as comfortable as the kind you bought to give a thrill toyour guy.
I looked at “my dad.”
He was a lot heavier in this world.
This might be because he was a lot richer.Or it could bebecause he was a lot lazier (because when he wasn’t all up in my face, teachingme things about this world, he pretty much did nothing but sit around and plot,or maybe it was sulk).Or it could be God’s punishment because he was agigantically bigger dick than my real dad was.
And considering my dad was a colossal asshole, that wasserious.
But I had a plan.
Play his game.Pretend I was doing his bidding (and FYI: hisbidding was that I was supposed to let some royal guy marry me, have sex withme, make me pregnant, and once I had a son, I could have my mom back and gohome, leaving said son behind—uh-huh,thatwas his bidding).
My plan was, while I went about doing this unconscionablyawful stuff (or going through the motions), I’d figure out where Mom was.OnceI did that, I’d get her, and that troubled woman who looked exactly like me,who was now with her.
After that there would be the small matter of finding awitch to send us from this Disney Movie from Hell back to the real world.
And when we were home, I’d need to sell a kidney and about amillion pints of plasma in order to afford the therapy it was going to take tosee Mom through the aftermath of this nightmare.Not to mention the ongoingcare that chick was going to need.Because I knew another thing for certain,she seemed docile and sweet (albeit freaked way the heck out), but she wasmessed up and she needed someone looking after her.And for certain this guy,who was her father, wasn’t doing a bang-up job of it.
However, that someone looking after her should maybe havetwelve degrees that taught them how to do that adequately, and thus shouldnotbe my mom behind bars in a fuckingdungeonsomewhere in this DisneyMovie from Hell.
I looked out the window at the countryside rolling past,hating it was so gorgeous.
But it was.
The colors were ridiculously vibrant.The flora and faunaplentiful.The air even seemed like it had glitter floating through it, and itsmelled amazing.Fresh and clean.Wherever we were right then, you could smellthe grass or the flowers.But when you got near a river, you could smell thewater (yeah,the water, I wasn’t kidding, and it smelled fantastic).
My favorite?When you rode through a village and you got awhiff of bread baking or meat roasting.
I was Belle drifting through town (though, also goingthrough countryside, and not doing this dancing and reading a book, butbippingand bopping in a carriage).
Except my “dad” was Gaston grown up and a hundred times moreof a villain than he was in the movie.
