paradisa

[So you know what's not really all that fun?

This entire cat thing, actually. That's what. No surprise there. Coraline is usually pretty okay with cats and all, but throughout this mess she's been holed up with a trowel in arm's reach. All she knows is that shit went from boring to intense pretty fast right there. The creep factor hit just a little too close to home, literally.]

So... this kind of stuff is why everyone hates it here so much. Really hates it. I mean, I really hate it too, but I guess it never seemed as totally creepy as everyone made it sound.

... Well, as deadly, at least.

[A hesitant pause.]

What's the absolute creepiest thing it's done before? Just so I know what to look forward to.

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[Dictated]

So what's the stupidest, crappiest, most irritating thing this place has ever done?

[After stupid summer camp and stupid whatever-that-was last week, Coraline is just curious.]

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So about that whole freaky world changing thing.

[After nursing seven million insect bites and minor sunburn, Coraline's finally getting a start on what she meant to do before the entire summer camp debacle: gardening. This afternoon, she's attempting to carry a bag of soil and a tin box down the lobby stairs. Her journal is resting on top of the box, picking up the metallic rattling of her trowel.]

I heard that was someone's home we went to. Someone in the castle. [A pause.] Could we get sent to other people's homes too? Does that happen a lot?

[She pauses again.]

I mean, I'm just curious. I guess Oregon would be a pretty boring place to go.

( Rue )

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[Dictated]

Is there a garden or something here anywhere? Or maybe a place I could start one? Trying to grow things in my window isn't really working out so well after all.

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[Creak. Creak. Creak. Creak.

... Creak.

There's the distinct sound of springs over the journal, a bit after midnight - possibly a trampoline, to those familiar with the sound. Bet it's pretty annoying, huh? It goes on for several minutes, then stops with a gentle thump as Coraline hops off onto the floor, stumbling a bit.]

Okay, so this wishing thing can be pretty awesome. My parents would never let me have a trampoline in my-

[... She stops short.]

My parents wouldn't ever...

[Parents... She can't picture them. No matter how hard she focuses, she can't picture her parents. It's like she's just... forgotten. That's not possible, is it?! She still knows their names, and she can picture their gardening catalog and her mom's snow globes. But when she tries to imagine them disapproving... ]

... Something isn't right.

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So I guess if everyone here isn't totally of their rockers and making things up - [There's a pause, and the sound of cereal being poured into a bowl] -a lot of people around here seem to know who I am?

[She stops for a few more seconds, to take a few bites of Froot Loops and figure out what to say next.]

My name's Coraline Jones - Coraline, not Caroline - and if you've met me before, I'd really like to know, alright? No more of this creepy stuff where people keep knowing my name. I've had enough of that for a lifetime.

[She leaves the journal open on the kitchen counter to wait for a reply, and goes back to eating her super-healthy, balanced cereal dinner, meticulously picking out all of the blue pieces to eat first.]

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[A little after midnight, a voice comes over the journals - panicked, pissed off, and very distinctly belonging to a young girl. She's shouting, but not into the journal, which is folded open in the messenger bag around her shoulders.]

Hey, is this some kind of sick joke? Sticking me up here so I can't-

[There's a slight yelp and a bit of a scuttling noise, followed by the sharp whistling of wind.]

I'm still not gonna let you win! Got it?

[When there's no answer to her shouting, Coraline's audacity falters. Paradisa's decided it would be fun to drop her right on the top tier of the castle's roof, and after about ten minutes of clinging to the slanted tiles, it's starting to make a bubble of fear and raw panic swell up in her throat.]

Can anyone even hear me? ... Hello?

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journal posts

Entries tagged with coraline jones

seven locked doors

six repetitive questions

five bags of soil

four dead houseplants

three creaky springs

two stale froot loops

one perilous roof

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January 2015

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