Writing PiaB: Hallowe'en Cinema [maybe M-V]

[Claire]

[FONT=Arial]That's right, I thought I'd be cool and spell it with an apostrophe! All grammar aside, here it comes. Just cause I've been wanting to do this for a while and I finally found the inspiration to do it. So here it is!

[CENTER][IMG]http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v630/ShikyoKasu/piabhc.jpg[/IMG]
(I'm pulling a Dragon Warrior, minus the l337 Photoshop)[/CENTER]


[CENTER] [B]Pine Barrens, New Jersey, 1982[/B] [/CENTER]

They seemed extremely pleasant in the early October breeze, swaying gently in the wind. They were all [I]too[/I] pleasant.

Christine shuddered, wrapping her lose bathrobe tightly around her body, green eyes staring into the forest. She sighed and shook her head, reminding herself that it was only a forest and not the pit of horse-like demons that almost every local said it was.

"They're crazy old hicks," she told herself, turning away from the Pine Barrens.

The feeling of someone's eyes boring into her soul filled her, flipping her foreboding stomach like a pancake. She didn't want to turn around, for fear of seeing a monster on the forest's edge.

"Get a grip, Christine," she whispered, taking a deep breath. She reached behind her to close the porch door, making sure not to look at the Pine Barrens again, and headed into the kitchen for breakfast.


[center][b]Last June[/b][/center]

The doorbell buzzed all day when she first moved into the house. She only saw it as an inexpensive two-story abode with plenty of space for one person; maybe two, as she often hopefully reminded herself. She was unpacking her bedclothes when the doorbell first rang at 10 AM, the day after she first moved in.

"Good morning!" exclaimed a middle aged man in a business suit. She figured he was just a door to door salesman, and tried to disguise her reluctance to speak with him as pure morning sleepiness. "I heard you moved here from Florida. Welcome to New Jersey! You're gonna love it here - the summers at the beach, the white Christmases, the ghost stories-"

"Ghost stories?" she interrupted, heartbeat picking up. She once had a terrible experience with a "haunted house" as a child, and never forgot about it. The businessman laughed heartily, patting her on the shoulder.

"Sure! I bet every state has its little scary tales, just to make the place more interesting. In my opinion, Jersey sure has a bunch of those..." he said, his happy expression dulling to a slightly confused one.

She felt herself trembling, and hoped the man wouldn't notice. "What kind of-"

"Hi! I'm Damien Mathers," he finally said, extending a hand to her. She shook it uneasily, becoming confused at the man's inability to focus on one topic at a time.

"Christine Weatherby," she replied. Mathers said that it was nice to meet her, as any polite person would do, then glanced at his watch.

"Woops," he muttered with an accident prone smile stretching across his face, "I'm going to be late for work. I hope you enjoy it here in Jersey, Miss Weatherby!"

She nodded and said something of the same effect to him, ready to close the door and return to her unpacking. However, Mathers whipped around quickly, startling her.

"Wait, Christine! Don't believe any ghost stories! I've lived here my whole life and I've never seen any supernatural things anywhere. It's all a load of bull!" he yelled, grinning. She pretended to have closed her door before he could say anything, almost certain that he would come back to the door and try again. As she didn't want this to happen, she was chastising herself mentally. She peeked out the window to see him climb into his obnoxiously red sports car and drive away.

She sighed with relief - she didn't like Mathers, nor did she trust him. She didn't believe that he was a Jersey native, because he carried no accent on his voice at all. He sounded like someone who had recently moved from Florida.

She laughed at his silliness, confident that he wouldn't bother her again. Surely he didn't think she was an idiot? She had figured out that he was fibbing, and he wouldn't be respected by her.

The doorbell rang again not but ten minutes later, this time bearing a shaky, wrinkled man wearing a plaid shirt, overalls, and a John Deere trucker hat. For pete's sake, she thought, I don't think I'm in Jersey anymore, but in Kansas.

"Mornin', miss," he said, his voice disagreeing with his appearance in the most New Jerseyish sound that Christine had ever heard. "I saw that crazy Mathers man over here. Don't believe anything he tells you! The summers here are hellish, the winters here are bleak, and he's definitely not a Joizey native. In face, he just moved here two years ago. He wouldn't know anything about the truth behind our stories. Because you know what?" He leaned in, sneering so that Christine could see his yellow teeth. "They ain't stories!"

With that, the old man turned and hobbled away, leaving her in a mild state of shock.

"Why don't I like anybody in this state yet?!" she whined to herself, slamming the door and twisting the master lock into place.

---

To be continuated.

Of course, this is by no means a great work. Just a little background info; it's a conglomeration of parodies of well-known horror movies that takes place in New Jersey in 1982. The characters are all actually being "acted out" by members of my band, Pandora in a Box, as the title states. This is a future planned movie thing that I want to include on the future planned tour DVD on the future planned tour of New England and parts of Europe (because I can, that's why). I don't have all the "actors" worked out yet, but Christine will probably be portrayed by me (I'm not egotistical, it's just the way it worked out. There are better, more fun parts played by other members/roadies!) So, if you wanted to know, that's the story morning glory. I hope to pick up the pace reall soon.[/FONT]