Chapter 1: The Return of Coraline Jones

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The day Coraline Jones returned home was a gloomy and grey one. The drive up the dirt road leading to the Pink Palace was bumpy, and her head hit the window as she leaned against it, trying to relax her nerves. "Ow" she exclaimed to herself, shifting her eyes towards the taxi driver. He ignored her and continued to hum along to the Christmas music on the radio. Clouds covered the sky, making the woods around her appear more foreboding than usual. She shivered slightly, turning away from the window and focusing instead on the book in her hands.

Coraline had spent the last semester in California, studying Creative Writing, giving her the freedom she had always wished for as a kid. It also helped that the further she was from the apartments, the less the nightmares of her childhood haunted her. She remembered little from her childhood, just a blur of activity and playing outside with Wybie, her neighbor and best friend, but she still woke up occasionally in the middle of the night, haunted by images of buttons and broken mirrors.

"Hey girl. Is this it?"

Startled from her thoughts, Coraline looked up at the taxi driver, who was pointing towards the pink building in front of him. She nodded and opened the car door. The man grumbled, and he went around the back of the taxi to remove her luggage. The house looked larger than usual, looming over her with fog trickling around the outside. The pink paint was more worn out than usual, peeling away at the edges. The grounds were brown, covered in dead and dying plants. The man dropped the bag at her feet, and she gave him some money before the taxi sped off down the road.

Coraline made her way towards the house, walking up the creaking steps. Something in her made her feel on edge, like something or someone was watching her. She turned her head towards the woods, scanning for some type of movement. Of course, nothing was there.

"There you are Coraline!" The door swung open and both of her parents hugged her. Forgetting the feeling of eyes watching her, she grabbed both of her parents in excitement. It had been months since she had been home, and it was nice to feel the safety of their arms once again. They walked into the apartment, and she breathed in the smell of a cooked meal on the stove. It was nice to be home.

Her parents chatted back and forth as Coraline slowly ate her food, pushing her peas around her plate. She was comfortable sitting in silence, and she had grown more introverted as the years had gone on. Her parents chalked it up to her learning to be more observant of her surroundings, but Coraline could feel their worry as they side-eyed her while eating.

"Aren't you hungry?" Her mom prodded, looking at her with a raised eyebrow. As she had gotten older, her and her mom had grown closer, but she still felt the sense of judgment each time she looked at her. Coraline's mom had always been the practical one in the family, and she eventually grew frustrated with Coraline's stories of haunted dolls and needle hands as she grew up. It had left a hole in their relationship, even as Coraline tried to let go of those nightmares and focus on practical matters, like graduating college and writing her first book.

"I'm fine Mom! Just not used to eating anything besides frozen burritos." Her parents exchanged a look and returned to chewing their food and arguing over their latest gardening book. Eventually, her mom returned the conversation back to her.

"So, how is college going? Are you enjoying your writing classes? I think you'll excel at writing gardening books, with all of the experience you and Wybie have had over the summers. Maybe you can even co-author one with us before you take on your own debut." Her mom smiled at her, and Coraline felt her stomach turn slightly.

"I don't think I want to write gardening books, Mom. I was thinking fantasy, maybe kids' books, something that lets me stretch my wings a little." She pushed the pea on her plate, and it rotated, looking almost like a button. Coraline blinked again, and it again looked like a boring vegetable.

"But those are so hard to sell!" Coraline looked up to seeing her mother looking concerned.

"Well I am sure I can figure it out. Kids like reading strange things, I bet they will like the things I have to say better than you do." Coraline hadn't meant to add the last part, but her childhood frustrations always seem to stir up when she came home after some time away. Her mother pursed her lips, and she stood up, grabbing Coraline and her father's empty plates. She moved a couple of steps to the sink, beginning to scrub at them.

For a few moments, the only sound was of the sponge attacking the plate. Coraline gulped and looked at her dad. He shook his head slightly and quickly returned to focusing on his peas.

"Coraline it wasn't that I didn't like your ideas. They are just, well, they are a bit eccentric." She faced away from Coraline and continued, "Writing more about your nightmares may just make them worse. Have you considered that?"

"Well maybe it's better than ignoring them Mom! The way you have my whole childhood!" Coraline got up and walked out of the room in anger. She had always struggled putting her vivid dreams down onto a page, and it didn't help hearing her mom doubt her. She just wanted someone to listen.

Coraline walked up the stairs into her childhood room. The stuffed animals had been replaced with books, ranging in topics from topical plants to faery lore that covered her shelves. Her walls had scattered pictures that her and Wybie had taken over the years, making her smile as she scanned the frames. Her favorite picture sat on her nightstand, from the first day they had met. The picture would disgust many, but it held a special meaning to her. Wybie held a slug to his nose, smirking at the camera, as if they shared an inside joke. Coraline collapsed onto her bed, reaching for her worn squid stuffed animal for comfort.

Her nightmares had always been terrifying, but she had wondered that if maybe they were written down, typed out on a laptop, they wouldn't grasp her so tightly like they did. Even after moving away for college, Coraline could feel the dreams grabbing at her ankles, dying to drag her back into a hole of madness she had created as a kid. She opened the computer in front of her and stared at the screen. She had only written one sentence in her attempt to understand the dreams. She looked at it for a moment, her fingers hesitating over the buttons. Finally, Coraline slammed the computer shut and put it on the chair next to the bed. As her eyes closed and the dreams dragged her down into the depths, the words written on the screen still echoed as the world darkened.

The button eyes never stopped watching her. 

Coraline 2: The Return of the Other MotherOpowieści tętniące życiem. Odkryj je teraz