Read Online Alessandra (#1, Omega Beginnings Miniseries) by Lizzy Ford - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Lizzy Ford
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field trip to the Temple, and nothing had interested me about the
place where the goddess visited aside from the stone creatures with
their four ribbons. But this one had my absolute attention before
the incident with the boys; he was special like me.
“It’s said the gods can see through the eyes
of the grotesques and make sure no one is here to hurt them,” the
teacher said. “But they can’t hurt you. They’re just stone.”
“I don’t care!” I snapped at her, my anxiety
reaching a pitch. “You’re not helping him right!”
“Alessandra, what have we discussed about
these outbursts?”
“Leave me alone!”
“I’m getting your teacher.”
I climbed onto the paws of
the grotesque and grabbed the piece of stone from her. She walked
away. I planted the ear where it belonged, albeit sloppily, and
then I did it. I
closed my eyes and imagined his ribbons smoothing out, twisted the
two yellow ones beginning to separate and wrapped him with the
ribbons only I possessed: the green ones.
I took his pain away and went one step
further. I willed his ear healed. The stone shifted beneath my
fingers and grew together. His ear was sideways, but it was back
where it belonged.
“You’ll be okay now,” I
told him softly. “I’m sorry they hurt you.” I touched his scary
features. “You need a name. How about … Mismatch?” I touched his
misshapen eye and uneven fangs. “I don’t care what she says. You’re
a gargoyle. You’re my gargoyle.”
“Alessandra!” My teacher called.
I was always in trouble as a child, obsessed
with the ribbons no one else could see. The grotesque didn’t answer
me or move the way my stuffies did when I wrapped them in green
ribbons. I hopped off his paws and waited for the teacher to come
lecture me, as usual.
“Honey,” my teacher’s voice was gentle but
firm. “It’s time to go sit in the bus.”
“I know,” I said and sighed. Uncertain how
to address a stone creature, I curtseyed the way I’d seen the
princesses in Disney movies do. “Goodbye, Mismatch.”
Chapter Two
“Mrs. Nettles! I’m home!” I shouted and
shoved the front door open.
With my participation in the temple tour cut
short after the gargoyle incident, I couldn’t wait to get home. My
parents worked until seven each night for the government; I didn’t
expect them to be there. I dropped my book bag on the floor by the
door and flung off my shoes.
My purring, stuffed koala waddled down the
stairs to the door.
“I had an awful day, Mrs. Nettles,” I told
her the way my father did my mother when he got home from work. “I
made us a new friend! But then I forgot to tell him where I live.”
With a sigh, I began to think this was the worst day of my life so
far.
Mrs. Nettles picked up my shoes – she loved
shoes – and waddled towards the stairs.
“Don’t you want a snack?” I asked her.
She paused and then switched directions,
clutching the shoes to her fuzzy chest. We went to the kitchen, and
I told her all about my day – the stupid tour, the stupid boys, the
ugly gargoyle and being sent to the bus to sit because of my
temper.
“I don’t have a temper, Mrs.
Nettles!” I complained while heating us both cups of water for tea
in the microwave and digging the chocolate pudding out of my
mother’s hiding spot in the pantry.
Lifting her off the
counter to the floor, I precariously balanced a tray of tea and
snacks and climbed the stairs to my room on the second floor. I
turned on Frozen, my current favorite movie, which always cheered me up, and
sat down on the floor with Mrs. Nettles.
She sat on my shoes and then pawed at the
stuffed horse at our tea table.
“Okay. I guess he can come out. He almost
got us in trouble last time,” I reminded her.
Weaving the ribbons that floated around the
stuffy quickly, I counted to three and smiled when Horsey came to
life.
Clumsy and oddly proportioned, Horsey’s
first move was to knock over Mrs. Nettles’ tea.
“Can
field trip to the Temple, and nothing had interested me about the
place where the goddess visited aside from the stone creatures with
their four ribbons. But this one had my absolute attention before
the incident with the boys; he was special like me.
“It’s said the gods can see through the eyes
of the grotesques and make sure no one is here to hurt them,” the
teacher said. “But they can’t hurt you. They’re just stone.”
“I don’t care!” I snapped at her, my anxiety
reaching a pitch. “You’re not helping him right!”
“Alessandra, what have we discussed about
these outbursts?”
“Leave me alone!”
“I’m getting your teacher.”
I climbed onto the paws of
the grotesque and grabbed the piece of stone from her. She walked
away. I planted the ear where it belonged, albeit sloppily, and
then I did it. I
closed my eyes and imagined his ribbons smoothing out, twisted the
two yellow ones beginning to separate and wrapped him with the
ribbons only I possessed: the green ones.
I took his pain away and went one step
further. I willed his ear healed. The stone shifted beneath my
fingers and grew together. His ear was sideways, but it was back
where it belonged.
“You’ll be okay now,” I
told him softly. “I’m sorry they hurt you.” I touched his scary
features. “You need a name. How about … Mismatch?” I touched his
misshapen eye and uneven fangs. “I don’t care what she says. You’re
a gargoyle. You’re my gargoyle.”
“Alessandra!” My teacher called.
I was always in trouble as a child, obsessed
with the ribbons no one else could see. The grotesque didn’t answer
me or move the way my stuffies did when I wrapped them in green
ribbons. I hopped off his paws and waited for the teacher to come
lecture me, as usual.
“Honey,” my teacher’s voice was gentle but
firm. “It’s time to go sit in the bus.”
“I know,” I said and sighed. Uncertain how
to address a stone creature, I curtseyed the way I’d seen the
princesses in Disney movies do. “Goodbye, Mismatch.”
Chapter Two
“Mrs. Nettles! I’m home!” I shouted and
shoved the front door open.
With my participation in the temple tour cut
short after the gargoyle incident, I couldn’t wait to get home. My
parents worked until seven each night for the government; I didn’t
expect them to be there. I dropped my book bag on the floor by the
door and flung off my shoes.
My purring, stuffed koala waddled down the
stairs to the door.
“I had an awful day, Mrs. Nettles,” I told
her the way my father did my mother when he got home from work. “I
made us a new friend! But then I forgot to tell him where I live.”
With a sigh, I began to think this was the worst day of my life so
far.
Mrs. Nettles picked up my shoes – she loved
shoes – and waddled towards the stairs.
“Don’t you want a snack?” I asked her.
She paused and then switched directions,
clutching the shoes to her fuzzy chest. We went to the kitchen, and
I told her all about my day – the stupid tour, the stupid boys, the
ugly gargoyle and being sent to the bus to sit because of my
temper.
“I don’t have a temper, Mrs.
Nettles!” I complained while heating us both cups of water for tea
in the microwave and digging the chocolate pudding out of my
mother’s hiding spot in the pantry.
Lifting her off the
counter to the floor, I precariously balanced a tray of tea and
snacks and climbed the stairs to my room on the second floor. I
turned on Frozen, my current favorite movie, which always cheered me up, and
sat down on the floor with Mrs. Nettles.
She sat on my shoes and then pawed at the
stuffed horse at our tea table.
“Okay. I guess he can come out. He almost
got us in trouble last time,” I reminded her.
Weaving the ribbons that floated around the
stuffy quickly, I counted to three and smiled when Horsey came to
life.
Clumsy and oddly proportioned, Horsey’s
first move was to knock over Mrs. Nettles’ tea.
“Can
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