Bree Tanner revamp Prologue
I don't know why would I decide at 1am to write this thing, much less start it, but here it is. This is going to be how I would have writter the novella. Better or worst? I don't know, I haven't finished it for comparison (besides, that's subjective XD) but I feel like giving it a go even if I'm usually not one to write fanfiction (or anti-fiction may be more accurate).
Prologue:
When I was eight years old when I locked myself in my room because my parents didn’t keep their promise to take me to Disney World. It was bratty, but I was a kid, I didn’t knew any better. I whined for hours, swearing I would never forgive my lying parents.
After I was done with my tantrum, my mother took me by the hand and guided me to the kitchen. On out brown countertops were cocoa, flour, eggs and other things all measured up. Next to them were a couple of bowls and our oven set to 375 degrees.
“Hey,” my mother said. “Want to learn to make brownies?”
I nodded once and I went over the ingredients. It was messy fun, just throwing the ingredients and mixing them. The change of textures and colors and just plain gooyness was magical. I pretended I was a scientist discovering a secret formula or a witch conjuring up a potion. Watching my creation come to life was magical.
Once done my mother sent me to the big couch on living room. She came moments later with a tall glass of milk and a plate with a brownie on top. I snatched it when it was within reach and took a bite out of it. I have to say it tasted awful. It was chewy like bubblegum and tasteless. What the hell did I do wrong?
I wanted to spit it out, but did my best to swallow it. It didn’t matter, my mother noticed and began to laugh. “I was never a good cook,” she said as she placed the rest on the coffee table. “Guess you got that from me.”
The piece mocked me from afar and it just made me grit my teeth. My attention got diverted when my mother pulled me close and patted my head. That wasn’t a good sign.
“Bree…” she said looking away from me, but without letting go. “I know we promised you Disney but, your dad lost his job at the restaurant two weeks ago. We don’t have the money. We’re sorry.”
I felt the brownie going down my stomach like a brick.
She kissed my forehead. “We’re fine for now. Tomorrow they’ll be food on the table like always, you’ll have your clothes and your books.”
“My toys.”
“Yes, just be patient,” she said patting my head. I smiled at her and she kissed my forehead again. “Good girl.”
My mom left me alone with the brownie. The bitten square still mocked my cooking failure and all my worries. So I did the best thing my childish mind could think of: I ate it. I chewed it down, swallowed it all in one gulp and puked it one hour later.
After that I became obsessed with baking. I didn’t want to dismiss what was fun at the time just because I had failed. I watched cooking shows, I took recipe books from the library and did my best at Home Ec. I eventually got better at it and my world seemed a little brighter. Even my mother seemed willing enough to help me and my new baby sister in the kitchen.
When asked in class what I wanted to be in the future I said I wanted to be a baker and change the world one cookie at a time. The whole class laughed but I didn’t care. Ever since I was thirteen I had been selling my goodies, which paid for my new ipod. Those same goodies brought smiles to my family and friends, gave me a purpose and maybe, just maybe, they would help me go places. I had promised myself as a kid not to let anything stop me, even if I fully didn’t understand it at the time.