Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Bottled Miracle ❯ Bottled Miracle ( Chapter 1 )

Evangeline: Okay, this story isn't mine. My one friend wrote this, but she doesn't have an account on MM.org, and she was afraid to make one (she's paranoid and will remain anonymous), so I said I'd make an account just so I could post her stuff. It's really good and I hope you enjoy!

 

I disclaim any rights to this story, characters, and events.

 

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Bottled Miracle

 

I sat in the back, arms crossed, as we drove to the mall. My unidentical twin sat in the front with my dad. My layered dark chocolate brown hair was pulled back into two braids with my longish bangs covering one of my brown eyes. I clacked my jaw as she smiled her perfect smile; her blue eyes had a spark. As she turned her head towards my dad her golden brown high bun bounced.

 

“Daddy, I just want you to know how much I appreciate everything you give me.” I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Holly was such a sycophant. She began listing, “My computer, my iPod, my TV, my cell phone, my bed, my clothes, my money, driving me around...” How long must I endure the torture?

 

Dad's slightly crooked smiled formed on his face, “You're so welcome, Holly. Anything for my little girl.” We had turned fourteen two months ago and he still called us little! He turned to talk to me; something that couldn't be good, “If only you could be as grateful and appreciative as your sister,” He cast her another smile.

 

I was on the verge of saying, `You give her everything and me nothing; what is there to appreciate?' but I suppressed the urge and forced out a, “I'll try to do better, Father,” in a sweet and sincere tone instead.

 

He seemed satisfied and turned his attention back to the road. City buildings rolled by. He pulled up to the doors, “Hop on out girls.” He handed Holly a wad full of money as she got out. “Have fun my little berry bush,” he said as he gave her a kiss on the cheek and drove off.

 

Holly smiled until Dad was out of sight, then she rubbed off his kiss and made a face of disgust. She inhaled and on the exhale smiled again. She began to strut into the mall. She got to the door and turned to me, still standing on the sidewalk “C'mon, stupid!” she glared at me, “Hurry up!”

 

My jaw clenched, I followed her through the double doors. As the minutes turned to hours, my arms got weighed down with heavier and heavier, more and more expensive and unnecessary shopping bags. Holly saw a group of her friends and began to swagger towards them. I moaned as I followed her. They had already begun chattering and one of them saw me. She glared at me with green eyes and twiddled her silky black hair in her fingers and smirked, “I see you brought your pack mule.” They all broke out into giggles. I ground my jaw and glared at them but none of them were still paying attention to me. To my utter horror Holly continued walking with her friends and they added their bags to my load. As the painful evening dragged on, one by one all but that greened eyed devil left. Naturally my least favorite one of them stayed.

 

It was nearing closing time and I set the bags down to re-situate myself. Holly started yelling at me to hurry up and pick up the bags and get moving. Her friend just smirked at me. Holly was getting around to the part about how it drives her crazy how she's great at everything and no matter how good I do I'll never measure up to her and I'm horrible at everything, a speech I've heard many times before, when her phone rang. “Hi, Daddy!” she said in a cheery tone. I felt my body tense with rage as she continued talking. She was quite the little actress. When she hung up she began to walk and without turning to me airily called, “Dad says we need to use the restroom before we leave,” she turned into the bathrooms and we set the bags down with her friend and I followed her in. The bathroom was empty except for the two of us. She finished far before me. Shocker. She always finishes everything before me. No exaggeration. `Why was Holly so good at everything?' I asked myself, `Why wasn't I good at anything?'

 

I twiddled on of my braids as I walked. I felt a tug at my sleeve and at the same moment my foot slid on the wet tiles. My sleeve was released and the sharp pain signaled the ground. Without a long enough second to think, everything was black.

 

When I opened my eyes the throbbing in my head wouldn't allow me to think straight. I stood up slowly and what had happened hit me. The bathroom was dark. I peeked my head out and crept out. What time was it? I quickly surveyed the area. Uh oh. The gates locked away all the stores and the lights had long since been cut. The fountain rested and outside the stars glistened. The air was cool and still. Not good.

 

I looked both ways and bolted to the front door; my footsteps echoing. I jerked on the door noisily. “Crap!” I said under my breath, “Locked!” I spun around to the sound of whistling and the steady pat of shoes on tile. Coming from around the corner a security light drew nearer. For a moment I froze. Then I panicked. The pain in my head forgotten, I sprinted up the nearest staircase, around the corner, into the food court, and dove under a table. Panting, I pulled out the one thing I did have, though I have to pay for mine and Dad pays for Holly's, my cell phone. I hastily dialed home and anxiously waited for someone to pick up. My eyes nervously darted around, alert for anyone. I tried to listen but couldn't hear a thing over the pounding of my heart.

 

After three rings I heard Holly's cheery, “Hello?” Obviously she hadn't checked the caller ID.

 

“Holly? It's Ivy. Can I talk to Dad?” I spoke barely above a whisper; afraid to be heard.

 

Oddly enough Holly's tone remained cheerful, “Oh hi, Ivy!”

 

I guessed Dad was nearby. “Yeah, hi,” I said briefly. “Can I puh-lease talk to Dad?”

 

“Oh don't worry, Ivy,” when she said my name it sounded heavy in her mouth, “I already told Dad.” Okay. Now I was officially lost.

 

“Told him what?” I hissed, losing my patience.

 

“That you were sleeping over at a friends house tonight, silly!”

 

“WHAT?” I clapped a hand to my mouth. Too loud.

 

“Have fun!” she giggled.

 

That witch! Who's house would I be sleeping over at? I have no friends because she gets everyone to hate me. I sighed and slid my phone into my pocket. I quickly pulled it out again and turned it off. I didn't want it going off at the wrong moment now that I knew no one would help me. I slid out from under the table and slinked behind a pillar. I pulled up the hood of my baggy black sweatshirt. I supposed I'd have to avoid security all night. Getting arrested was not on my summer to do list.

 

I heard footsteps and slid around the corner. My breathing was heavy and the pain at the back of my head had returned. I held my hand to my head and crept along as silently as possible. In the stillness of the night every step I took seemed like an explosion.

 

I saw a light glowing from around a corner. I took a step back, ready to run the other way, but the light didn't move. I took a few steps closer. I hesitated. Should I? Shouldn't I? Without giving my mind time to think, my feet pressed onwards. I stayed light on my toes and peeked around the corner. I sighed with relief when I saw it was just an open shop. Wait. An open shop? Curiosity overtook me. What did I have to lose? I stood facing the door. The shop had no name written on it and the walls and door were windows. Slowly I opened the door.

 

The ting of the bell made me jump. I pulled at my sweatshirt as I looked upon shelves and shelves of bottles. They seemed to have no order and yet looked completely organized as if each one had a special place. The bottles were shaped in ways I didn't even know was possible. They had different colored glass and all had corks. I leaned forwards to see what was inside these strange bottles. One glowing light was contained in each. The lights floated in the center and faded into different colors. I reached out my fingers to touch one when-

 

“Hey!” a scratchy, gruff voice made me jump. “Don't touch unless you plan to buy!” I whizzed around to see an old man a little over five feet. Shorty. He had a peach fuzz head and a bushy white mustache. He had gold-framed spectacles that magnified his glaring grey eyes. Then seeing my face added, “Sorry, miss. Just lookin' after them…err…the merchandise.”

 

“Um…what's in the bottles?” I asked politely.

 

“Not tellin'!” he snapped.

 

I put up my hands. “Sorry. I'm sorry.” Okay then, anyone say mood swings?

 

He smiled and began scribbling something down with a feathered quill. I looked around. The shop seemed old fashioned but all different time periods with hand made wooden shelves with no glass to protect the merchandise…or them, whoever they were. He sat at a Victorian styled desk on what looked like a many-times-repaired chair. I noticed that there was no electricity and that the shop was lighted by the glowing bottles. I stood looking at him for a few minutes. I didn't want him to kick me out for asking another question he didn't wish to answer. He stopped writing but did not look up, “Yes?”

 

“How long is the store open?” I tapped my foot as I waited for an answer. For a while it seemed as though he wouldn't answer. He had begun scribbling furiously. I rocked back and forth on my heels.

 

He stopped writing and placed his glasses on top of his head and looked up. “The store is open until 9:30 am sharp,” he said in a very business like tone. “Just don't annoy us…err…me.” Weird. Why does he close before the mall opens? And why is he open now anyways? He did that `we' thing. We just looked at each other for a moment when he seemed to jolt and said invitingly, “Well sit down!”

 

I looked around for another chair but there wasn't one. I shrugged and sat cross-legged on the floor. “My name's Ivy,” I said shyly after a long pause with nothing but the scratching quill to fill the silence.

 

He closed his eyes. “Ivy…” he murmured. He smiled at me warmly. I couldn't help but hide my shock. People never smiled at me; at least not sincerely. He didn't seem to notice and pulled out a new piece of parchment and began sketching. He looked up at me every once in a while. Was he drawing me?

 

As I looked around I clacked my jaw. Each bottle was unlike any other. There were animals, plants, combinations, hearts, symbols, and combinations of all those. All were clear with a light. “I wish I had some money,” I mumbled to myself. I could buy the gorgeous bottle that was a moon with a halo and a star with wings. I would also be able to see what the little light was.

 

“Why do you want money, Ivy?” He seemed to truly be asking. As if no thoughts what so ever crossed his mind as to why I wanted cash. He turned his eyes to the bottle I was gazing at. “Ah,” he said putting his glasses back on his face. “You don't pay money,” he laughed as though it were the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard, “You promise me terms of service.”

 

“Service for what?” I asked rising to my feet. I still longed to know what he was drawing.

He chuckled. His chuckle then grew to a dull roar and died down again. As if everyone knew what he was talking about. “You want to know what's in the bottle?” I nodded slowly. “Buy one and see for yourself!”

 

This was almost perfect. I would have this magical bottle and Holly wouldn't. I didn't need money to get one. But I had no idea what was inside and no idea what `service' he was talking about. I thought about it for a long time. I was still arguing with myself when I heard a dull snore. I sat upright and saw the man asleep. I stood up slowly and walked around to his desk. On one piece of parchment was writing in a language I'd never seen before. I shot a worried glance at the man to see if he was still sleeping. He seemed like it. I reached out slowly and, as silently as I could, moved the parchment over. Underneath was a drawing of a bottle. The bottle seemed so lifelike, so real, like it was actually just lying on the desk not flat like the paper. It had vines spiraling around it with small flowers. The vines climbed up the bottle to the top where there was a large, beautiful, sparkling, colorful flower that outmatched the others. Why had he drawn this when I told him my name?

 

I gasped when I saw the drawing next to the bottle picture. It was me. Yet couldn't be. I was dressed in plain jeans that Holly had worn out, my sweatshirt from Dad, and old sneakers. In this drawing instead of my boring hair being straight, it cascaded around my shoulders in curls. I had on jeans with the same sparkling flowers from the bottle on the pockets and shimmering vines twisting up from the bell-bottoms to the knees. I had on a hooded long sleeved zip up and the shirt underneath was off white like the flowers. I had a necklace that had the glamorous top flower from the bottle on it.

 

He grunted and I jumped; falling backwards. He woke up and turned to see me on the floor. He didn't seemed too phased. I suppose it was because I'd been on the ground when he drifted off. My eyes drifted back to the haloed moon and winged star bottle. The old man looked up at me and, as if he was arguing with my mind, said, “Why don't you just wing it and buy one? How could it possibly make your life worse?”

 

I stopped to ask myself how he would know something like that. But when I thought about it. It was true. Why don't I just wing it? What do I have to lose? `Nothing…' I told myself, `nothing at all.' After a moment of fidgeting I gathered up my courage. I pointed to the bottle I'd been looking at, “May I have that one?”

 

He smiled sweetly. Two smiles in one night. But hey, this night was way out of whack. “Four terms!” he said excitedly jumping to his feet. I'd never seen someone so happy to make a sale. He handed me the bottle and held up a finger, “One moment please!” He skipped over to his desk and grabbed the parchment he'd sketched on and skipped off to a backroom. I stood there holding my bottle in befuddlement. He zipped back out before I could think about it any further. In one hand he held a silver chain and in the other a long scroll. He handed me the chain, but it wasn't just a chain. It was the necklace from the picture. Wait a minute. How did he do that? Maybe my terms of service were-

 

He interrupted my thoughts with a, “Come here, Ivy!” He motioned me to him. When he said my name it sounded like music from a harp. Light on his tongue. Airy in the room. He grabbed my free hand and placed it on an inkpad. He pointed to a spot in the scroll. “Just put your print here and we're almost done!” He swelled with excitement.

 

“What does it-“

 

“Say?” he breezed the thought away, “Oh, just which bottle you bought and how many terms and such. Nothing too intriguing.”

 

I glanced up and down the scroll. It was in that odd language. No sense in trying to read it. I drew in a breath and imprinted the scroll with my inked hand. He jumped up and down clapping with joy. I looked at my hand and gaped. There wasn't any excess ink. I looked back at the scroll as he rolled it up and got a glimpse of ink vines winding around my handprint.

 

Next he took the necklace from me and got on his tiptoes to hook it around my neck. I reached back to feel for the clasp but there wasn't one. Curious. He grinned broadly displaying crooked teeth. “Now be off!” he said cheerily.

 

“But you said I could-“

 

He cut me off, “We're closing early!” he was obviously trying to hide the joy of his sale from his voice.

 

“Can't I stay a little-“

 

“Be gone!” and I was shoved out of the store with the ting of the bell. I took a few steps forwards and then remembered I'd never really thanked him. I turned around but there was a wall that read: New Arcade Coming Soon!

 

I fumbled with the bottle. What exactly had I purchased? My mind was now free to contemplate his drawings and this necklace. What if…? I looked at the light in the bottle. No. It didn't all fit together. I walked quietly, the silence made my thoughts echo inside my head. A light around the corner made me remember where I was. I slid into the bathroom. What time was it? Would I have to avoid guards all night? I noticed my fingers playing at the cork in the bottle. Why wait? No. What if…? No. Stop with the `ifs'. Take a chance. How could my situation get worse? Or weirder?

 

I'd spent too much time thinking about it. I tried to erase my mind and just do it.

 

One…two…two…two…this was getting nowhere. I took a deep breath and pulled. The cork popped and I was blinded by dazzling lights. I dropped the bottle and heard shattering glass. When I opened my eyes, before me was a girl about my age with blond hair in two long braids. She had green eyes and wore a pale blue v-neck shirt with one baggy long sleeve on one side and a spaghetti strap on the other. She had on white bell-bottom pants with tons of pockets and had a necklace similar to the one on the bottle. Her bottle. “Hey,” she said with a British accent, “Name's Angel,” sticking out a hand with a warm smile.

 

“Ivy…” I said hesitantly. Then it hit me. She'd come from the bottle. The necklace. The bottle. The sketches.

 

“Don't be shy!” she was outgoing and friendly. I smiled back. She continued, “So…you too huh?”

 

At first I didn't get it. Me too? Oh. The mall was closed and I was stuck. Right. And the store…it was only opened during closed hours and had…vanished? I nodded. For some reason I felt like I could tell Angel anything and everything. I opened my mouth but the echoing footsteps and the sound of voices interrupted me. “Uh oh.”

 

“Whoa,” Angel didn't seem quiet as worried, “Deja vu.” I looked at her quizzically. “Later,” she whispered, “we gotta go…now!” Without inquiring further we slipped out of the bathroom. The light explosion had obviously not gone unnoticed. We tiptoed around a corner; away from the lights.

 

As we slinked down the hallway I asked skeptically, “You were in the bottle?”

 

“Yup!” She grinned.

 

I raised an eye brow, “Mind explaining?”

 

We heard voices coming our way and ducked under the stairs. Black boots passed by and we only noticed we'd been holding our breath when we let it out. Angel almost giggled, “This is almost exactly what happened to me.” I was so lost now. I pulled up my sweatshirt hood and we poked our heads out to check and see if the coast was clear. A sense of satisfaction swept over me. A feeling I hadn't felt since Mom died. Well, that wasn't true. I'd felt it but it had always been crushed by Holly. We ducked behind the fountain and Angel cast me the biggest smile I think I've ever seen. Angel seemed to jerk, “Oh yeah! The terms.”

 

“What?”

 

“The terms you paid for my bottle.” She reached into her sleeve and pulled it out. I could've sworn it had broken. I still wasn't totally following.

 

I opened my mouth to ask some more questions but was interrupted by a, “Hey you!” Angel and I whizzed around to see that we were enclosed in a circle of guards. Three of which had guns; all pointed at me. Why not Angel? I swear my life flashed before my eyes but all I saw was Holly. Holly beating me in everything. Holly making me look like an idiot. Holly smirking. I jolted back to reality to the sound of a gruff voice belonging to a gunman. “Remove your hood and put your hands on your head!” I slowly reached back and took it down. They all seemed shocked that I was a girl but Angel was a girl. I looked around at each of them. Not one looked at Angel; all eyes were on me.

 

“Angel…?” I murmured out the corner of my mouth.

 

“Err…” she looked utterly confused. She waved her hands in the air but no one acknowledged. “Oo,” she winced.

 

“What?” I asked forgetting to whisper.

 

“What do you mean `what'?!” one of the men snapped.

 

I looked at Angel and the man behind her snarled, “Whacha looking' at crook?”

 

Angel's eyes grew big, “Not good,”

 

“Oh no,” I just got it. They only saw me. Great. I could almost see the gears turning in Angel's head. Obviously we both had had no idea I was the only one who could see her. A devilish grin that opposed her name formed.

 

I tried not to follow her with my eyes as she reached into her pocket. She whipped out her bottle. My heart raced as the guards stared holes through me. Popping the cork out, she fumbled her necklace. She aligned the haloed moons. What on earth was she doing? I heard the talk of the guards but I tuned them out. The guards grew louder and took a step nearer. I swear my heart skipped a beat. She grabbed my arm and inhaled deeply. She blew sparkling mist into the bottle. She popped her hand over the top. Angry shouts barely made it to my brain. I froze when I heard a gunshot. Angel closed off the top to the bottle and in an explosion of white feathers and stars my feet left the ground. Angel and I held each other like no tomorrow and closed our eyes. When I opened my eyes Angel and I were clutching each other on the rooftop of the Turkey Hill. We ducked behind the lighted sign panting. “Angel!” I said in utter bewilderment, “How did you do that?!”

 

“Just a little trick I picked up from my bottle.”

 

I pulled my knees up to my chin, thinking it out. If she went through the same thing I did, that would explain the whole `déjà vu' thing. And the terms would mean…

 

“You don't have to figure it out on your own, y'know,” Angel wrapped an arm over my shoulder. My mind whirled. I didn't have to do it alone? I'd always had to be alone. Angel tossed her head and said, “This is my first term.” She smiled, “Do you get it?” I nodded. For each term you owed, you had to be bottled and bought. That was understandable but how long were the terms? Angel snickered, “You can talk to me, y'know. Ask me something,” she encouraged.

 

So I did, “How long are terms?”

 

I sensed a note of sorrow in Angel's voice, “The buyer's whole life. Until the second she dies.”

“Did,” I wondered if I was pushing my luck, “did you die, Angel?”

 

She smiled bittersweet, “Yeah.”

 

“Okay,” I said partly talking to myself, “When you died, you owed terms.” Angel nodded to imply I was on the right track. “So, your soul was bottled.”

 

Angel nodded and added, “Now that my soul has been released from the bottle, I appear the same age as when I bought my bottle.”

 

I nodded excitedly. All the loose ends were coming together, except for, “But, Angel,” She cocked her head attentively. “When you died, what happened to the soul from the bottle you bought?”

 

“I think,” she said uncertainly, “That her soul was re-bottled to be purchased for another term.”

 

“I saw the shopkeeper's sketches of me.” I inferred, “When my soul is released for my first term, is that what I'll look like?”

 

Angel nodded, “I'd guess so.”

 

“I wonder,” I was getting used to sharing my thoughts aloud with Angel, “if we stay the same for all of our terms.”

 

Angel nodded excitedly, “I was wondering the same thing.” She shrugged, “Want to go home now?”

 

“Can't,” I said flatly. She gave me a quizzical look and all of a sudden my whole life's story spilled out. My mom. Holly. My dad. Everything.

 

Angel listened intently to every word. When I finished we sat for a long time. Tears rolled down my cheeks. I hadn't cried in ages. “Ivy?”

 

I turned to her, “Yeah?”

 

She spoke slowly. As if planning out each syllable, “Holly's not better than you.”

I was so shocked by this statement I almost slid off the roof. “How so?” I'd thought she'd been listening so carefully.

 

“Well,” she began, “she sounds horrid. Dreadful.” I nodded without hesitation. “So,” she continued, “even though you may not be the best at anything doesn't mean you're not good. It's sounds like you're pretty good at a number of things.”

 

“But Holly's always better!” I protested.

 

“Oh, come off it. There has to be something you haven't mentioned.” She paused, “You never said anything about her artwork.” Well, Holly didn't like to draw at all. And the art teachers didn't totally favor her like all the other teachers. “You might be a great artist.” I shook my head. Angel gave me a look that sent chills down my spine; though it was not harsh or cruel. “Have you tried?” Now that she mentioned it: no. “Whether or not you're good at art,” she continued with new confidence, “You're a better person by far.” She gave me a dazzling smile followed by a hug.

 

I closed my eyes and smiled. I embraced the hug and my new outlook on life. I had someone special. Someone who cared. Even though no one else can see Angel, I know she's there and that's all that matters. I'd just gotten myself a lifelong friend. I'd bought a miracle in a bottle.

 

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Evangeline: How'd you like it? I loved it! Now please review! Perhaps I can get more of her stuff up if you liked this!

 

…And maybe I'll put an original of my own up… Ha, yeah, right…