2. MY MARSHMALLOW MAN
I have to admit that them calling Tayla and I by our full names was seriously annoying me. When I was born my mother gave me a traditional Spanish name, but Peter made her change it to something more ‘normal’ when they got married. Therefore, I became Emilee. For some reason Peter let her choose Tayla’s name (he named my other siblings), so she named her Talisa ‘Tayla’ to match my name.
There were a lot of ‘name’s in that sentence.
Inside the castle it was even more like Hogwarts. The entrance hall was large, with a marble staircase and flooring that was made out of a weird substance. It was bright gold, with little swirly things that moved around. Like the floor of an alien spaceship!
Oh no. This is a trap! The aliens have trapped us in the castle and are going to take us away to their planet!
Christopher grabbed my hand, halting my thoughts. ‘The floor is made out of a type of alloy called Terethium. A famous vampire named Basil created it out of gold, silver and a mystery substance. He still won’t tell anyone what it is.’
That’s because he stole it from an alien spaceship!
‘He’s still alive?’ Tayla asked, a confused expression on her face.
‘Of course, sweetie,’ Christopher replied and hauled her up into his arms. ‘Basil’s a vampire, like me.’
‘Am I a vampire?’ He glanced at me, obviously uncomfortable by the question. I put my hand on her arm.
‘No, you’re a faerie,’ I told her proudly. ‘One day you’ll grow wings and fly away like a butterfly.’
I couldn’t resist joining my thumbs together so my hands looked like a butterfly and flapping them around. Christopher shook his head at me.
‘Hey!’ I cried suddenly. ‘Where’s Billy?’
‘He went to get my siblings.’ He took my hand in his free one, killing my butterfly.
‘You butterfly killer!’ I accused. ‘How dare you! That butterfly was ten times the man you’ll ever be!’
Christopher sighed loudly. ‘Milee, I did not kill the butterfly. The butterfly wasn’t real.’
‘You’re not real!’ I pouted and took LaLa from him. I didn’t want her anywhere near a butterfly killer that wasn’t real.
‘Oh, come on Milee. Don’t start a brand new argument over nothing,’ he warned.
‘It’s not over nothing! You killed a butterfly! That’s blasphemy!’
‘Milee! Stop it! Please?’ He looked at me, his expression pleading for me to just let it go.
‘Fine,’ I sighed. ‘But now you ooooowe mee!'
‘How the he-’
‘NOT AROUND TAYLA!’
‘-Heck do I owe you?’
I frowned. ‘You just do! Deal with it, biatch!’
‘Not around Tayla,’ Christopher chided, throwing my words right back at me.
‘I didn’t swear, though.’
‘Excuse me? Is biatch suddenly not a swear word?’
‘Not with that extra vowel in it! Bee-aaah-tch. Not… the other word.’
‘They mean the same thing!’
By now we were toe to toe, with me glaring up at him murderously. I knew I’m partially wrong, but not all