Skip to main content

CHAPTER 13 BRIDGING MEMORIES:TERABITHIA RECLAIMED

            This is the reimagined version of the classic tale---The Bridge To Terabithia. This Fanfic is a part of my NaNoWriMo or Novel Writing November exercise 2025.


                      FROSTED FIRES 

May Belle sauntered into Trenton's Diner, her eyes scanning the room with a calculated intent, until they landed on Leonie sipping her coffee at the counter. A sly smile spread across her face as she made her way over, her boots clacking on the tiled floor, echoing the sharp beat of the tension she seemed to bring with her. The diner, usually a haven of warm chatter and the aroma of freshly baked pastries, fell into a brief hush as she approached. Her smile grew wider as she took a seat beside Leonie, the vinyl stool creaking slightly under her weight. Her gaze drifted to Johanna, who was busy pouring coffee for a group of locals, the rich scent of the brew filling the air.

"Hey, Jo, top of the morning to you, our very own queen of the Bake Sale Fair," May Belle said in a honeyed tone, one that was quite unlike her usual sharp demeanor. "I'll have a coffee, black as her soul," she called out, hinting at Leonie with a flick of her gaze. 

Leonie tried hard not to flinch, her fingers tightening around the ceramic cup as if it were a lifeline. The warmth of the coffee seemed to seep into her palms, but it did little to chase away the sudden chill.

May Belle’s mouth twitched into a smirk, pleased with the reaction she’d provoked. Johanna, unfazed by the jab, promptly arrived with May Belle's coffee and expertly slid it onto the counter. "Here you go, May Belle," she said with a polite smile, her eyes flashing a warning.

May Belle's expression transformed in an instant, her face lighting up with a bright, almost angelic smile. "Thanks, Jo!" 

She leaned in closer to Leonie, her voice taking on a conspiratorial tone, a notch higher than usual. "Oh, here you are too, the animal serial killer who killed my Patches... Jo, be careful if you keep any pets around here." Her words dripped with accusation, each syllable aimed like a dart.

As May Belle's voice pierced the air, the diner fell silent. The words "animal serial killer" hung in the air, heavy with malice, painting a dark picture that the patrons couldn't help but envision. They turned their faces, curious and a little shocked, to have a good look at Leonie. 

Leonie's eyes widened, her face draining of color as the words hit her like a slap. She felt a wave of shock and embarrassment wash over her, her heart pounding a mile a minute in her chest. 

The diner was abuzz with hushed gasps, the sound of whispered conversations and shocked murmurs. Some patrons covered their mouths, their eyes wide with horror, while others leaned in, eager to catch every word.

"Oh my god, did she just say that?"someone whispered. 

"I always knew she was a bit... off," another voice murmured. 

"Poor Patches, he was such a sweet rabbit." 

The words hung in the air, spreading like wildfire through the diner, igniting a fire of gossip and speculation that threatened to consume them all.

Johanna's expression turned icy, a sharp contrast to the warmth she usually radiated. "May Belle, that's enough. Leonie's a regular here, and we don't appreciate that kind of nonsense talk." Her voice was firm, a warning.

May Belle shrugged, a picture of innocence, though her eyes sparkled with defiance. "What? I'm just looking out for you and the rest, Jo. We don't know anything about this... person, despite her staying next door to us for three months now." Her words were a thinly veiled attack, and the diner patrons seemed to lean in further, drinking it all in.

Leonie's eyes blazed with a cold fire in them, a rage that threatened to set aflame anyone who crossed her path. She set her coffee down with a deliberate slowness, the cup clinking against the saucer. "That's it, May Belle. Are you completely out of your mind? I've had enough of your lies and deceit. Your own family doesn't believe in the yarns you spin for your entertainment, you halfwit!" The words spilled out, sharp and cutting, a counterattack that left May Belle's smile faltering for a moment.

The diner erupted into a mixture of gasps and awkward silence, with some patrons exchanging uncomfortable glances.

 Johanna's face was a mask of outrage, her eyes flashing with anger. "I don't think it's funny, May Belle. Leonie's a friend, and I won't have you bullying her." Johanna's voice was firm, brooking no argument.

May Belle had defiance written all over her face, though it was starting to look more like desperation. She shrugged again, a smirk still playing on her lips, although not so confidently now. 

"I'm just telling the truth, Jo. Leonie's got a thing for... eliminating animals." Her words stumbled slightly, as if she realized she was losing control.

Johanna's expression turned stern, her eyes meeting May Belle's with a hint of disapproval. "May Belle, that was uncalled for. You're not welcome here if you're going to behave like that." The words hung in the air, a clear dismissal.

May Belle’s satisfied smile was still plastered on her face, though it seemed to be losing its luster. "I think I've made my point," she said, her voice low and triumphant, but it sounded hollow now.

The diner erupted into chaos, with patrons talking over each other, their voices rising in a cacophony of shock and outrage. The air was thick with tension, the weight of May Belle's words hanging over them like a dark cloud.

Leonie's face was burning with an ire even as she held a fist in the air, restraining herself from knocking the teeth off May Belle’s repulsive grin. May Belle, taken aback by the raw anger, stopped her flow of words and stared blankly at Leonie. “There won't be a next time I spare you, you nutcase! Who knows that you didn't do away with Patches yourself?" The words were out before Leonie could filter them, fueled by hurt and humiliation.

Holding on to her dignity, Leonie turned and strode out of the diner, head held high, the door swinging shut behind her with a jolt, making everyone jump. May Belle's gaze followed her, a weak smile still plastered on her face. She had painted a trail of slander and chaos, but it seemed to be costing her something.

The silence that followed was oppressive, the only sound the quiet hum of the air conditioner and the heavy breathing of the patrons. 

Johanna's eyes followed Leonie out the door, a hint of concern in her expression. She let out a sigh and began to clear the counter, her movements efficient but with an undertone of tension.

"Sorry about May Belle, everyone. Let's just forget it happened, okay?" she said, trying to smooth over the rough edges of the confrontation. 

The patrons nodded, murmuring agreements, and the diner slowly returned to its usual hum of conversation and clatter of dishes, though the undercurrent of unease lingered.

May Belle, her face now a mask of indignation, stood up, her chair scraping against the floor. "Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you all," she said facing the diners, her voice clipped. She then turned and fled out of the diner, humiliated in turn, the door swinging shut behind her with a finality that seemed to seal the tension in the air.

As the minutes ticked by, the diner's patrons began to settle back into their routines, though whispers continued to flutter like restless birds. The tension lingered, a reminder that even in a small town, conflicts could simmer just beneath the surface, waiting for the right spark to flare into something more. 

Johanna, wiping down the counter with a deliberate slowness, couldn't shake the feeling that this was far from over.

****

https://www.theblogchatter.com/blogrolls/chapter-13-bridging-memoriesterabithia-reclaimed

To Be Continued....




Comments

Popular posts from this blog

DIAMONDS ARE FOREVER

  #ButterflyEffectSpanning25Years #AllsWellThatEndsWell #DiamondsAreForever #WhereTheresAWill The pivotal phrase from “Kafka and the Doll” by Franz Kafka which says that ‘Loss isn't final but love is transformed and restored to you in ways that you never envisioned; it's all about growth and adaptation—plays a huge part in my new year.  The Franz Kafka of my life is a girl called ‘ Charrzzx’. In retrospect, this story was in all probability conceived in 2001 as a miniscule bubble, but nevertheless a significant ripple which would impact my life 25 years later in 2026.  **** Year 2001: The landmark year when I migrated to and made my base in Singapore was also a memorable one for another reason that it was my parents’ first visit to my place. The days ran into each other with visits to tourist spots and rounds of shopping sprees.  On a very fine day, Daddy and I had passed by a Giordano showroom in a mall which I would generally walk past without a second glance other...

AI 'n' I (Part 2 to DIAMONDS ARE FOREVER)

  Ok! So Babylou was so flustered after the hoodie fiasco when we arrived home, that for a couple of days she trailed behind her a chain reaction of an awfully mentally drained me–upon seeing her tireless emotional highs and lows, day in and day out. Clutching at the last straws of my already depleting sanity with the incessant grousing, I told her that I would ask AI to do a tarot card reading for the hoodie and its unfortunate pilfer ( to humor her, to close and seal this annoying chapter for good!) My ability to reason with her had explored all avenues and had horribly crashed to a naught. However, AI did a fab job ! It told me that the petty thief would soon get her karma !  How ? Pat came the 'bot'ic response. She will trip and fall face down in a puddle of muddy water... Harmless. Not a tit for tat but was enough to make me go into fits of uncontrollable laughter.  My next obvious question--- How will I know when that happens? I won't  be around to watch that ...

GOLDILOCKS: THE LOCKE MANSION

  This is a reimagined version of the popular fairy tale ' Goldilocks and the Three Bears.' This retelling is a part of the Write A Page A Day event on Blogchatter starting Feb 1 thru 28th to reach a total word count of 10K by the month end.                              CHAPTER 1                    LOCKE HAVEN ESTATE  The sky bled bruises of plum and cherry over the rolling hills. A full moon hung low against the mauve, casting silver shards through the skeletal trees. The mansion made of cold greystone loomed large beyond the rusted iron gates. It grated on the gravel, rasped on the hinges and yawned open like a predator's jaw as Goldwynn booted it open with her foot. Her sneakers squished heavily on the mulch of dead leaves. Clutching her backpack, she looked up at the towering, grim structure forebodingly.  "Are you sure you want to do this, Go...

GOLDILOCKS: THE BEWITCHED WOODS

This story is a reimagined version of the popular fairy tale 'Goldilocks And The Three Bears' and is a part of the event Write A Page A Day on Blogchatter for the month of February.                              CHAPTER 2  The trees pierced the sky like steeples, their gossamer branches blurred out high against the dusk. The luminescent creepers that entwined them pulsed like embers of bonfire in the dwindling light.  Mists thick with musk and sun-bleached pine, swirled around their trunks and veiled the forest floor in pillowy waves. The earthy smell of decaying leaves and damp moss made Goldwynn’s senses reel.  Disheveled, she scrambled to her feet, her heart racing like the devil.  The Locke mansion was nowhere to be seen – The cavern had spat her out like a bitter aftertaste. Her ears strained to hear some sign of life.  “ Where am I .. and where in the blimey is Locke Mansion...!" her...

FADED COLOURS, FRESH MEMORIES

                          RED SHOES  I still remember the happiest days of my life when Rivka all of five years was delighted beyond measure to take me home as her birthday gift. A pair of red leather shoes which she always wanted. She held me tenderly, close to her lil heart which spoke volumes. Rivka wore me to the park, playgrounds and picnics. **** Out of nowhere came that ill fated day, when I could hear horrendous screams and crowds of panic-stricken people were crammed into a truck. Rivka was howling and clinging to her mother. We arrived at a hellish place where I was brutally ripped off Rivka’s feet and thrown onto a pile of other shoes.  Rivka and the others were shoved into a windowless room and locked in. The chimneys of surrounding buildings belched out putrid smoke. I never saw her again. **** Years later, staring at the pristine room and men working in a calm manner made me relax in the cool confin...