The goddaughter ((my actual storyline))

[Laverna]

(( my character doesn't fit in the storyline of the site so she's separate ))



The troublesome sixteen-year-old Laverna found herself sitting in Ms. Goldie Day’s obscure and secretive office, hidden in the maze of the Marie Curie Research Institute. Goldie wasn’t here yet; her leather office chair remained empty, and the computer’s screensaver bounced lazily across the screen, suggesting it hadn’t been touched in quite some time.





Laverna didn’t have to wait long. Ms. Day entered, a tote bag stuffed to the brim with various items swinging at her side. “Good evening, Laverna,” she greeted, setting the tote down on the antiqued mahogany desk with a gentle motion.





“Good evening, Ms. Day,” Laverna replied, her eyes cast downward as she peeked through her lashes at her therapist.





Ms. Day nodded in approval of Laverna's quiet greeting, then gently propped her chin up with a light touch. “Let’s keep your head up,” she encouraged, her tone warm yet firm.





“Now, shall we get started on why I invited you here this evening?” Goldie asked softly, pulling out the contents of the bag one by one. Laverna watched with curiosity as her therapist placed a spearmint and eucalyptus essential oil candle on the desk.





Laverna nodded as Ms. Day retrieved a brand-new lighter from the bag. In moments, the three candle wicks were flickering to life, filling the room with a calming aroma.


“I wanted to do an occupational therapy session with you,” Goldie explained, placing two empty Styrofoam cups on the table. “You’re free to leave at any time.”





“They’re empty,” Laverna grumbled, watching as Ms. Day scraped her nails against the foam, creating a soft, sizzling sound.





“They're not for drinking,” Ms. Day replied, encouraging Laverna to mimic her actions. “They’re for destroying.”





Laverna tilted her head, a mix of confusion and intrigue. She hesitated for a moment, then began to poke holes into the cup. As she tore it apart, she felt a sense of release. Within ten minutes, she had reduced the cup to a pile of foam pieces.





Ms. Day held out a small trash can, and Laverna discarded the remnants with a satisfied sigh. The session continued with quiet activities—sorting beads, playing memory games, and other exercises designed to engage her mind.





Once the hour concluded, Laverna left the office, making her way back to her dorm. She often felt a sense of watchfulness, her godmother's presence lingering in her mind as if Carmen Sandiego were keeping an eye on her every mood from afar.





.She tugged at her earrings, irritation flaring within her. She hated them, despising how they had appeared out of the blue after her move to this facility. The gold and black onyx studs seemed more like a surgical implant than mere accessories, their lack of backing making it impossible to remove them.





“Why won’t Carmen just explain?” Laverna groaned, frustration bubbling up as she felt the weight of the earrings pressing against her earlobes. They were a constant reminder of her situation, an unwelcome token from a world that felt increasingly confining.





“Beep,” it went, causing Laverna to raise an eyebrow. The sound was short-lived, abruptly silenced as if controlled by an outside source. The sudden stop reminded her of a nurse halting an IV drip, leaving a strange void in the air.





She couldn't shake the feeling that the beeping was somehow connected to her tugging on the earrings, sparking her curiosity even more. Just as she began to piece it together, the beeping ceased entirely, leaving her wondering who—or what—had intervened.





“Carmen, it’s like you can hear everything I say,” Laverna sighed, pulling out her pastel orange nightgown. “Honestly, will you ever explain your game, or will we just keep this silent treatment going?”





She was too preoccupied with her bedtime routine to notice Carmen standing in the doorway, her attention absorbed by a sleek smart tablet, fingers tapping away as if she were monitoring some unseen aspect of Laverna’s life.





“Your cortisol levels are still high, mi mija. I’m surprised Ms. Day’s treatment didn’t bring those numbers down as I’d hoped.” Carmen’s teasing voice held a cryptic quality, suggesting she knew more than she let on. Laverna caught a glimpse of something behind Carmen's playful demeanor, but she remained oblivious to the true implications of her words.





Laverna tugged off her grey and lavender striped tank top, lost in thought. As she turned around, she froze—Carmen was standing there, watching her. Her heart skipped, arms instinctively crossing over her white lace bralette. “How would you even know that?” she finally asked, the shock still evident in her voice.


Carmen reached up and tugged lightly on her own earlobe, a smirk playing on her lips. It was a silent, knowing gesture as she swiftly closed the distance between them. Without a word, she offered to help Laverna get ready for bed, her presence a quiet reassurance that she didn’t want Laverna dwelling on such trivial thoughts before sleep.





.Laverna, distracted, mentally worked through the syllables of *Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch* as she slipped into her pastel orange nightgown. The long name tumbled through her mind as she moved through her bedtime routine—washing her face, brushing her teeth, and cleaning beneath her nails, painted a dark grey this week. Carmen’s presence lingered, but Laverna focused on the rhythmic sounds of water and toothbrush bristles instead of her godmother’s cryptic silence.





.Laverna shot a glare at Carmen through the mirror, her eyes sharp with unspoken frustration as Carmen calmly combed through her unevenly cut, blue-black locks. The hair had been a product of her own hands—cut impulsively as a coping mechanism. The dye, with its dark tones and subtle blue undertones, was Laverna’s attempt to feel more connected to her godmother, whose own hair carried the same shade naturally. Yet, despite her efforts, the silent presence of Carmen felt distant, adding to the tension simmering beneath the surface.





.Carmen, ever the perfectionist, couldn’t help but notice the three things that always unsettled her about Laverna’s appearance. First, there was the small, brownish-black mark on the tip of her nose—a burn from an early childhood accident involving her older siblings, though it could easily be mistaken for a birthmark. Then there was the way Laverna hacked at her own hair as a coping mechanism, leaving it uneven and wild. And lastly, her goddaughter’s abnormally youthful look, a stark contrast to her sixteen years, as if she were frozen in a childlike state despite approaching adulthood.





Carmen could easily fix the mark and straighten out Laverna’s hair, but altering bone structure or genetics? That was a different story. Not because she lacked the capability—Carmen could do anything if she wanted—but such invasive changes didn’t align with her peculiar sense of morality. Human experimentation, purely for aesthetic satisfaction, felt beneath her, a line she wasn’t willing to cross even with all her power.





.Carmen knew Laverna’s silence stemmed from something deeper, but she didn’t push. As she retrieved a small dental kit from the drawer, she began fussing over Laverna as if she were a fragile doll. Carmen didn’t consider herself frightening, despite the unnerving quiet. She was simply scraping plaque off Laverna’s teeth—nothing sinister, just an act of care.

 

[Laverna]

."I need to teach you to brush properly," Carmen said calmly, her voice steady as she worked. "You missed a few chunks between your teeth." She handed Laverna the mouthwash, giving her a gentle nudge to rinse.


“Ma,” Laverna grumbled, her Southern accent slipping through, which made Carmen laugh

 

[Laverna]

Laverna stirred awake, the soft glow of her daybreak alarm clock filling the room with warmth. She blinked sleepily, rubbing her eyes, and took in her familiar surroundings—the cream-colored walls and the red paisley quilt that draped over her. The bed beneath her was made of feather pillows and a set of beige-gray cotton sheets, a comfort she’d grown used to.





With a reluctant sigh, she tossed the covers aside. Her mind briefly toyed with the idea of staying in bed all day, but her empty stomach had other plans. She slipped into an oversized black T-shirt that hung past her red pajama shorts and strapped on her red sandals.





Dragging herself to the cafeteria, Laverna moved through the halls with one goal in mind: eat and go back to sleep. There was nothing on her schedule for the day, and though she could have snacked on the free food in the rec room, she craved something more substantial before retreating into the comfort of her bed again.





.Laverna wasn’t in a terrible mood, but the memory of yesterday gnawed at her. The way she’d let herself be so compliant, like a dog rolling over for its master, left a bitter taste in her mouth. She wasn’t a smiling, obedient good girl—that much was certain.





This morning, she moved through the cafeteria with subtle cunning, her eyes darting around for anyone watching. She wasn’t that hungry, but the thrill of taking what she wanted gave her a spark of satisfaction. She slyly pocketed a Honeycrisp apple, then scooped a small container of peanut butter from the self-serve station. Not enough to seem like a meal, but just enough to feel rebellious.





Her yellow crocheted bag swung gently by her side, where she stashed her breakfast haul, including a bottle of grapefruit juice she managed to grab without drawing attention. It wasn’t much of a heist, but for Laverna, it was the little victories that counted.





Back in her small, cozy room, Laverna spread peanut butter on her apple and chewed it fiercely while gulping down grapefruit juice. It wasn't long before she heard a familiar knock at the door.





“Buenas días, mi princesa. Vamos a ir de compras esta tarde,” Carmen called, her voice echoing before the sound of her heels faded away.





Laverna groaned; her day off apparently included a shopping trip. Carmen had been hinting at wanting to buy Laverna some cowgirl boots.





She sighed as she finished her apple, tossing the core across the room, where it landed neatly in the trash can with a satisfying thud. Glancing down at her ensemble—pajama shorts peeking out from under an oversized T-shirt—she felt a twinge of regret. Maybe this outfit wasn't quite right for a shopping trip with her rich, classy godmother. With a resigned huff, she made her way to the closet, determined to find something more fitting for the afternoon ahead.





That afternoon, everything went smoothly. Laverna managed to stay composed, but every now and then, she found herself jumping at the sight of security guards, instinctively nervous. Carmen, ever the composed queen of crime, found it amusing and chuckled at her goddaughter’s jumpiness.





"Relax, kid," Carmen teased, her laugh echoing through the store. Despite the tension Laverna felt, the day passed without a hitch, leaving her relieved—and maybe a bit embarrassed—by the end of it.