Some say the world will end in fire; others, in ice. The world of Melita "Boo" Taylor both began, and ended, with water.

In the seaside town of Jack Creek, Boo was born on a rainy summer morning to what some would called a cursed family - bound by blood, broken apart by hatred. Her father, Russell, though he loved her dearly, died before she'd hit double-digits, leaving her in the care of her deadbeat mother, Lori. It wasn't long before Lori's incapability to care for her daughter became clear, and so at the age of eleven, Boo was graciously taken in by her maternal grandmother, Martha.

Jack Creek became the core of everything that Boo knew and the foundation behind every creed Martha followed; with only a thousand residents inside the city limits, people had to rely on each other without question. As she aged, the strange dynamics of the town only became more obvious to Boo - duty lies in blood, not in desire; never question the police, they're there to protect; and above all, keep your neighbor's secrets buried as well as you keep your own. The devil you know may very well be sleeping in the room next door.

The night Boo's world came crashing down was the night a category four hurricane, aptly named Monroe, touched down. With Monroe came the wrath of a hundred heavens, but as time wound on it became obvious that the physical damage was the least of the city's concern. Much darker beasts had been stirred awake by the storm; beasts fueled by evils as old as Cain and Abel.

With Monroe came the death of a family, the severing of a sacred bond, the unearthing of truths long forgotten, and the creation of a new family legacy.

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"Honey, if you keep scowling like that, it's going to become permanent."

"Good," Boo mutters, dumping a heap of mashed potatoes onto the plate of the homely man in front of her. He avoids her eyes as he mumbles a garbled thanks and scurries on to the next table. Boo sighs in defeat and glances down at the tray of potatoes, swallowing the tightness that surfaces in her throat.

They were at the baptist church downtown, volunteering at a potluck for the city's homeless population. Martha had unsurprisingly roped Boo into accompanying her but had left her to her own devices as soon as they arrived. Person after person had skipped Boo's table, where she was in charge of divvying out homemade mashed potatoes and green beans. Nobody even said good morning to her.

Boo knows food isn't the problem. The problem, in the eyes of Jack Creek, is her. Her ebony skin is a clear contrast to the powder-white bodies that surround her, and her features more closely emulate those of her African-American father than they do her white mother. In a town as small as hers, different is scary - threatening, almost. Fear is bred wherever she walks.

Despite her desire to exist in peace, she can't escape the hatred when it's woven into the very streets she walks on. Angry stares, spiteful words behind her back, and citizens who turn the other way when she's within a two block radius. From birth, Boo's been taught to be ashamed of the skin she wears and a family name she never chose in the first place.

Even at something as innocuous as a potluck, she is once again reminded of how she looks and the reaction she unintentionally brings. Despite Martha's best efforts to include Boo in every social event the town had to offer, nothing could undo the damage already caused. The Taylor family was, verbatim, "full of freaks" and Boo was queen of the unconventional.

Boo throws a glance over at her grandmother. Martha is busy talking to the last woman in line, so Boo holds her tongue until the woman eventually leaves and she and Martha are the only ones left at the table.

"Nana," Boo says quietly, watching her grandmother scoop the leftover green beans from the first tray into the unopened second tray.

"Yes?"

Boo sets down the spoon in her hand and chews nervously at the inside of her cheek. "Does it bother you what people around here think of us?"

Martha chuckles breathily. "That depends. What do people think of us?"

As if you don't know.

At her core, Boo envies her grandmother's ignorance to the rumors. She picks at a hangnail on her thumb, debating how much to say about the thoughts that constantly plague her. "For one, they think you're a witch."

A full laugh bubbles out of Martha's lips. "Good thing I left my cape and broom at home today."

Boo groans and glares stoically up at her grandmother. "Nana, this is serious," she says in a flat voice. "People talk about us a lot. They call us freaks."

Her words seem to have finally struck a nerve; Martha raises an eyebrow and turns to face Boo fully. One hand comes to rest on her hip while her eyes narrow sharply.

"Melita, who called you that?"

Uh-oh, full name use. Never a good sign. Boo fidgets uncomfortably under her grandmother's hard stare, now wishing she'd kept her worries to herself.

"Nobody, Nana, I-"

By an act of God, Boo is saved from an awkward conversation by the sudden ringing of Martha's phone. She gazes stolidly at Boo for a split second longer before pulling her phone from her pocket.

"This isn't over," she says sternly, jabbing a finger in Boo's direction. Boo merely rolls her eyes and picks up her serving spoon again, absently stirring it through the tray of clumpy potatoes.

"Now would be a good time for that stupid hurricane," she mumbles aloud to no one in particular.

Martha takes one look at her caller ID and her shoulders deflate. "Oh, for God's sake," she grumbles aloud, eyes widening when she realizes they're still at church. Boo suppresses a giggle as Martha crosses herself before accepting the call.

Boo doesn't have to ask who's on the line - there's only one person capable of inciting such a wearisome reaction from Martha.

Her daughter, Lori Taylor.

Boo's mother.

Granted, "mother" is a generous word - anyone who called Lori Taylor a good mom, or even a mom at all, would be giving her far too much credit. The only times Boo saw Lori was in between shoot-ups or in between housing, when she'd crash in Martha's spare bedroom. Not that Boo was complaining - the more distance she had from Lori, the better.

But in a town like Jack Creek, one can only escape their problems for so long.

"Yes, I accept," Martha murmurs into the receiver, and Boo rolls her eyes for the umpteenth time. Only one place Lori could be calling from and it's not hard to guess.

Martha holds up a finger to Boo before stepping away to talk. Boo remains by the table, drawing shapes in the potatoes and sighing dramatically to herself. A few minutes pass before Martha returns, still looking strained. She squeezes Boo's shoulder once before brushing past to say a few quick words to another church volunteer named Faye.

"Come on, Mel, we're leaving," Martha says breathlessly, gently tugging Boo away from the serving table.

"What about your stuff?" Boo asks. She honestly couldn't care less about what happens to the leftover food, she just needs any reason to delay seeing Lori.

"Other matters at hand," Martha replies shortly, sliding behind the wheel and rushing Boo to get into the truck. They peel away from the church after Boo reluctantly slumps into the passenger seat, internally cursing every deity she can think of for giving her the same blood as Lori Taylor.

well there it is, the first chapter post-edit! what do you think? i'm happier with this version and i hope you are too.