The Fourth wall breaking of DEADPOOL meets JANE AUSTEN meets MAGICAL WEIRDNESS
When a mysterious new boy comes to town, seventeen-year-old odd ball, Peneloper Auttsley, must confront the secrets of her past in order to save her present.
...
Regina Gale used to roam Potter Oaks hallways as a delinquent, donning all the required regalia: cigarettes stuffed in the back pockets of tattered jeans, ears and nose filled with enough holes to strain a family-sized portion of spaghetti, shoulder, neck, and lower back covered in thoughtless tattoos.
But now her office is the very prison she frequented in her youth, and it is no longer a place of condemnation but of sanctuary, though she finds herself restless regardless. She sits on the opposite side of the desk, in the important, worn-but-not-destroyed leather chair, staring down the crooked bridge of her nose into the faces of misbehaving students and...feels a kinship with them, them riding the waves of teenage rebellion as she once had.
Peneloper Auttsley sits outside her door, but as Regina still has half a cigarette to smoke, Miss Auttsley must wait. And wait she does, with glee, because she sees this as an opportunity to revisit a place, that, like Mrs. Gale's office, provides her sanctuary. It is her dearest treasure, a leather bound notebook, and this revelation that a book is her most beloved possession should come as no surprise, as that's just the kind of story this is.
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•Land of Confusion•
It was a gift from her father, who'd recognized Peneloper's love of writing from an early age. And like Peneloper's mother, who, back in those happier days, used to cultivate hot peppers and tomatoes to life in the backyard, Peneloper's father sought to cultivate his daughter's imagination.
She loved her notebook, carrying it with her everywhere, favoring it above all else. When her book bag was weighed down by last minute homework assignments, Peneloper would often toss aside her text books in favor of her notebook. A shiver coursed through her as her fingers brushed the pebbled leather cover. She traced the wrinkles, put there by years of abuse.
The scent of oil and parchment and ink made her smile, which was quite a feat, given she sat outside the principal's office awaiting punishment.
She cracked open the book, her gaze drifting over the words inscribed in the front cover. The last words her father had ever given her, an extra gift, before the world deemed it necessary to take him away.
For my beloved Nep. You were blessed with the ability to create wonder. I can't wait to see how you effect the worlds.
- Dad.
After swallowing back a lump of pain that had formed on her tongue, and pressing her eyelids shut tight to prevent the trickle of tears from starting, Peneloper glanced back at the words. She'd never thought much about them, aside from how lovely bittersweet they were - the encouragement and love encapsulated much of what she remember of her father, but now, oddly enough, she focused more on one word in particular and what she'd always assumed had been a typo.
But the revelation that magic was real had shifted her perspective.
Worlds.
Her father had written 'worlds.' She knew enough from school to know that worlds existed. Mars. Saturn. Pluto had existed, and then, when enough scientists became disillusioned by the unremarkable space rock, was downgraded to dwarf planet status.
