Transcendence- Chapter One
The woman stood by, staring in silence at the landscape. From where she was, so high up on the mountain, she could see everything so clearly. Neighboring mountains walled in the valley, opening a good ways off to the ocean that spread far enough that no land could be seen on the other side. The rolling hills dipped down to meet the villages that dotted the valley floor. Even now, so early in the morning, the woman could see wisps of smoke reaching out of the stone chimneys of the cottages below. She was warmed by the sight, the sight so familiar that she should be comforted. But with the warmth came the memory of the strange things that had recently befallen her. She turned away from the valley and instead looked up to the very top of the mountain she stood on, staring at the snow-capped pines that dotted the tip, creating a bright white to glare against the dark of the barren trees. Feeling a sudden but subtle lurch in her stomach, the woman lay a hand on her belly and shut her eyes. That's when, against the dark night sky, an even darker shape appeared overhead. Opening her eyes, the woman's eyes flew to the air above her, wary of the monstrous shadow. Then someone, or something, spoke to her.
"Zara," it said, barely above a whisper, and sounding as though it was being spoken directly into the woman's ear, "time to wake up."
Though the push on her shoulder was gentle, the woman, startled, fell onto her side, landing in the dirt and staring straight ahead as a giant being landed on the ground beside her.
"Zara!"
I wake from my dream, no longer the woman on the mountainside. I find myself still on my side, but in my own bed. I can feel a cool air on my neck where a light sweat still lingers. Where the being should be, instead, I find the complete opposite. "Jamie," I groan, "Worst. Timing. Ever."
My twin brother grins at me before softly patting my head. "Was is the dream again?"
His hand is warm against my forehead, and it seems to soothe away the tension that followed my dream. Though younger than me, even if only by a few minutes, Jamie always acts like a big brother to me. He takes charge of the important things like cooking meals, keeping the house straight, and making sure the both of us get to school on time. With me, though, it takes a good amount of effort.
"When isn't it?" I ask, rolling from under his hand and turning over to face away from him. "I don't feel like school today."
He settles beside me on the bed. "How bad was it this time? Did you get any further than usual?"
After a slight hesitation, I shake my head, then press my cheek into my pillow. Understanding, as he always does, Jamie begins to smooth my hair again. He doesn't speak; he simply waits to see what I will do next. After a few moments, I say softly, "I think there's something wrong with her."
"With who?"
"Me." I shake my head. "I mean, the woman. The one I become in the dream. It's the way she reacts to the thing approaching her."
Since I began having this recurring dream seven months ago, Jamie and I have discussed it in great detail, making predictions about. For instance, why is the woman away from her village in the first place? Why does she seem so nervous? And the million-dollar question, just what is the shadow in the sky?
"Did she seem especially afraid of it?" Jamie asks encouragingly.
The tremor of her heartbeat. The lurch in her stomach. The way she collapses at the slightest wind.
"She's always afraid," I answer in a hushed whisper. Then, I sit up and scoot past him and off the bed. Remaining where he's settled, Jamie watches me as I go to my dresser to pick out an outfit for today. Then he says something I've never dreamed about coming from his mouth.
"We don't have to go in today, if you don't want to."
Stopping short, I stare at him through the mirror hanging above my dresser. He meets my eyes. It makes sense that we're considered identical. We both have the same messy, bluish-black hair, his cut just below his eyebrows and above his collar, mine left long, stopping halfway down my back. Our faces are similar, as similar as they can get without seeming unnatural. The only difference between us is our eyes. While his are a dark blue, framed brilliantly by his long dark eyelashes, my eyes are a pale green, like sea glass. We like to pretend he got his eye color from our mother, and mine are like our father's. While we have no proof, it made us feel good when we thought it up as children. Even now, the idea has a nice glow to it.
"You're serious?" I ask incredulously. "Ditch school?"
He shrugs. "Maya doesn't have to know. If she finds out, I'll say you got sick, and that I didn't think to call her to inform the office."
I turn from the mirror and face him, smiling and crossing my arms. "Where on earth has my brother gone?"
He grins, rising and taking my hands. "Get dressed. Breakfast in ten. If you're late, don't expect any sympathy."
With that, he exits the room swiftly. I catch the door before it closes, calling, "Jamison Cadmus, you've gone mad!"
Already at his own room, Jamie turns to me, smiling, and says, "That makes two of us", before shutting his door. Shaking my head in disbelief, I turn back into my room to get ready for breakfast. I expected nothing more than a fun day spent with my brother.
If only a good day would last.
((((Oh my goodness, an actual story?! Don't get me wrong, I'm surprised myself. But it's a nice change of pace. After so long of ranting and suffering from writer's block, it feel fantastic to have a little mojo left in me. Can't promise much of this, as it was just something plaguing my mind for a bit, but hopefully I can make something cool out of it.
Btw, y'all like my totally creative title? -.- don't judge, I couldn't come up with anything better. It will probably change later, but who knows. We shall see. Plus, didn't even read over this twice, so don't judge for errors. G'night!
~Squiggs))))
Friday, December 13, 2013
Monday, December 2, 2013
Life, Scars, and Apologies
I don't know what else to do.
I know I'm not the best friend. Lord knows the many times I've said this, and the thousands of times I've thought it. I still can't decide if this is realization or naivety.
Everyone is not the same. This contradicts what I wrote about earlier, but it's true. I'm still tired of being grouped in with people. Why can't I be my own person? I wish I could be that one friend that likes everyone. Cuz I do like everyone. Hell, I love everyone. But I'm still pushed away. Do I not try? I think I do. Am I a nuisance? Probably. But I do try. At least, I did.
I'm not gonna be that girl anymore. And it wasn't the preacher on the TV telling me that my sins shouldn't hold me down. It wasn't the outline of Psalm 51 that I wrote last night for Bible class that told me I should repent my sins and ask for cleanliness. It was a song.
When this song came on my 8tracks, I stopped to listen to it, which is strange because I usually just let the music play in the background. But I listened, and I began to cry. Not because the song is sad.
But because it made me feel strong.
I'm tired of being pushed around. Tired of being judged by actions that aren't my own. I still feel like I'm being grouped in with other people, people who aren't like me. Sometimes groups are okay, but this is different. I'm being judged because of other people, and I'm sick of it. But why should I change because of it?
For you out there, if you read this, you know who you are. I'm the same as you. But you're stronger than I am. I gave in. But don't treat me like them. Please. I don't think I deserve that.
For anyone out there, anyone I tried for, I'm not sorry for trying. I don't regret it. But I'm tired of being ignored for pouring my heart it to you. I feel like the best thing to do is simply curl in on myself, because that seems like the only solution at this point.
I'm still going to love everyone. I don't think I'll ever stop. I want to be everyone's friend.
But I guess that depends on them, not me.
I can't add a link, but please listen to this song. You don't have to, of course, but it really helped me, so maybe it can do the same to someone else.
Dear X, You Don't Own Me - Disciple
I know I'm not the best friend. Lord knows the many times I've said this, and the thousands of times I've thought it. I still can't decide if this is realization or naivety.
Everyone is not the same. This contradicts what I wrote about earlier, but it's true. I'm still tired of being grouped in with people. Why can't I be my own person? I wish I could be that one friend that likes everyone. Cuz I do like everyone. Hell, I love everyone. But I'm still pushed away. Do I not try? I think I do. Am I a nuisance? Probably. But I do try. At least, I did.
I'm not gonna be that girl anymore. And it wasn't the preacher on the TV telling me that my sins shouldn't hold me down. It wasn't the outline of Psalm 51 that I wrote last night for Bible class that told me I should repent my sins and ask for cleanliness. It was a song.
When this song came on my 8tracks, I stopped to listen to it, which is strange because I usually just let the music play in the background. But I listened, and I began to cry. Not because the song is sad.
But because it made me feel strong.
I'm tired of being pushed around. Tired of being judged by actions that aren't my own. I still feel like I'm being grouped in with other people, people who aren't like me. Sometimes groups are okay, but this is different. I'm being judged because of other people, and I'm sick of it. But why should I change because of it?
For you out there, if you read this, you know who you are. I'm the same as you. But you're stronger than I am. I gave in. But don't treat me like them. Please. I don't think I deserve that.
For anyone out there, anyone I tried for, I'm not sorry for trying. I don't regret it. But I'm tired of being ignored for pouring my heart it to you. I feel like the best thing to do is simply curl in on myself, because that seems like the only solution at this point.
I'm still going to love everyone. I don't think I'll ever stop. I want to be everyone's friend.
But I guess that depends on them, not me.
I can't add a link, but please listen to this song. You don't have to, of course, but it really helped me, so maybe it can do the same to someone else.
Dear X, You Don't Own Me - Disciple
Thursday, November 21, 2013
It's all the things we can't explain that make us human.
"We live in a house made of each other, and if that sounds strange that's because it is."
Everybody, every single human being, will suffer at some point in their life. Maybe it's the loss of a loved one, a bad test grade, a so-called "friend" tossing them away. No matter how great the force is, we're all the same. We all go through it. Some of us are crushed under the weight. That's how strong it is. It smashes hope to pieces. It makes even the kindest, most amazing human being feel like an insignificant piece of dirt. But we move on.
If we let suffering bring us down, then we will truly have nothing left. Letting it win is giving up every ounce of hope you still have, hope that can't be replaced.
When people suffer, they tend to hide away, believing that no one notices or cares. They put on a mask that hides their true feelings, relying on their "everything's okay" face to get them through life. They hide within this facade and decide it's better there, where no one can hurt them but themselves. I've been behind this facade too many times, and I still never learn my lesson. Why should I burden someone else with my problems? Isn't it easier to just deny my need for help and simply pretend to be okay? That's not lying to my friends, is it? That's not betraying there trust and hurting their feelings, right?
I'm tired of people curling in on themselves because they don't think anyone can help them. Thousands of people commit suicide because they refuse to look for help, going to such lengths by denying help if it is offered. The truth of it is, every single human suffers, and whether the force is strong or simple, it's all the same. We all fight the same battles, so why don't we fight together? Why do we shut out everyone who could help?
I don't mean any offense to anyone, and I don't hate anyone for it, but I feel hurt by this. It feels like selfishness. You're really so stubborn to stay miserable, aren't you? You won't let me help. Isn't that what you want? You want it to stop? Maybe I can make that happen. Even if I can't, a little support could help you, right? But no, I can't even do that much, can I? What kind of person am I if I can't even comfort one of my closest friends?
In truth, this isn't a spur-of-the-moment post. This is going out to someone who I think has been suffering greatly as of late. Someone who doesn't think anyone else cares to notice.
So yeah, it makes me feel like crap. It makes me feel like a lousy friend. Because true friends know that they are always welcome, no matter the circumstances. It's not rude. It's not harmful. It hurts more to never have a chance with you.
I just want it to be like the old days.
Lyrics:
Human- Civil Twilight
Tiny Glowing Screens Part 2- Watsky
Everybody, every single human being, will suffer at some point in their life. Maybe it's the loss of a loved one, a bad test grade, a so-called "friend" tossing them away. No matter how great the force is, we're all the same. We all go through it. Some of us are crushed under the weight. That's how strong it is. It smashes hope to pieces. It makes even the kindest, most amazing human being feel like an insignificant piece of dirt. But we move on.
If we let suffering bring us down, then we will truly have nothing left. Letting it win is giving up every ounce of hope you still have, hope that can't be replaced.
When people suffer, they tend to hide away, believing that no one notices or cares. They put on a mask that hides their true feelings, relying on their "everything's okay" face to get them through life. They hide within this facade and decide it's better there, where no one can hurt them but themselves. I've been behind this facade too many times, and I still never learn my lesson. Why should I burden someone else with my problems? Isn't it easier to just deny my need for help and simply pretend to be okay? That's not lying to my friends, is it? That's not betraying there trust and hurting their feelings, right?
I'm tired of people curling in on themselves because they don't think anyone can help them. Thousands of people commit suicide because they refuse to look for help, going to such lengths by denying help if it is offered. The truth of it is, every single human suffers, and whether the force is strong or simple, it's all the same. We all fight the same battles, so why don't we fight together? Why do we shut out everyone who could help?
I don't mean any offense to anyone, and I don't hate anyone for it, but I feel hurt by this. It feels like selfishness. You're really so stubborn to stay miserable, aren't you? You won't let me help. Isn't that what you want? You want it to stop? Maybe I can make that happen. Even if I can't, a little support could help you, right? But no, I can't even do that much, can I? What kind of person am I if I can't even comfort one of my closest friends?
In truth, this isn't a spur-of-the-moment post. This is going out to someone who I think has been suffering greatly as of late. Someone who doesn't think anyone else cares to notice.
So yeah, it makes me feel like crap. It makes me feel like a lousy friend. Because true friends know that they are always welcome, no matter the circumstances. It's not rude. It's not harmful. It hurts more to never have a chance with you.
I just want it to be like the old days.
Lyrics:
Human- Civil Twilight
Tiny Glowing Screens Part 2- Watsky
Saturday, November 16, 2013
If I stumble, they're gonna eat me alive
"If we're still alive, my regrets are few.
If my life is mine, what shouldn't I do?"
I feel like I'm drowning.
Figuratively, of course, but it's still scary. It's as if I'm floating in the ocean, and every wrong move I make is more water entering my lungs. There's no point in trying to swim up to the surface. There's truly nothing I can do but wait for that last mistake, the final mouthful of water, that ends it completely. I don't have any say in it at all.
This is what I hate about myself. Don't get me wrong, I hate myself for a lot of reasons, but this is one of the main ones, my biggest fear. I'm afraid of being rejected. And lately, that's been happening. A lot.
There's a difference between being alone and being alone. I love being by myself, just me and my iPod and a good book. That's by my own choice. It's my escape.
But being rejected? It's being alone in the knowledge that no one, not one person wants to be with you. And that, to me, is terrifying.
It's happened enough times already. I've basically forgotten all of my childhood friends except a certain few who wish me a Happy Birthday, if they even remember to do that much. The first years of high school were great. I loved being able to sit down at the same table as all my friends, being able to look at them all and talk and laugh with them every day for lunch. But now that we have the option of off-campus lunch, I never get to see any of them anymore. I see them maybe once a day and muster a hello, but I want more than that. I feel like they're all getting torn away from me.
I guess I can't blame anyone but myself. It's my own fault, I suppose. I just wish I was strong enough to have control over my own life, but I feel like I don't even have that much. I'm controlled by my own weakness, my desire to be wanted by at least one person, to be needed by them. And because of that, I feel like I've lost everyone else.
I'm not quite sure where this is going. It just feels good to get it all out. I can't stand the idea of losing anyone, but it's as if I have to choose between one or the other. I can lose them, or I can lose her. And I can't bear losing either.
The water holds me down, putting pressure on my body and keeping me far beneath the surface. It's dark here, and when I think I see a light out of the corner of my eye, it's gone when I turn towards it. Water pours into my lungs each time I try and fail.
I feel like I'm drowning.
Song: Help, I'm Alive Artist: Metric
If my life is mine, what shouldn't I do?"
I feel like I'm drowning.
Figuratively, of course, but it's still scary. It's as if I'm floating in the ocean, and every wrong move I make is more water entering my lungs. There's no point in trying to swim up to the surface. There's truly nothing I can do but wait for that last mistake, the final mouthful of water, that ends it completely. I don't have any say in it at all.
This is what I hate about myself. Don't get me wrong, I hate myself for a lot of reasons, but this is one of the main ones, my biggest fear. I'm afraid of being rejected. And lately, that's been happening. A lot.
There's a difference between being alone and being alone. I love being by myself, just me and my iPod and a good book. That's by my own choice. It's my escape.
But being rejected? It's being alone in the knowledge that no one, not one person wants to be with you. And that, to me, is terrifying.
It's happened enough times already. I've basically forgotten all of my childhood friends except a certain few who wish me a Happy Birthday, if they even remember to do that much. The first years of high school were great. I loved being able to sit down at the same table as all my friends, being able to look at them all and talk and laugh with them every day for lunch. But now that we have the option of off-campus lunch, I never get to see any of them anymore. I see them maybe once a day and muster a hello, but I want more than that. I feel like they're all getting torn away from me.
I guess I can't blame anyone but myself. It's my own fault, I suppose. I just wish I was strong enough to have control over my own life, but I feel like I don't even have that much. I'm controlled by my own weakness, my desire to be wanted by at least one person, to be needed by them. And because of that, I feel like I've lost everyone else.
I'm not quite sure where this is going. It just feels good to get it all out. I can't stand the idea of losing anyone, but it's as if I have to choose between one or the other. I can lose them, or I can lose her. And I can't bear losing either.
The water holds me down, putting pressure on my body and keeping me far beneath the surface. It's dark here, and when I think I see a light out of the corner of my eye, it's gone when I turn towards it. Water pours into my lungs each time I try and fail.
I feel like I'm drowning.
Song: Help, I'm Alive Artist: Metric
Wednesday, October 23, 2013
Normal Girl, Normal Knees
"I don't wanna be 'the bee's knees'. I don't wanna be any kind of 'knees'! I just wanna be a
normal girl, with normal knees."
I was tempted to start this off with a keyboard smash, but I figured that wouldn't be the best approach. Don't be surprised if one appears later in this post.
Guuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuys. I'm floundering. I'm like a floppy pancake. There's just an enormous amount of stuff going on, good and bad and annoying and awesome, and it's just...I.....mehhh.
Okay. I'll start off with the fact that I should be doing homework, but how can I think about that when there's so much going on in my mind?
School is weird. Basically it's a mix of easy classes, hard classes, too much homework, and people friends that I want to be able to do stuff with all the time but can't, sometimes because of other friends being involved or stuff like that. So really, it's an enormous stress pool.(hehe. get it. instead of cesspool. hehe. hehehe. >.> )
There's that, and then there's Halloween, Animazement, various future cons, and cosplays to worry about. Ugh. COSPLAY. To have so many expectations and zero money is a huge downer. Hm...let's see. What else.
Oh! Freaking shows nowadays! Between Supernatural, Walking Dead, OUAT, Tomorrow People, and Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., that leaves a good, oh, fifteen minutes for homework? Maybe? I'm exaggerating, of course, but still, when I put the two together, shows are more important that homework. (JK. Kinda.)
And I've recently caught up with Rooster Teeth's RWBY, which is AMAZING. That's what the quote above is from. RWBY is also the source of my new dream cosplays >.< necesito dinero.
AND LAST BUT NOT LEAST.
(i knew this would come up. so did you)
Let's talk about him.
What? Why not? Nothing better to do, am I right? Of course I am.
SO basically it has gotten to the point where we can walk around in public holding hands and he puts his arm around me and I've confirmed with him that he doesn't like any girls at his school and I JUST ASGHDGASJDHALSD;K;LJDLHAOUEYORYOU;AHJDBN3I273HEJBJKADBKJBKBCKBAKBCANTCANTCANTCANTCANTCANTCANTCANTCANTCANTCANT
and that's basically it. Good talk.
SO that gif was next to this one and I just...
Yeh. I'm just gonna stop while I'm ahead.
Mehhhhhhhhhhhhhhh bye.
Squiggs out.
P.s. Gonna start planning out a music post, so be on the watch, dear readers.
Quote by: Ruby Rose, RWBY
normal girl, with normal knees."
I was tempted to start this off with a keyboard smash, but I figured that wouldn't be the best approach. Don't be surprised if one appears later in this post.
Guuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuys. I'm floundering. I'm like a floppy pancake. There's just an enormous amount of stuff going on, good and bad and annoying and awesome, and it's just...I.....mehhh.
Okay. I'll start off with the fact that I should be doing homework, but how can I think about that when there's so much going on in my mind?
School is weird. Basically it's a mix of easy classes, hard classes, too much homework, and people friends that I want to be able to do stuff with all the time but can't, sometimes because of other friends being involved or stuff like that. So really, it's an enormous stress pool.(hehe. get it. instead of cesspool. hehe. hehehe. >.> )
There's that, and then there's Halloween, Animazement, various future cons, and cosplays to worry about. Ugh. COSPLAY. To have so many expectations and zero money is a huge downer. Hm...let's see. What else.
Oh! Freaking shows nowadays! Between Supernatural, Walking Dead, OUAT, Tomorrow People, and Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., that leaves a good, oh, fifteen minutes for homework? Maybe? I'm exaggerating, of course, but still, when I put the two together, shows are more important that homework. (JK. Kinda.)
And I've recently caught up with Rooster Teeth's RWBY, which is AMAZING. That's what the quote above is from. RWBY is also the source of my new dream cosplays >.< necesito dinero.
AND LAST BUT NOT LEAST.
(i knew this would come up. so did you)
Let's talk about him.
What? Why not? Nothing better to do, am I right? Of course I am.
SO basically it has gotten to the point where we can walk around in public holding hands and he puts his arm around me and I've confirmed with him that he doesn't like any girls at his school and I JUST ASGHDGASJDHALSD;K;LJDLHAOUEYORYOU;AHJDBN3I273HEJBJKADBKJBKBCKBAKBCANTCANTCANTCANTCANTCANTCANTCANTCANTCANTCANT
and that's basically it. Good talk.
SO that gif was next to this one and I just...
Mehhhhhhhhhhhhhhh bye.
Squiggs out.
P.s. Gonna start planning out a music post, so be on the watch, dear readers.
Quote by: Ruby Rose, RWBY
Saturday, September 7, 2013
what is "RATIONAL" ?
"Lay off your rhetoric, sir, please, your flattery is lost on me."
Okay, so this is another one of my "life" posts, so brace yourselves. Things have been kind of stressful for my lately, and this would be completely normal, really, if it were different circumstances. But it's been bugging me, even though I'm not really involved. At least, I don't think I am.
Anyway, recently I've been hearing a lot of junk about my friend, who, let's face it, can be difficult. She can be very difficult. She's a hard-headed, sarcastic, stubborn as hell chick with a horrendous attitude when it comes to lack of sleep and food. She's been like this for as long as I can remember, and I thought people had learned to put up with her after all these years.
I was wrong.
Truly, I thought that, after middle school, the drama would finally end, but it's still here, always tugging at the back of everyone's minds. And finally, FINALLY, people are showing their true colors on how they feel about this girl. And I hate the results.
Most have told me that they're sick of putting up with her, how her sarcasm "hurts their feelings"(-.-), how she's never kind or anything, and how she's a horrible friend. I get the feeling that, from what I've heard, I'm being expected to choose between her or these other people. That, or I should feel stupid for being friends with her.
Well, guys, guess what. THIS IS STUPID. When did this become such a big deal? She's one person, she can't ruin your life, and besides, I don't think she cares to. No offense or anything, but she barely gives a crap what other people think of her.
While I'm at it, let me tell you something. Yes, maybe you have your feelings hurt when she's joking around, but she has feelings too, and I bet talking crap about her behind her back hurts those feelings a teensy weensy bit.
Sorry, but I'm not choosing between anyone. I don't care if you hate her, that doesn't give me a reason not to be friends with her. That doesn't mean I can't be friends with you, but if my being friends with her bugs you, then sorry, but too bad. If that kind of thing bothers you, that's really childish. This entire ordeal is childish.
If it clears anything up, I have something to say about it. Yes, everything I said about her being stubborn, cranky and sarcastic is true, but that's what makes her amazing. She doesn't pretend to be kind when she doesn't want to be kind, she doesn't create that constant facade of a normal nice girl who's always polite and junk, she's just herself. And she's my best friend. Yes, she's sarcastic. Yes, she can be mean about it. Would you like to know why? Most likely, it's not because she hates you. This may be the case, since she doesn't particularly like a certain many people, but she's trying to protect herself.
She doesn't want to be hurt, and I believe she lives in constant fear of it. So she puts up walls that make her emotionless to what other people think, and I don't think she can trust anyone. One really can't ever trust another, because anyone can be a traitor. Anyone can say that one thing, spread that one rumor, and a friendship can be lost. She's had so many people like this in her life, people that pretend to be her friend and then completely blow her off, so please, go easy on her. As one of the people she can always trust, I can't, and won't, be separated from her.
She's my best friend. She's a good person, and yet you guys make her out to be this horrible person who can't have any friends. What do you think she views you as when you think like that?
Please let all of this go. Because, trust me, when you hurt her, you hurt me as well. If you want to do that, fine, but know that if she goes down, I'm going with her. It's your choice.
It's a simple choice, at that.
Song: What Is Rational? Artist: Hot Hot Heat
Okay, so this is another one of my "life" posts, so brace yourselves. Things have been kind of stressful for my lately, and this would be completely normal, really, if it were different circumstances. But it's been bugging me, even though I'm not really involved. At least, I don't think I am.
Anyway, recently I've been hearing a lot of junk about my friend, who, let's face it, can be difficult. She can be very difficult. She's a hard-headed, sarcastic, stubborn as hell chick with a horrendous attitude when it comes to lack of sleep and food. She's been like this for as long as I can remember, and I thought people had learned to put up with her after all these years.
I was wrong.
Truly, I thought that, after middle school, the drama would finally end, but it's still here, always tugging at the back of everyone's minds. And finally, FINALLY, people are showing their true colors on how they feel about this girl. And I hate the results.
Most have told me that they're sick of putting up with her, how her sarcasm "hurts their feelings"(-.-), how she's never kind or anything, and how she's a horrible friend. I get the feeling that, from what I've heard, I'm being expected to choose between her or these other people. That, or I should feel stupid for being friends with her.
Well, guys, guess what. THIS IS STUPID. When did this become such a big deal? She's one person, she can't ruin your life, and besides, I don't think she cares to. No offense or anything, but she barely gives a crap what other people think of her.
While I'm at it, let me tell you something. Yes, maybe you have your feelings hurt when she's joking around, but she has feelings too, and I bet talking crap about her behind her back hurts those feelings a teensy weensy bit.
Sorry, but I'm not choosing between anyone. I don't care if you hate her, that doesn't give me a reason not to be friends with her. That doesn't mean I can't be friends with you, but if my being friends with her bugs you, then sorry, but too bad. If that kind of thing bothers you, that's really childish. This entire ordeal is childish.
If it clears anything up, I have something to say about it. Yes, everything I said about her being stubborn, cranky and sarcastic is true, but that's what makes her amazing. She doesn't pretend to be kind when she doesn't want to be kind, she doesn't create that constant facade of a normal nice girl who's always polite and junk, she's just herself. And she's my best friend. Yes, she's sarcastic. Yes, she can be mean about it. Would you like to know why? Most likely, it's not because she hates you. This may be the case, since she doesn't particularly like a certain many people, but she's trying to protect herself.
She doesn't want to be hurt, and I believe she lives in constant fear of it. So she puts up walls that make her emotionless to what other people think, and I don't think she can trust anyone. One really can't ever trust another, because anyone can be a traitor. Anyone can say that one thing, spread that one rumor, and a friendship can be lost. She's had so many people like this in her life, people that pretend to be her friend and then completely blow her off, so please, go easy on her. As one of the people she can always trust, I can't, and won't, be separated from her.
She's my best friend. She's a good person, and yet you guys make her out to be this horrible person who can't have any friends. What do you think she views you as when you think like that?
Please let all of this go. Because, trust me, when you hurt her, you hurt me as well. If you want to do that, fine, but know that if she goes down, I'm going with her. It's your choice.
It's a simple choice, at that.
Song: What Is Rational? Artist: Hot Hot Heat
Wednesday, August 21, 2013
Young Blood;
"Put on your war paint..."
If there's one thing I hate, and know that I despise a great many things, it's transferring schools mid-semester. I already hate transferring schools, which I've had to make a habit of due to my dad's work, but doing it in September is worse. I don't even see the point of it, as I take extra classes online, mostly because of what I miss moving from school to school, but my dad insists. I'm pretty sure it's part of his curriculum of screwing up my life. And no matter how much I argue, I'm always right back here, sitting in an office chair waiting to be handed my schedule. I sigh and hug my backpack to my chest, resting my chin on it's button-clad fabric.
"Miss Kiselev?"
I look up at the secretary standing in one of the doorways and slowly raise my hand. She smiles mechanically and hands me a sheet of paper. "Here's your schedule, locker number and password. Don't lose it, now."
"Thanks," I mutter, not really meeting her eyes.
"Do you need a guide to help you to class?"
I glance at the sheet. "I think I'll be alright."
With that, I leave the office, letting the door shut soundlessly behind me. I wander the halls, looking for the room my third period class is in. Luckily, my flat-soled converse make almost no noise at all against the floor, making no echo to float down the eerily comatose halls. When I make it to the room, I peer through the thin rectangular window set into the wooden door. I see the teacher, a man probably in his early thirties, talking at the board. Not good. I hate disrupting the class. Not because of the fact I'm disrupting, but because when I do all eyes are on me. Taking a deep breath that suffocates me anyway, I turn the knob and open the door.
Bam. As if a bomb goes off when I open the door, every head turns to me. The teacher, Mr. Penman, looks surprised for a moment before softening and asking, "Are you our new transfer student?"
Trying not to look at the rest of the class, I nod and hand him the pass the office secretary had given me before I left. He looks at it, then smiles and says, "Welcome to Brierfield, Miss Kiselev. You can have a seat over there by Mr. Kendrick."
I face the class and panic for a moment before a boy near the back of the class raises his hand in a sort of half-wave. I don't look at his face, only clutch the corner of my schedule and make my way down the aisle to the desk I'm assigned. I sit, and finally the weight of the eyes on me lifts, and I take a deep breath and try to let the fluttering in my stomach settle down. Mr. Penman has started teaching the class, informing at me without turning from the board that the class is studying the fourth chapter of a book called The Great Gatsby. I feel a wave of relief when I realize I had read that book already, having read many of the books typically read by high school classes. I don't have the book with me, but after hearing a bit of the teacher's lesson, I realize where they are in the book and know what's going to happen next, so I relax in my seat and study my schedule. I glance from it to the clock and back, and I notice that there's only five minutes left of third period. I sigh softly at the fact that I'll have to do all of that again fourth period, then fifth, and so on.
Someone taps on my desk, and I look to see the boy Mr. Penman had identified as "Kendrick". He smiles at me, and I think I try to mirror it but I'm not sure how it looks because the nervous butterflies are back. He points to my schedule, and I realize he wants to see it. I slide it to him, and he lays it on his desk and reads it. I focus on my desk for the last few minutes of class. When the bell rings, I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding and get up from my desk. The Kendrick boy does at the same time, handing me my schedule.
"Alright, you win the prize of 'most difficult names'," he says, still smiling. My face feels hot, but I manage to ask, "Why's that?"
He points to my schedule, where the name "Athanasia" is printed. My name. "Oh, that."
"I don't even know how to pronounce that."
"It's not that hard. Ah-thahn-ay-see-uh."
He raises an eyebrow at me, and I shrug. "My dad calls me Sia."
His smile widens. "Much easier."
He holds out his hand. "Colin Kendrick."
I manage a wholehearted smile and take it. "Sia Kiselev."
He shakes his head, still smiling. "That's one crazy name. Anyway," he starts toward the door, swinging his backpack over his shoulder. I find myself following close behind him, "We actually have a few classes together, including fourth period. I can walk you there, if you want, and show you around the rest of the school."
We're in the hallway now, and he's turned to face me, that never-faltering smile still on his lips. He has nice, thin lips, and dark blue eyes widened under black shaggy hair. He's a good foot taller than I, but that's not surprising since I'm generally short for my age. I give him a small smile and say, "Sure."
He gives a small breath of happy laughter and tosses his head, motioning me to follow him. I trot the short distance to his side and match his pace as he starts a conversation about me.
Where am I transferring from? A public school in Michigan.
Why the sudden transfer? My dad's work causes us to move a lot.
What's my dad do? He's a sort of scientist. Computer science or something like that.
I don't know what kind for sure? He doesn't like to talk about his work, and he's busy a lot, so when we do talk, that's not the desired subject to talk about.
Colin thinks about that for a moment, then says, "I know how that is."
I cock my head at him, but he just continues with questions.
"Do you do any sports?"
I shrug. "I'm good at sports, I guess, but I don't participate in any teams. I like watching."
"Sweet!" He says, grinning, "Maybe you can come see my baseball game Thursday? It's one of the last ones of the season."
"Sure, I'll try to make it."
He stops in front of a classroom and bids me enter. I smile and walk past him, and I take a look around for two empty seats. There, two rows back, near the window. I motion for Colin to follow me and weave my way through the desks before taking a seat. Colin sits to my left, but there's still an empty seat to my right. Colin continues talking to me, but I'm too busy smiling to reply. I feel awesome! I've finally managed to make something of a friend on the first day of school. I laugh at something Colin says before I hear someone move into the desk beside me. I turn and see a boy there, setting his backpack against his seat, and he catches my eye. He nods to me, smiling slightly. Colin leans around me to see the other boy. "Oh, hey Elliot. This is new girl, Sia."
The boy, Elliot, straightens and holds out his hand to me. "Elliot Hynes."
Just like with Colin, I took his hand and shook it. "Sia Kiselev."
He has a nice smile, not constant like Colin, but nice. He let's go and turns to the front of the room, and Colin goes on to tell me that Elliot is on the baseball team like him, then quiets as the teacher walks in. I'm silent through all this because I'm wondering why, when I shook Elliot's hand, he was intent on staring at my arm.
((Author's note: Hey y'all! Just a little something I whipped up when I was bored. Funny that inspiration finally comes at the beginning of the busiest school year ever. >.< but I'm actually having a really good time. It's nice to finally be an upper classman, and going off campus for lunch is thrilling -even if it is only a few minutes down the road to where we eat. Anyway, just a little snippet of a story I intend on continuing :) thanks for reading. Comments are welcome. ))
If there's one thing I hate, and know that I despise a great many things, it's transferring schools mid-semester. I already hate transferring schools, which I've had to make a habit of due to my dad's work, but doing it in September is worse. I don't even see the point of it, as I take extra classes online, mostly because of what I miss moving from school to school, but my dad insists. I'm pretty sure it's part of his curriculum of screwing up my life. And no matter how much I argue, I'm always right back here, sitting in an office chair waiting to be handed my schedule. I sigh and hug my backpack to my chest, resting my chin on it's button-clad fabric.
"Miss Kiselev?"
I look up at the secretary standing in one of the doorways and slowly raise my hand. She smiles mechanically and hands me a sheet of paper. "Here's your schedule, locker number and password. Don't lose it, now."
"Thanks," I mutter, not really meeting her eyes.
"Do you need a guide to help you to class?"
I glance at the sheet. "I think I'll be alright."
With that, I leave the office, letting the door shut soundlessly behind me. I wander the halls, looking for the room my third period class is in. Luckily, my flat-soled converse make almost no noise at all against the floor, making no echo to float down the eerily comatose halls. When I make it to the room, I peer through the thin rectangular window set into the wooden door. I see the teacher, a man probably in his early thirties, talking at the board. Not good. I hate disrupting the class. Not because of the fact I'm disrupting, but because when I do all eyes are on me. Taking a deep breath that suffocates me anyway, I turn the knob and open the door.
Bam. As if a bomb goes off when I open the door, every head turns to me. The teacher, Mr. Penman, looks surprised for a moment before softening and asking, "Are you our new transfer student?"
Trying not to look at the rest of the class, I nod and hand him the pass the office secretary had given me before I left. He looks at it, then smiles and says, "Welcome to Brierfield, Miss Kiselev. You can have a seat over there by Mr. Kendrick."
I face the class and panic for a moment before a boy near the back of the class raises his hand in a sort of half-wave. I don't look at his face, only clutch the corner of my schedule and make my way down the aisle to the desk I'm assigned. I sit, and finally the weight of the eyes on me lifts, and I take a deep breath and try to let the fluttering in my stomach settle down. Mr. Penman has started teaching the class, informing at me without turning from the board that the class is studying the fourth chapter of a book called The Great Gatsby. I feel a wave of relief when I realize I had read that book already, having read many of the books typically read by high school classes. I don't have the book with me, but after hearing a bit of the teacher's lesson, I realize where they are in the book and know what's going to happen next, so I relax in my seat and study my schedule. I glance from it to the clock and back, and I notice that there's only five minutes left of third period. I sigh softly at the fact that I'll have to do all of that again fourth period, then fifth, and so on.
Someone taps on my desk, and I look to see the boy Mr. Penman had identified as "Kendrick". He smiles at me, and I think I try to mirror it but I'm not sure how it looks because the nervous butterflies are back. He points to my schedule, and I realize he wants to see it. I slide it to him, and he lays it on his desk and reads it. I focus on my desk for the last few minutes of class. When the bell rings, I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding and get up from my desk. The Kendrick boy does at the same time, handing me my schedule.
"Alright, you win the prize of 'most difficult names'," he says, still smiling. My face feels hot, but I manage to ask, "Why's that?"
He points to my schedule, where the name "Athanasia" is printed. My name. "Oh, that."
"I don't even know how to pronounce that."
"It's not that hard. Ah-thahn-ay-see-uh."
He raises an eyebrow at me, and I shrug. "My dad calls me Sia."
His smile widens. "Much easier."
He holds out his hand. "Colin Kendrick."
I manage a wholehearted smile and take it. "Sia Kiselev."
He shakes his head, still smiling. "That's one crazy name. Anyway," he starts toward the door, swinging his backpack over his shoulder. I find myself following close behind him, "We actually have a few classes together, including fourth period. I can walk you there, if you want, and show you around the rest of the school."
We're in the hallway now, and he's turned to face me, that never-faltering smile still on his lips. He has nice, thin lips, and dark blue eyes widened under black shaggy hair. He's a good foot taller than I, but that's not surprising since I'm generally short for my age. I give him a small smile and say, "Sure."
He gives a small breath of happy laughter and tosses his head, motioning me to follow him. I trot the short distance to his side and match his pace as he starts a conversation about me.
Where am I transferring from? A public school in Michigan.
Why the sudden transfer? My dad's work causes us to move a lot.
What's my dad do? He's a sort of scientist. Computer science or something like that.
I don't know what kind for sure? He doesn't like to talk about his work, and he's busy a lot, so when we do talk, that's not the desired subject to talk about.
Colin thinks about that for a moment, then says, "I know how that is."
I cock my head at him, but he just continues with questions.
"Do you do any sports?"
I shrug. "I'm good at sports, I guess, but I don't participate in any teams. I like watching."
"Sweet!" He says, grinning, "Maybe you can come see my baseball game Thursday? It's one of the last ones of the season."
"Sure, I'll try to make it."
He stops in front of a classroom and bids me enter. I smile and walk past him, and I take a look around for two empty seats. There, two rows back, near the window. I motion for Colin to follow me and weave my way through the desks before taking a seat. Colin sits to my left, but there's still an empty seat to my right. Colin continues talking to me, but I'm too busy smiling to reply. I feel awesome! I've finally managed to make something of a friend on the first day of school. I laugh at something Colin says before I hear someone move into the desk beside me. I turn and see a boy there, setting his backpack against his seat, and he catches my eye. He nods to me, smiling slightly. Colin leans around me to see the other boy. "Oh, hey Elliot. This is new girl, Sia."
The boy, Elliot, straightens and holds out his hand to me. "Elliot Hynes."
Just like with Colin, I took his hand and shook it. "Sia Kiselev."
He has a nice smile, not constant like Colin, but nice. He let's go and turns to the front of the room, and Colin goes on to tell me that Elliot is on the baseball team like him, then quiets as the teacher walks in. I'm silent through all this because I'm wondering why, when I shook Elliot's hand, he was intent on staring at my arm.
((Author's note: Hey y'all! Just a little something I whipped up when I was bored. Funny that inspiration finally comes at the beginning of the busiest school year ever. >.< but I'm actually having a really good time. It's nice to finally be an upper classman, and going off campus for lunch is thrilling -even if it is only a few minutes down the road to where we eat. Anyway, just a little snippet of a story I intend on continuing :) thanks for reading. Comments are welcome. ))
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