Another holiday and so soon! Very exciting, I hope everyone out there enjoyed the day (or Beautiful Creatures, now in theaters!) and got to snuggle with someone close- whether it be your partner, your dog, or you book/movie crush. I, personally, snuggled with my dog.
Do you remember that story I posted on Mardi Gras? Well, in all truth, I came up with it as I went along and I thought I should continue it today, although this will probably be the last you hear of Angela, Jason, and the dragon named Beethoven. So, in honor of Valentine's Day, here is the same story, from Jason's point of view. Enjoy!
My Queen, Don't Cry (JASON)
The gym was crowded with people. Everywhere he looked there were dancers, and lights, and music that pounded in his skull. She had just disappeared, and he knew he wasn't the only one looking for her. Besides the mass of students who considered her their idol, the White Man had set his henchmen on her trail as well. It was about time he told her the truth, but he needed to find her first.
<<The bathroom, under the stairs.>> Beethoven's voice announced in his head like a loudspeaker.
Pushing past partygoers and a couple making out he made it out of the overcrowded, under staffed, gymnasium and into the hallway where a few other couples were loitering and doing more then just dancing.
The bathroom under the stairs was so old that only the janitors used it. And the rare person. Why would Angela be in there? He grimaced at what could be going on. The place was notorious for first times.
With a second's hesitation he pushed the door open and tried to hide the fact that he had been terrified that he might not find her- or that if he did find her it would be under uncomfortable circumstances. But as soon as he shot in he could see her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes were red, and while it was almost imperceptible, there were splotches on top of her cheeks. His heart broke right then and there.
As the door shut itself, the outside world dissappeared. There was no more music, no more strobe lights, and it was just him and her. Her and him.
As he took in the rest of the room- she hadn't turned around- he saw the tiara Sophia had just crowned her with, in the corner, smudged. Jason took a step forward. There was nothing he could ask, nothing she would answer, and nothing he couldn't tell from her appearance. She wasn't alright.
"Can I help?" those first words didn't even begin to sum up the churning emotions bouncing around in him.
No answer, but the tears started anew. He didn't think she even noticed.
He kneeled down and picked up the crown. There was a dent in the side that he hadn't noticed before. "Dlo fo srewop, won ti xif," he murmered the anciant Babylonian, fixing it. The small amount of magic he had was swept out of him. It would be renewed after a good night's sleep. Then Jason took the crown and put it back on Angela's head. It looked perfect.
<<You look beautiful.>> He murmered in her mind. He hadn't meant to say it, but it had come out.
Angela closed her eyes in the mirror. <<Beautiful on the outside, ugly on the inside.>> she thought. Even though it wasn't directed at him, he heard it.
This broke his heart into even more pieces. He wrapped his arms around her. <<That's not true.>>
"You're a dirty liar, Jason Smith," he smiled against her hair when she scolded him. He could hear the tears in her voice. She had turned to face him now.
He didn't like to see her like this. He raised one thumb and used it to wipe away the tears cascading down her cheeks. "My queen, don't cry," he whispered. He had no idea why he said those exact words, but they felt right, especcially seeing her dressed up like one in her scarlet gown and tiara.
And then she did something unbelievable. She stood up on her toes and kissed him. And he kissed her back. His arms encircled her, getting caught in her raven hair. This felt right.
But still, <<I need to tell you something.>>
Showing posts with label short story. Show all posts
Showing posts with label short story. Show all posts
Thursday, February 14, 2013
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
A Mardi Gras Story
Bonne fete Mardi Gras! Or, as some of you might call it, Fat Tuesday, the day where you stuff your face with all the good stuff. In honor of this pretty awesome day (and of me finding the plastic baby in my slice of cake) I decided I'd write a little Mardi Gras story for ya'll. And if you thought the statement in paranthesis was strange, let me explain: a little plastic baby Jesus or king is placed in a slice of cake, which everyone then takes a peice of. Whoever ends up with the plastic thing gets to be king, or in my case, queen for the day and wears a paper crown. I am happy to say that I now have a purple crown. Strangely enough, when I walked into the room I thought to myself "Hey, today I'm going to find the little plastic baby in my slice of cake." I'm kinda psychic sometimes, I kid you not. Anyways, here's the story:
My Queen, Don't Cry
Angela looked in the mirror and saw that the splotchs around her eyes had disappeared. Her whole life she had been cursed with always having them present when she needed a good cry, and a good cry had been a long while in coming. That made her seem childish, and if she thought about it, it was. Only little children through temper tantrums and then hid in the washroom by the utility stairwell to hide it.
The sound of another person's presence rattled her and in the mirror's reflection she saw that Jason was now in here with her. When he opened the door the sound increased in volume, a bone-jarring beat that no one could hear themselves think in, and the strobe lights managed to leak around the corners. Purple, gold, green. They were headache inducing.
Jason didn't seem surprised to see the homecoming queen hiding away in the school's only unisex bathroom. She, on the other hand, was surprised to see him.
Normally she felt uncomfortable around boys, they were intrusive and rude. Her last boyfriend, Grant, had been that way. Apparently, the rest of the school didn't get the memo that they had broken up because he had been voted king, right next to her.
The tiara they had given her to wear had been cast on the ground, and she regretted the dent it had acquired, but Angela had never wanted it in the first place. She wasn't as perfect as everyone imagined, and she didn't like being the center of attention all the time. Before Jason had moved to the school that had been different, but seeing his reclusive way of life, and meeting a real-life dragon, had changed everything.
Jason came closer to her, but she still didn't turn around. He didn't ask, Are you OK?, or, What happened?, and she was fine with that. It wasn't in his nature to ask senseless questions. Beethoven, the dragon aforementioned, on the other hand, was far from against it. His voice rang in her mind.
<<Is everything all right?>>
She didn't dignify it with an answer because it would be too complicated and she wasn't supposed to be a complicated person.
"Can I help?" Jason's first words.
Again she didn't answer. Because he couldn't help, she had to get over this herself. Work it out herself. Her fists clenched, nuckles turning white, and a sob rose up in her throat. Her head pounded with the unreleased energy.
In the mirror she saw Jason kneel down and get something. The tiara. He picked it up, brushed it off, and whispered a few small words in anciant Babylon that fixed the dent immediately. Then he put it on her head. Like a cruel joke, it fit perfectly, as if it were tailored to belong.
<<You look beautiful.>> This time it wasn't the dragon in her head. It was Jason.
Her eyes closed so she couldn't see her reflection. Beautiful on the outside, but on the inside she was ugly.
<<That's not true.>> His arms closed around her.
Eyes opening she turned in his arms to look him in the eye.
"You're a dirty liar, Jason Smith," she said, her voice husky and throat raw. Her nose was plugged as well. Charming.
His arms came away from around her and a thumb pressed to her cheek. Wiping away a tear, she realized.
"My Queen, don't cry," he whispered.
And then she did something she could never have imagined doing in a thousand years. She stood on the tips of her toes and kissed Jason right on the mouth, in the middle of the unisex, utility stairwell bathroom. They kept kissing even as a couple girls came to clean their makeup. Someone snapped a picture, but she didn't care, because kissing Jason felt like she was doing penance, washing her sins away, and being reborn. No longer a dirty bully, snotty, spoiled brat, but someone who could have a heart and rule with it.
My Queen, Don't Cry
Angela looked in the mirror and saw that the splotchs around her eyes had disappeared. Her whole life she had been cursed with always having them present when she needed a good cry, and a good cry had been a long while in coming. That made her seem childish, and if she thought about it, it was. Only little children through temper tantrums and then hid in the washroom by the utility stairwell to hide it.
The sound of another person's presence rattled her and in the mirror's reflection she saw that Jason was now in here with her. When he opened the door the sound increased in volume, a bone-jarring beat that no one could hear themselves think in, and the strobe lights managed to leak around the corners. Purple, gold, green. They were headache inducing.
Jason didn't seem surprised to see the homecoming queen hiding away in the school's only unisex bathroom. She, on the other hand, was surprised to see him.
Normally she felt uncomfortable around boys, they were intrusive and rude. Her last boyfriend, Grant, had been that way. Apparently, the rest of the school didn't get the memo that they had broken up because he had been voted king, right next to her.
The tiara they had given her to wear had been cast on the ground, and she regretted the dent it had acquired, but Angela had never wanted it in the first place. She wasn't as perfect as everyone imagined, and she didn't like being the center of attention all the time. Before Jason had moved to the school that had been different, but seeing his reclusive way of life, and meeting a real-life dragon, had changed everything.
Jason came closer to her, but she still didn't turn around. He didn't ask, Are you OK?, or, What happened?, and she was fine with that. It wasn't in his nature to ask senseless questions. Beethoven, the dragon aforementioned, on the other hand, was far from against it. His voice rang in her mind.
<<Is everything all right?>>
She didn't dignify it with an answer because it would be too complicated and she wasn't supposed to be a complicated person.
"Can I help?" Jason's first words.
Again she didn't answer. Because he couldn't help, she had to get over this herself. Work it out herself. Her fists clenched, nuckles turning white, and a sob rose up in her throat. Her head pounded with the unreleased energy.
In the mirror she saw Jason kneel down and get something. The tiara. He picked it up, brushed it off, and whispered a few small words in anciant Babylon that fixed the dent immediately. Then he put it on her head. Like a cruel joke, it fit perfectly, as if it were tailored to belong.
<<You look beautiful.>> This time it wasn't the dragon in her head. It was Jason.
Her eyes closed so she couldn't see her reflection. Beautiful on the outside, but on the inside she was ugly.
<<That's not true.>> His arms closed around her.
Eyes opening she turned in his arms to look him in the eye.
"You're a dirty liar, Jason Smith," she said, her voice husky and throat raw. Her nose was plugged as well. Charming.
His arms came away from around her and a thumb pressed to her cheek. Wiping away a tear, she realized.
"My Queen, don't cry," he whispered.
And then she did something she could never have imagined doing in a thousand years. She stood on the tips of her toes and kissed Jason right on the mouth, in the middle of the unisex, utility stairwell bathroom. They kept kissing even as a couple girls came to clean their makeup. Someone snapped a picture, but she didn't care, because kissing Jason felt like she was doing penance, washing her sins away, and being reborn. No longer a dirty bully, snotty, spoiled brat, but someone who could have a heart and rule with it.
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