A/N: PG-13 for a reason people. Be prepared for sexual content. There is
also minor language plus mention of drugs and alcohol.
~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~
It's when your entire world crashes before your feet. It's when you cry with no reason. It's when all you need is the people that aren't there. It's hell, it's heaven, and it's not fair. But there's no escape. You'll sleep with it for eternity, until it soaks you into the ground with it.
It's life.
It was supposed to be special. That's what they all said, gazing at late nights of champagne and passion. There was supposed to be an endless night of nothing but pure moonlight and love. And when the pinkish fingers finally linger up to the sky, you're left with the touch, the feel of silky skin against your own. A girl had first times for everything, but this, by far, is supposed to be the special one, the one that sticks out, the one you never regret.
But there I was, regretting.
It was laughable, really. No one would ever expect it. Popular Kate Sanders meets some sort of sick joke sitcom, minus the laugh track and periodic corniness. It was blurred at the edges, like a faded flashback memory. And yet, it was the realest thing.
If there's one thing I learned in this lifetime, it was the easiest way to make something no big deal is to act like it wasn't a big deal. That whole treat-someone-like-a-criminal-and-they-become-one, only modified for any situation. Smoking pot, no big deal. You weren't destroying your life, because you said you weren't. It was the kind of control people like me life for. Grabbing your destiny by the reigns.
But this, this couldn't be played off as easily. My breath lingered in the back of my throat, my gift of gab suddenly plummeting. Was there anyway to sink into the ground and die right now without missing a moment?
If only I could have my entire future packaged in a small carry-out box so as I tumble off the cliff of life, I could see it momentarily without experiencing it.
It's wishes like that, that destroy people, eating them inside with the dead possibilities.
My perception was so clear, lying there under the worn navy blue comforter, I wondered if I could just stay there forever, away from my audience.
There was some famous Shakespeare quote about that in English. We analyzed it for days upon days. I, of course, was too busy passing notes with Claire about Danny's new bitchy girlfriend. But I got the general idea of people being frauds and just performing their parts for people to live up to society's standards, blah, blah, blah.
We also talked about paradigms in English. You know, the way you see things. I always pictured a paradigm shift as this big, dramatic moment with blood spilling and tears falling. But just at that moment, I had one. It was soft and gentle, like a small wave brushing against you. You almost don't notice until it's gone, and then you're left with this new pair of eyes.
Maybe I should have expected it. The night had gone unexpected already, why not throw in a new earth shattering factor?
There's only so much I can take.
A light clicking sound came clearer and I recognized it as typing.
When I was younger, I would go to my father's office and lay on this big leather couch he had there, closing my eyes. I never knew what he did while I zoned out, but there was always a light tinkering of classical music, and then his strong hands, typing quietly as he could on his laptop. Sometimes I could feel his eyes on me, and I imagined him smiling at me, remembering how much he cherished me and how glad he was to have me.
That was when I actually believed he loved me.
I opened my eyes, eyelashes filtering my view. I saw the hunched figure at a computer of some sort. I imagined him telling his internet buddies about sleeping with the head cheerleader. I almost laughed at the thought, though my entire view had shifted from pensive to grim.
Seeing him only confirmed it. I, Kate Sanders, queen bitch extraordinaire, had indeed slept with Larry Tudgeman.
@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@
A/N: Don't you want to be her? I'm continuing this with an explanation. I'm thinking four parts, but we never know where that crazy muse is taking me.
~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~
It's when your entire world crashes before your feet. It's when you cry with no reason. It's when all you need is the people that aren't there. It's hell, it's heaven, and it's not fair. But there's no escape. You'll sleep with it for eternity, until it soaks you into the ground with it.
It's life.
It was supposed to be special. That's what they all said, gazing at late nights of champagne and passion. There was supposed to be an endless night of nothing but pure moonlight and love. And when the pinkish fingers finally linger up to the sky, you're left with the touch, the feel of silky skin against your own. A girl had first times for everything, but this, by far, is supposed to be the special one, the one that sticks out, the one you never regret.
But there I was, regretting.
It was laughable, really. No one would ever expect it. Popular Kate Sanders meets some sort of sick joke sitcom, minus the laugh track and periodic corniness. It was blurred at the edges, like a faded flashback memory. And yet, it was the realest thing.
If there's one thing I learned in this lifetime, it was the easiest way to make something no big deal is to act like it wasn't a big deal. That whole treat-someone-like-a-criminal-and-they-become-one, only modified for any situation. Smoking pot, no big deal. You weren't destroying your life, because you said you weren't. It was the kind of control people like me life for. Grabbing your destiny by the reigns.
But this, this couldn't be played off as easily. My breath lingered in the back of my throat, my gift of gab suddenly plummeting. Was there anyway to sink into the ground and die right now without missing a moment?
If only I could have my entire future packaged in a small carry-out box so as I tumble off the cliff of life, I could see it momentarily without experiencing it.
It's wishes like that, that destroy people, eating them inside with the dead possibilities.
My perception was so clear, lying there under the worn navy blue comforter, I wondered if I could just stay there forever, away from my audience.
There was some famous Shakespeare quote about that in English. We analyzed it for days upon days. I, of course, was too busy passing notes with Claire about Danny's new bitchy girlfriend. But I got the general idea of people being frauds and just performing their parts for people to live up to society's standards, blah, blah, blah.
We also talked about paradigms in English. You know, the way you see things. I always pictured a paradigm shift as this big, dramatic moment with blood spilling and tears falling. But just at that moment, I had one. It was soft and gentle, like a small wave brushing against you. You almost don't notice until it's gone, and then you're left with this new pair of eyes.
Maybe I should have expected it. The night had gone unexpected already, why not throw in a new earth shattering factor?
There's only so much I can take.
A light clicking sound came clearer and I recognized it as typing.
When I was younger, I would go to my father's office and lay on this big leather couch he had there, closing my eyes. I never knew what he did while I zoned out, but there was always a light tinkering of classical music, and then his strong hands, typing quietly as he could on his laptop. Sometimes I could feel his eyes on me, and I imagined him smiling at me, remembering how much he cherished me and how glad he was to have me.
That was when I actually believed he loved me.
I opened my eyes, eyelashes filtering my view. I saw the hunched figure at a computer of some sort. I imagined him telling his internet buddies about sleeping with the head cheerleader. I almost laughed at the thought, though my entire view had shifted from pensive to grim.
Seeing him only confirmed it. I, Kate Sanders, queen bitch extraordinaire, had indeed slept with Larry Tudgeman.
@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@
A/N: Don't you want to be her? I'm continuing this with an explanation. I'm thinking four parts, but we never know where that crazy muse is taking me.