This story is told through the eyes of a clone named Vincent Van Gogh. The story takes place during the first episode of Clone High. If you haven't yet seen the show, I suggest you watch the first episode before you read on. Go see it on youtube! Trust me, you will enjoy it! Clone High is AWESOME!
Also, this is my first attempt at real fanfiction, so please go easy on me. I hope you enjoy "What It's Like to Be A Teenage Van Gogh: A Rope of Sand"
Who am I? Well, my name is Vincent Willem Van Gogh. The original, of course not, don't be foolish! A failure of a carbon copy, precisely! It's me, the new aged, cynical, angst ridden teenage Vincent!
But in my town I'm not so special for being known as 'Vincent Van Gogh', for there are many others just like me here in Exclamation USA. Other wondrous historical figures reside here; Abe Lincon, Cleopatra and Gandi just to name a few. We all attend Clone High, where delightfully wacky and unabashedly insane hijinx ensue. Sounds like a regular pitch for a primetime, animated sitcom on Teletoon doesn't it? But alas, this place, Clone High, really does exist. Oh how repugnant.
Of course I have not much reason to mope or fuss, for it would be 1000 times worse, if it weren't for Joan of Arcadia. She quite literally stands up for the little guy at every chance she gets! And me, being the funny 4'9 little Dutchman that I am, can say 'I know this first hand' with utter certainty and contentment.
Just a few months ago in History class, shortly before summer break, we were learning of the original Vincent's life. His aspirations, shortcomings, and yes even his relationships. I should have skipped class that day! To have your own clone father openly bashed by the figure of authority in the classroom should be considered criminal in a school such as this!
We read from a history textbook entitled "Life of Van Gogh: Seriously Pitiful" I could already tell were this was going. Mr. Sheepman opened to page 26 and began to read aloud."Van Gogh was quite frankly awful with women; he often kept his love bottled up inside him. But when he could no longer contain his passion for a certain someone named 'Kay Voss', and blurted out about what he felt about her, she delt him a mortal blow. "No! No! Never!" She replied, words he could not forget. "No! No! Never!" stupidly, he took this as a maybe. So he followed her to Amsterdam, pushed his way into her house, but she wasn't there. She was hiding from him. So he put his hand on an open flame and told her family he would keep it there until he saw her. Her uncle simply just stood up and blew the flame out. It was a ridiculous, but critical event."
I can hear they're laughter in my mind just as I speak of this day.
Gandhi: "HA! What a loooser!"
Abe: "Gee he really was bananas"
Cleo: "What are you talking about 'WAS'? He is Van Gogh, so therefore he, himself did this and deserves the proper ridicule for it! Everyone, point and laugh!"
JFK: "I er-a, do not envy you and your napoleon complex, and by that I mean your MINISCULE PRIVATES!"
I began to slope down into my chair. Their eyes pricing me; their taunting and name calling, picking away at what little self-esteem I had left.
I felt my eyes begin to water and my face begin to burn. I begged God to adhere to my wishes, to end the madness right then and there, until Joan stood up.
"You all should be ashamed of yourselves, making fun of this poor guy. Sure Van Gogh may have been delightfully eccentric, but if he hadn't been the way he was back then, he may not have been hailed as the greatest artist of all that he is today! How would you all like it if we laughed at all of your clone father's delightful eccentricities? I don't think you would like it much at all."
"Ok Joan, lets not get all Orléans over this." Abe said.
Mr. Sheepman let out a tiny snicker "Now, uh, I think that's enough humiliation for one day. Class dismissed!"
As everyone began to leave, I slowly got up out of my desk chair. I hung my head to the ground looking away, trying not to make eye contact with anyone. "Hey" Joan said, her voice caught my attention as I turned to face her. "I've got your back Vincent, us tortured souls have got to stick together."
As her hand touched mine, my mind went numb. My face began to flush and my stomach began to tremble. I thought I should thank her, but my mind was spinning and flipping. 'No! I can't have this happen!' I thought to myself.
I quickly pushed her away, confused about these bizarre feelings I held. "NO!" I shouted as my pencils and binders fell to the floor. Joan gasped.
"I don't need your pity! I'm fine on my own!" tears began to fall from my eyes. I hid my face in embarrassment as I tried feverishly to pick up my things and head for the door.
'You idiot, you moron, you PATHETIC LITTLE CREEP' How could you treat her so horribly after what she had done for you? How could I treat… a girl like this… a girl I couldn't get my mind off of, with such savageness?
Then I thought back to what Kay Voss had said to my clone father long ago. "No! No! Never!", such a harsh rejection. How it must have hurt.
