(Naturally at the moment I have no idea which verse I am writing for. Normally its movie verse and I don't really know much about the comic and animation series other than what I watched as a small child (which I can't remember much of aside from the fact that Storm was awesome in the animation series) and what I have read online about the comic series. I am in the mood to write right now, so I might as well just write, right? Right.)
About Her: One.
It wasn't as if she were ugly, if so she could have understood but this simply was not the case here. She'd been told all her life how she was beautiful, by her family, friends, boys at school. So what was the deal? Over the past six or seven weeks people had become naturally leery of her. It was unexplainable up until about a week ago when she'd killed her mother's ivy plant while watering it. It was just a slip of the hand truthfully. Marie was in conversations with the flowers. Some called her Alice because it seemed she had a world all of her own sometimes and she knew it was good to talk to plants because her momma told her it helped them grow. She had grown up doing it, so nothing was particularly different about the day she killed the poor little ivy plant her mother kept growing on a stand in the sunniest part of the small country kitchen.
Marie had reached out to caress the petals with her finger tips after watering them. She was naturally a sweet soul with a tender disposition that at times belied the temper that boiled just under the surface and could boil over at any given moment. It was only after she had put the measuring cup away that she turned, the early morning sun shining on her back to look back on the plant that in a matter of seconds it had completely wilted. Marie didn't know what to say when her mother asked what had happened to her oldest house plant. Marie hadn't gone near the plants sense that day. It wasn't that she was afraid it might happen again, but she just couldn't live with herself if the bizarre occurrence happened again and she had to once again face down Irene D'Ancanto with her soft brown eyes full of childlike innocence and wonder. Marvin, Marie's daddy, always said she had her mother's eyes and that with eyes like those he could deny them nothing. So of course they were constantly scanning they're calls because of bill collectors that called about a hundred times a day.
It was a hard truth to face but eventually you just have to grit your teeth and roll through it. Marie wasn't so completely horrified that hardly anyone at her new school didn't like her. Not yet anyway. It was only natural after all. About a year ago Marvin had gotten a job in Gatlin, North Carolina so the whole family had had to move away from the town that Marie had been raised in. However, it was a little puzzling that while living in North Carolina people had taken to her just fine. It was also weird for Marie because this was a part of the south where they did war reenactments and of course at the high school she'd been going to it was mandatory in her history class that you participate if you wanted to pass the class. This was something she'd never had to do, but it was interesting to say the least. Her history teacher Mr. Barnes didn't think any part of history was more important than the Civil War. Of course Marie knew this wasn't true but she'd never said anything like that in his class. The town was a typical southern town. Slow paced, everyone knew everyone's name and they're business. Anyone new was an outsider but eventually they treated them like one of their own once they got to know you, about your whole family, if you had any people in the Civil War who they were, what side they were on and what church you attended on Sundays. But only six months after they had moved, Marvin's business venture fell through and with only one thing left to do they moved back to Mississippi where at least they had close family. Now they didn't move back to the same town, instead they moved to Jackson where Irene had a sister which they all moved in with. Martha had begged Irene and Marvin to move closer to them for years and now she finally had her hearts truest desire that her whole family was all under one roof together. Martha had a large house after her husband had passed away some years previous and all her children except for one had moved out, gotten married or gone off to school. Bruce was Martha's youngest who was around Marie's age and home schooled because well, lets just say he was a few sandwiches short of a picnic basket and had to be kept an eye on. Martha was a telephone psychic based off of the internet.
Irene and Marvin both got jobs as soon as they moved in, it was against Martha's wishes that they both get jobs, (mostly because she was afraid that they were saving up for a home of they're own) but both Irene and Marvin had made it very clear that if they were going to be living there they insisted on pulling they're own weight. Which in all honesty they were saving for a home of they're own because Bruce was just as creepy as could be. Bless his heart. Martha's eldest daughter Chloe had possessed the attic bedroom which was really more like a small apartment and this was now Marie's room where we will now find her up to the present day.
'What's wrong with me?' Marie questioned turning to and fro in the mirror admiring her toned abdomen, her strong runner's legs. She wasn't very tall perhaps five foot five if she stood as straight as she possibly could, with long chestnut hair and a tiny waist that seemed to emphasize the size of her breasts all the more. Holding her battered t-shirt she balled it up into a knot just above her navel and turned in the mirror again sweeping her hair dramatically over one shoulder so that she might look at her taut round buttocks in the mirror as well. Physically Marie couldn't find anything wrong with herself aside from the widows peak that ran straight through the section of her hair people most commonly called the 'bangs' she'd been born with it and up until she was thirteen she'd hated it. That's when spunky hair had become the height of fashion with teenage girls and only then did Marie begin to like it because it set her apart. She began to believe what her mother had always told her. "Marie sweetie, ya care much too much about ya outward appearance. That lit'l streak of white there just makes you unique. It's how our Lord Jesus can tell ya apart from all the rest." Now those words rang more true than ever. Pursing her lips slowly she shifted falling backwards and plopping down on her messy bed to stretch her toes up towards the ceiling bracing her back with her hands as she stretched long and hard feeling the tension in the muscles as she laughed at herself. 'There's nothing wrong with me. I'm just like everyone else.' she told herself. Only she didn't honestly believe it. Something was wrong with her, but she didn't know what. Had she been spending way to much time around Bruce and whatever he had was catching and now she was going to get a little fruit loopy herself? Marie didn't even want to answer that question mentally or otherwise.
Rolling onto her stomach she bounced propelling herself to the side of the bed and swung her legs over grabbing the can of diet Dr. Pepper and took a healthy swig before sliding another bar of Hershey's Milk Chocolate into her mouth savoring the sweet melty deliciousness of it. Chocolate was Marie's weakness, but she was also very conscious of her weight. She didn't find herself overweight at all but in younger years people might have described her as pleasantly plump. It also didn't help that she had developed rather early on. So she put herself on a ridged dieting plan and had stuck to it. But this. She smiled holding another little sliver of chocolate before her eyes, this she thought. 'This is my secret sin.' and she slide the slice through her lips sighing as she ran her tongue over her lips licking away any evidence that might otherwise incriminate her. Shifting around on the bed she stood up padding barefooted towards her iPod docking system and turned up the song currently playing and sang along. Malcolm Mclaren - About Her.
As much as she wanted to push away the nagging thoughts that kept interrupting her quiet time she couldn't. Marie was lonely. She missed her old friends and even though they kept in touch through E-mails and texts it wasn't the same. She wanted someone that she could talk to. Irene would only worry, and Marvin would simply tell her that things would get better. Aunt Martha read the cards for her but Marie could tell that she was leaving something out and more recently then ever whenever Martha looked at her from across the supper table there was a weary look in her eyes that told Marie everything wasn't going to even out eventually. Whatever she was going through she would have to do it alone, no one would understand. This wasn't teen angst this was something else all together different, it didn't feel right at all, Marie had gone through all the obvious mood swings of a teenage girl and then some but this wasn't like before. There was something wrong with her and as much as she wanted to reach out and tell someone they wouldn't believe her they would simply brush it off. Feeling tears building up ready to brim over her eye lids she sat down on her bed again curling up into a ball, the volume of her docking system loud enough for the people next door to hear but she didn't care as she slide another piece of chocolate into her mouth. Her only solace.
Irene was knocking at the door, asking her to come down for dinner, telling her to turn the music either down or turn it off. Marie wasn't sure which it was because she didn't hear her completely and she rolled onto her back to look up at the ceiling finally letting the sorrows of the day crowd in around her as she moved her mouth to the words in the song.
Well it's too late to say you're sorry, how would I know? Why should I care? Please don't bother tryin' to find her…she's not there.
(So that concludes the first chapter of this story. I'm not sure if it will just be a one shot and a crappy one at that or if I will continue. I want to continue that's for sure. But I will need more musical inspiration. As if right now, this fiction has no title and no real plot yet. Is this is a challenge. Give me your ideas, your thoughts, anything you wish to say, say it. Who knows maybe I will knock this one out of the park with some help from my wonderful readers. )