Sunie-chan: Yay! I was planning on writing a fic all along, just the right one never came up to thought -.-" heh. I kinda kept and scribbled down some thoughts and then I found paradoxes (who knew I had a love for them teehee (uh don't pay attention to that laugh...some habit I picked up)). Okayzies (again), so anyways I really liked Moore's Paradox...well techie Liar's Paradox came first, but I think this one suited the idea I had more. Maybe I'll leave that for some other time.
XxXMoore'sParadoxXxX
Sunie: Okayzies so apparently I have an alter-ego now...
Fleur: That's funny.
Sunie: Yeah I don't know how often she's gonna show up...or speak for that matter, so when she does, she does.
Sunie: So anyway...ignore this and read the summary. If you like it go on. If you don't like it...uh you could just stop and click back.
Fleur: Or force yourself as torture...chances are it's not gonna be a good story.
Sunie: -glare-eye twitching-
Fleur: Like it matters, technically you're doing it to yourself. Like attempting to stare at your own forehead. Without a mirror.
Sunie: It was one time! Anyway enjoy...-wince-
XxXMoore'sParadoxXxX
Preview:
I believe, what I think should explain the absurdity of both elimination and gain. From what I realize, my gain needs to be eliminated. So apparently, my gain is absurd to obtain because I want to eliminate it. Uh nevermind, I'm looking way too much into this. But I figured, if I see/know them, I don't have to believe they're there.
Summary:
Kozakura Sane is a passive girl, with bottled aggression. All she wants it to live, breathe and speak without being tied down or controlled by her devious mother who attempts to force her into selling her beautiful art creations. In the attempt of selling her work, some of it is bought by Ouran Academy. And that is where reality and illusion begins to unravel.
XxXMoore'sParadoxXxX
Chapter One: You Sold It, But I Don't Believe It Was Bought
As long as I prefer to remember, my mother has controlled me for most of my life. My father passed away before I was born, and I was born a sickly child to a hard woman. What I learned in life is that, no is not capable of being in my vocabulary around her. Her passion for me to become a writer in poetry has become obsessive and I am therefore forced to write in journals she purchases for me.
I never really wrote in the books so she spoke of me being very illiterate because my spelling was "destructive to a pen and lined paper" in her words. But she found that the magic I somehow "possessed" was actually a sketch on blank paper with a pencil. I loved drawing, but I never spoke of it to her because I was the spawn of opportunity. The hope I once had and the freedom of myself, was lost and away in the sky. The sketches on the oily paper, shoved into the attic, melted away and faded into the darkness. Where was the light and where the clouds that grew thicker in the rain are my folded sheets of paper? The lovely faces shaded with pastels dripped off in the heavy tears and so was that rainy day.
XxXMoore'sParadoxXxX
"Sane." My mother quietly entered my room and a curious frown built inside me. I never understood the meaning of having a facial expression...so in a way, I had none. I held my eyes shut tightly and laid still so I appeared to be asleep to her. I attempted to roll onto my other side so she's think I was tossing in my sleep. But, that didn't go very well and I fell off the bed and she flicked the light switch on.
"Sane. Whether you were pretending or not, I can see behind all of your whimsical facades. Does pretending to be asleep and tricking me by the slightest amuse you?" she spoke to me. Sometimes it was simply scary to look at her. She was a porcelain doll in a way. Her skin was so pail that when she went out side, she kept an umbrella with her. Her tone was simply close to the color of paste and if she dare go in the sun without her umbrella she would burn up so easily. Her eyes were an emerald green color. Her shoulder length hair was a curly and were considered to be red, but it was this very elegant shade of orange.
My mother is an Irish woman, who ran away to Japan and met up with my father there. She was working in a hospital attempting to take up nursing, when she met a patient there. He told her that he had a heart condition that would eventually kill him at some point in his life and that when he first saw her he fell in love with her. And so that was part of my mother's journey and some of what she wanted accomplished. So he proposed to her, and they got married.
She was never aware that he was rich at the time, and when he got her pregnant with me he died. He left this huge amount of money for her, but she couldn't access it because my grandmother didn't like her. But she found out that he left her this account number that would allow her to access it without anyone knowing. Heh, what a long story.
I stood from the floor and looked straight at the red headed woman in front of me. I kept this straight face when I looked at her, but the gaze is so piercing I shifted on my foot and tugged at my wavy reddish brown hair. It was a springy, wavy and was hard to keep tied together. As soon as I tugged on it, my long hair flew out and fell to my waist.
"Remember the paintings in the attic. The ones you made a while ago, when you were thirteen." I glanced at her and averted my eyes. Heh, what kind of devious thought was she concocting now.
"I'm going to buy you more sketch books and canvas boards. That way you can male beauty for the world." I could only grimace, but I was grateful that my still expression held no signs of applause or booing towards her reckless insanity. Yet it was not appealing to see people carrying various art equipment into my room on my mother's call.
I never thought it would hurt to draw.
XxXMoore'sParadoxXxX
"I do believe, that I would prefer that I could keep a drawing. One of my choice, even though you have this amazing thought of selling my heart." I said to her and she scoffed. Somehow I wished my face would turn up write, but looking at my mother at every moment was eating me alive. The mere thought of wanting to smile around her was hard and sickening.
"Sane, there are better things in life other than keeping this stored away. And you can actually do something with you artistic skills for once. I thought that my genes would have passed to you and that I suspected that you might have had a respect for literature. As far as I can see, you've destroyed the English Language." She spoke firmly. It felt so surreal to see the drawings I made, careless given away to be purchased and treated with admiration. That would be the only light I felt from giving my work away, though seeing the work plastered somehow brought me back to my misery.
"Hurry and chose the picture you prefer to keep." She said to me with I slightly hard look. In away she looked frustrated, but it looked like mild constipation. She shoved me back into the house and I ran to the attic in case it was still there. And there leaning against the wall, with its large and tall frame. A man who sat by a lake writing...for some reason I chose to leave it in black and white, normally I don't do that on canvas boards, but I was so attracted to it. I thought it was simple as it was.
I carefully moved it down the stairs and into my bedroom. Even thought I cried on the inside, i would never let my mother know that. So captivated within that drawing, it was the only peace I had...to a dream that I had almost forgotten.
XxXMoore'sParadoxXxX
"Sane, come to me for a moment child." My mother ordered me out of the kitchen to the tea room. I appeared holding a tea set with raspberry tea and a floral tea set on a tray and laid it on the table. I bowed to my mother and looked at her with the same solid appearance I always gave her. When she made eye contact I quickly shifted my eyes away from her gaze. She quickly furrowed her brow and grabbed my arm so I leaned towards her. My knee banged against the table and the tea set clattered as I hovered over the table. She forced me to hold a steady eye contact with her, but I forced myself to turn away.
"Sane, my child, you are quite too soft to be my own." Her wicked grin spoke to me and in my mind played her voice.
"You're art is beauty to the world, and the world has accepted what you offer." She said to me. I thought that she was offering me to the world, but I dare not speak. "I will send you to your first school ever and you no longer have to have private tutors and teachers. And you shall be free to see the beauty of the world, that I have hidden from you for so long. I'm sending you to Ouran Academy. The high school division."
And every word she spoke was gibberish to me...yet I found some thankfulness within her aggressiveness. But, unfortunately, to the little knowledge I know of the outside world would be hell. And somehow, Ouran Academy, is going to be my most difficult obstacle.
Sunie-chan: yeah I did it!! I'm not so shure about how it came out...it's a little on the weird side for me...I feel confuzzled about it, heh but leave a review anyway...I would be nice if you didn't flame a bring down my hopes, but you can do as you'd like :-).