The afternoon sunlight filters through a seemingly normal home in a suburban paradise on a calm Friday in April. The house is rather large, consisting of 3 floors, an attic, and a basement. The quiet hallways are lined with dusty paintings of modern "art" and small tables topped with flowers. All is silent.
At around half past three, the quiet is disrupted by a 17 year old girl opening the exquisitely carved wooden door before entering the house, and then slamming it. Her dark brown hair is pulled back into a long ponytail, and her green eyes are red and glossy. She walks at a fast pace, stomping up the stairs, backpack slung across her back, to the third floor. She reaches her room, panting and out of breath. The room is also large and professionally furnished, but it only brings her more pain. She slings her backpack next to the door before walking over to her bed and flopping down on it. Her tears begin to fall fast and hard, and she nearly drenches her pillow in ten minutes. The feeling she felt today, and every day for the past three years, overwhelms her and only causes more tears to come.
From the view of someone looking at her, it looks like a thin girl in ripped clothing curled over a pillow. When she sits up to wipe her red, tear-stained eyes, one could see a blue-yellow circle under her left eye, and a bleeding cut on her lip. She slowly rises from her bed, whimpering, to inspect the damage in her vanity mirror. She chokes up at the sight of her tattered clothes and beaten face. Pulling off the clothes, she slings them aside into the garbage can before pulling on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. The clothes are easily replaceable. She can't help but think this with a grim mindset.
She walks to the bathroom connected to her bedroom to wash up. Pulling out a washrag, she wets it and wipes off her lip. She then places the rag over her eye to reduce the swelling. Wincing, she massages the soft tissue. She dries off her face and applies a thick coat of concealer over the blue-yellow moon around her eye, till it looks as though it isn't even there. She walks back into her room and sits on her bed, pulling her knees to her chest and placing her pace between them.
The day had started out fine. She got ready for school as she normally did, using as little makeup as possible (much to the dissatisfaction of her mother) and loaded her bus for school. Everything was fine, until about lunch. She caught her boyfriend of two years, the most popular boy in school, feeling up the head cheerleader behind the gym. Distraught, she ran to the gym teacher and snitched, getting the head cheerleader kicked off the cheer team in a matter of minutes, and her boyfriend a suspension. He promptly broke up with her, saying she was nothing but a b**** and that she overreacted. When the final bell rang, the whole cheer team came, angry over the loss of their captain, and beat her. They ripped her clothes, punched her, kicked her, until she managed to run away.
And here she is now, waiting for her family to get home, and for dinner to start and end, so she could be left alone. She looks up around her room. The walls covered in posters of bands that her mother didn't approve of, her plush rug covered in shopping bags and gifts from her mother. She could already predict what would be inside. Pink skirts, bejeweled shirts, perfumes, and bright makeup. Everything she hates. Her eyes wander to the TV sitting across from her, and the Wii sitting in front of it. She itches to pick it up and escape this world, into an animated utopia, where everyone was kind to her. But she has to resist. If her mother discovers she is playing that game, she would be grounded. She will have to wait till after dinner. The hours creep by, and the rest of her family arrive home at around 5:30.
A woman's voice calls upstairs. "Madonna? Come on down! It's time for dinner!"
The brown haired girl scowls at her name, but makes her way towards the stairs. She hates her name. When she tells her mother to call her by her middle name, Lyza, her mother always says that since they come from a high-class family, she must have a famous name. She plods down the stairs and walks into the kitchen to find her mother on the phone in a printed blouse and pencil skirt. The caked makeup on her face makes her seem older than she actually is.
After being shot a disapproving look, Lyza walks to the table and sits down next to her brother Isaac and her father, both whom are preoccupied with the paper or a DS. Her mother walks in and sits down the food. Her ear still covered by the phone, the family sat in silence, eating their food. After about five minutes, her mom finished the call and put down her phone.
"Now come on you guys," she says sweetly, "it's time for us to have dinner." Her brother reluctantly puts away his DS, but her dad keeps the paper in his hands. Lyza can't help but roll her eyes. This is just like her mom. If she isn't doing something, no one else can either. When her father finally puts down the paper, her mom smiles and looks around the table.
"Now," she says, "how is everyone doing today?"
Isaac is always the first to answer. "Well, Brady came to school today and showed me his new IPod, and it looked really cool. Can I have an IPod too?"
Her mother smiled, "Sure Isaac. Anything for you." She turns to Lyza, still smiling.
"Well, how was your day Madonna?"
"I…I don't want to talk about it." She quickly finishes, and then begins stuffing her face with food.
Her mother gives her the look of tell me or you're going to a mental institution.
Lyza takes a deep breath. "Well… my boyfriend kinda broke up with me."
Her mother gasps and reaches for her daughter's hand. "Oh my poor baby."
They sit there for a second, a bit awkwardly, until her mother again breaks the silence.
"You know what," she says encouragingly to Lyza. "I have the perfect idea."
Lyza looks up warily. "What?"
Her mother has a look of excitement on her face. "You know those bags up in your room? Well, inside, there are plenty of cute clothes and makeup. Oh! And magazines. Read the magazines over this weekend, wear the clothes on Monday, and you'll be sure to win him back."
Lyza looks at her mother blankly. Change herself. She wanted her to change herself. "But Mom. Wouldn't that pretty much be changing who I am? I don't like pink, tons of makeup, or acting like someone from a magazine. I want to be myself." She finishes passionately.
Her mother puts her hand on the girl's shoulder. "Honey, let's face it, you're too "square". You care too much about your grades and don't care enough about how you look. If we can fix that, you can easily win a great boyfriend."
Tears begin to fill Lyza's eyes. Why could her mother not just accept her? "Mom! I don't want a boyfriend! I don't want to change me! Can you not accept that?"
Her mother looks angry now. "I can't accept that my daughter is unattractive to boys. You need to change a little if you want success."
Lyza rises from the table abruptly and turns around. She leaves the table and stomps up the stairs making sure everyone could hear her. Making it to her room, she locks the door and flops onto her bed, anger flowing through her. A few minutes later, a knock comes at her door.
"Honey," her mom says softly, "I'm sorry. How about I buy you that pretty necklace we saw at the mall last week? I know how much you loved it."
Lyza remembers that forced trip to the mall. She only said she liked that necklace so her mother would stop bugging her. Truthfully, it was the ugliest one in the shop.
When will you realize Lyza thinks that things don't make me happy?
Lyza remains silent until she hears footsteps walking away. Now she's alone all night. She glances at her Wii. In a matter of minutes, the calming music of Harvest Moon: Animal Parade fills the speakers. Lyza smiles as she clicks her save file.
Lyza has loved Harvest Moon for a while. She remembers playing her first game, Harvest Moon 64, and falling in love with it. The calm, accepting community of farm people always stole her heart within the first five minutes, but Animal Parade is most definitely her favorite. Mostly due to one character.
The Wizard.
When she loses hope in boys, like today, she will play and find the boy she is hoping for. Often a caring, gentle man who treats her right and never cheats. She knows they're fake, but she loves them anyway.
Wizard has had her heart since she first saw him. The way he is so calm and kind, as well as his bit of awkwardness, has pulled her towards him. She knows she loves him. It may sound crazy to love something she can never really have, but it's really not unlike loving a celebrity.
She plays for hours and hours into the night, planting, milking, talking to the citizens. At around 2 in the morning, she finally falls asleep with the TV and game still on.
Sitting in a dark room, with nothing but a crystal ball filled with a white haze and a candle, a white haired man in purple clothes sits over a pile of textbooks, searching for something. He looks up caringly into his crystal ball. In it, her sees a brown haired girl sleeping calmly in her bed. He reaches out to touch the sphere, almost yearningly.
"Lyza," he says softly. "I love you. If I were there with you, no one would do you wrong. But I can't."
He pulls his hand away from the crystal ball and returns to studying.
"I'm trapped. We were meant to be together, I just know it. We could be, if it weren't for these damn
Barriers."
Hey you guys! That was really cheesy, I'm sure. I know it's been a while, but I've just been really busy. I'll try to get out more chapters now that summer has started, but I can't make any promises. Reviews are really appreciated. Love y'all!- Beetle