Hello all. I know no one wants
to hear about a stupid new character but please just give me three seconds
of your time. At first it's more of a TCP then anything else. In this chapter
I've done my best to make her look human. Unlike most Mary Sue's she has
flaws and good things not just one sided. This is my first attempt at a
new character, give me a break. There probably won't be any romance for
a while if at all, depends how the story goes. If it totally sucks then
tell me. If you want more tell me that too. If I can the next installment
will be up soon, as long as Fanfiction.net can hold out long enough for
me to post. Thank you and now on with the story…
Tears In A Paper Cup
"Hey Kilrarie, I got this for
you."
I looked up at Nichelle's eyes so dark they looked black, complemented
by her red lips and clear complexion, my best friend looked beautiful.
Why she gets so dressed up to work in a run down coffee shop, I'll never
know. But I look at the medium sized box she handed me; leave it to her
to know it was my birthday. That's what I get for hanging out with a telepath.
The box was not too big, it would fit perfectly into my mini-backpack but
what I liked about it was the flashy silver wrapping paper. She said I
was like a squirrel or some animal like that, attracted to shiny things;
it's something we both can laugh about.
"Thanks, it's so nice of you to
get me this. But man am I tired, I just worked a double shift and I'm going
home, ok?"
She nodded in that understanding way of hers and whispered happy birthday
as I put the gift in my pack and headed towards home. She crossed the street
to go to the little coffee shop she worked at. The little neon lights flashed
"open" as she entered, the morning sun started spilling light across the
street and a few costumers went in almost right after Nichelle. The few
streetlights that were working went off and you could sense the city starting
to wake up, though it wasn't really that interesting considering it never
really went to sleep.
I sighed as I thought about now being 17. I wondered if I should call my
Aunt. If she has even noticed I'm gone. I started thinking about my parents.
I stopped for a second, I still have about five blocks left to travel,
thinking about my parents was not what I wanted to do right now. Think
about the Diner, think how much you hate working there but at the same
time love the freedom it gives you. Think about the rent that's due in
a week, just don't think about them.
I took the back alleys smelling of dead animals that almost made me throw
up. At least there was no one sleeping that I might wake up today. I started
humming and singing some Nickleback song to keep me from getting sick.
I wish there was a better way to get home, but the other ways didn't go
by where I needed to go to get some food. About a block from my house I
go in Mike's convince store and grab some food, all pre-packed and so unhealthy
that probably no one without my fast metabolism wouldn't dare eat it on
a regular basis.
Mike is a guy in his late 40's who's married. He has a mild case of adult
acne, greasy hair and a small beer gut. All and all he's down right ugly
inside and out. Even though he's married, with kids I might add, he still
looks at me the way a cheetah might look at a wounded gazelle. I come in
a couple times a week unless I get some food at the Diner or from Nichelle.
I smile at him as I grab my usual junk food and go to pay.
"Hey
Kilrarie..." he said in a way he thought what 'seductive' should sound
like, it came out more as 'creepy'. "...you know if you keep eating
that shit you might just lose that hot little figure of yours, now you
wouldn't want that would you?" he asks the same thing almost every time
I come in here, why I don't just stop coming here I'll never know.
"Well
I'm not worried." I say with a slight smile as I give him a twenty to cover
the 18 dollars I'm getting in junk food. He hands me back ten dollars with
another of what he considers a sly smile. I give him a short nod as I turn
to leave. That's why I keep coming here.
"See you soon, Kilrarie." They
way he says my name makes me feel cheep and dirty. I know I didn't do anything
but right then, and every time he "accidentally" gives me the wrong amount
of change, I felt like some of the hookers and sluts that he ends up with
on occasion. I pick up my pace as I suddenly feel the need for a shower.
****
The door to my building has graffiti covering it, tags of a local gang,
the super is pretty good about cleaning that off, it must have been done
in the night. The door also has a look to it that can only be complemented
the pealing green paint and several boards in the windows of the 6 story
building. The sun is creeping up to where I might have trouble sleeping.
I hear the screech of a siren as I unlock the main door and close it behind
me. Cop cars, wake up call for the poorest people of the city. I guess
that includes me. Only I'm going to bed, I have to work the night shift
for the rest of the week. The stairs to my room, apartment number 3C, are
old and creak when I walk up and down them. I'm always slightly paranoid
that I'm going to fall through them so I run my hand along the faded striped
wallpaper that must have been there since the early 70's along with most
of the stuff in my apartment and the others.
I smile and say 'Hi' to one of the nameless men who live in this building.
I've never bothered to talk to any of them, I just don't want to deal with
them I guess. I get to my room, this time remembering to take my key out
after I unlocked it. I put the food I got on the counter and soda in the
little fridge. The freezer broke last week on it, I lost a bunch of frozen
food before I noticed it. I need to get Dan (the super) to come fix it
soon. Old dishes, still in the sink from when I first moved in sit just
looking dirty. Nichelle said, the last time she was here, that if, when
she came by again, and they were still sitting there she'd throw them at
me. I know she's too nice to do that to me so we laughed about that too.
We seem to have a lot of jokes between the two of us.
I used the plates once when I was dating Greg; I cooked for him and everything
(burnt it all but it was the thought that counted). He dumped me the next
day. Said he found someone better.I cried and screamed and broke a few
glasses, then I felt better cleaned the up the broken glass, cutting my
hands several times. I still have scars from those. I don't really care,
they were here when I moved in so I let them stay there. That was almost
eight months ago. I haven't been on a date since. Haven't really wanted
too. Greg was 22, rich and a flirt. We dated for three months before he
ended it. I was hurt to say the least and he just moved on like we had
nothing. I am willing to move on, I guess I just haven't found anyone to
move to.
I go in my
bedroom and sit down at the dresser. Looking back is a girl with pale gray
eyes, hair a funny red-blond, wearing a hideous pink waitress outfit. Nothing
special about me. Oh yea I wish. I take off the layers of makeup I have
on and look again, not really much difference. I never liked to wear makeup
but somehow, I still wear it. I think it makes the guys like Mike, and
other random guys in the Diner, seem like they only act like that because
I wear the makeup, showing some cheep girl who gets that attention a lot.
I don't like how I live but at the same time it gives me a sense of freedom
and independence that makes me want to depend on someone. I grab my backpack
that was sitting next to the dresser. I take out the present Nichelle gave
me and carefully undo the wrapping paper, I might need it for something
later. It's a plain black book with white lined paper bond with blood red
coils for the binding, and on the front cover it says, "One by one the
Penguins steal my sanity…" I can't help but laugh a little. On the inside
cover there's an inscription from Nichelle.
Hey my girl!
I know you've
had a lot of shit to deal with so, I think it'd be better if you wrote
some of it down. What if one of those penguins steals a big piece? Why
don't you WRITE down your problems instead of turning them into four letter
words to take out on the rest of society?
Loves,
Nichelle.
P.S Happy 17th
Birthday!
That girl is too nice to me. She has a lot of strength and heart. Her boyfriend
spoils her and her little 4-year-old boy is great. She's 24 and lives in
a pretty good apartment a few blocks from here. She's moving at the end
of the month, don't know what I'm going to do without her, but I couldn't
be happier for her. Her and Ryan (her boyfriend) are moving to a little
town outside the city, a good 35 miles from here. They're going to raise
a family and live happily ever after. I just hope her fairytale dreams
don't get ruined. She deserves to be happy.
I think I might want to write down my life in the book, too much has happened
and I don't want to forget any of it, even though a lot of it's painful.
After I write down the past I can use it as a diary for all that will happen
and a log for all my little power trips I get, they have been happening
more and more lately. Right now though, I'm going to go to bed and sleep.
I pull the blinds over my windows shut, the streets are starting to fill
up and the sun is getting brighter and brighter. I grab a nightshirt and
change out of my worn and dirty waitress uniform, I'll need to go to the
laundry mat later today.
My bed is a queen size bed that I had a hell of time getting up to the
third floor. It's on a frame that came with the apartment, squeaky, rusty
and ugly but it was here and what was I going to do? It was easier just
to use it then take the one from my Aunts place. Aunt Laurie, I haven't
talked to her in almost a year…
I sighed as I flopped down on the bed, listening to the comforting squeaky
sounds I've come to love from the bed. Lately, I've been missing going
to school like a normal kid, doing anything like a normal kid, but I guess
that's just how it is, considering how not normal I am…
I crawled under the covers and rested my head against my pillow and shut
my eyes. I let my thoughts wander and I guess I fell asleep. I felt a sense
of pride in my heart, knowing I live on my own and live pretty good at
that. I also felt a sense of peace just knowing my life had a sort of order
and although it's not what I really wanted knowing it'll do. For now anyway.
For
a moment I was happy or at least content. Then with the sound of splinter
wood and the realization that I no longer had a front door and a good piece
of the wall for that matter, my world broke in to little bite size pieces…
OK! That's all so far, what
do you think? Does it suck? Is it ok? Does it make you want to cry from
all the grammar mistakes? (I'll do my best to keep them back though! Just
don't be too picky!) I'll have the next installment up soon like I said,
review's make me work faster. I promise I'll get to a point soon. I bet
your all wondering where I'm going with this, eh? Well I guess we'll all
just have to wait and see! Oh and a question, is this too long? Too short?
I really need some feedback about this!
--Laura Night