Disclaimer: I do not own the series, the cast, the actors, or the crew
behind "Degrassi: The Next Generation." The only things I own in this piece
is Marilyn Sterling and any characters knitted to her (IE: parents,
siblings, boyfriends, girlfriends). I do not know/own Metallica nor any
song that they have ever written.
This is a pure work of fiction, I am not liable for anything. The events within the text never happened in real life.
~*~
A girl stood in the music room of her high school, leaning onto the piano and counting along to the beats of the music coming from the stereo. Her purple eyes closed, black eyeliner hiding their existence, and she brought her head down, her black hair hardly shifting from its gelled state; spiked in the back and hanging somewhat loose in the front, framing her face. She began to sing again, "Ooh, what a good boy you are. Out of the way and you're kept to yourself. Ooh, can't you see that he's not here. He doesn't want the attention you give. Ooh, unplugged from it all. Invisible kid floats alone in his room. Ooh, what a quiet boy you are. He looks so calm floating 'round and around in himself-"
The music stopped and she quickly noticed. The female teacher spoke up, "That was great, Marilyn."
Marilyn, as she's called, clicked her tongue; the metal adorning it hitting the roof of her mouth. She stopped to talk, "Thanks, but I'm thinking about changing the song. Maybe to an old school Metallica song."
The music teacher motioned to the door, "You should keep this one, but it's up to you. I'll see you tomorrow in class?"
"If I don't skip." Marilyn corrected with a laugh, "there's an art show next week and I have to finish up my sculpture." She picked up her long, black pleather coat and put it on, "Mr. Urness said I might be able to place third this year."
"Only third?" A male's voice made itself known.
Marilyn jumped slightly and turned her body to face the door, "Slade, you scared me." She said to the tall boy leaning against the door frame.
Slade smiles, "I'm sorry, Mare." His brown and lime green hair was made up into a faux hawk, his countless piercings glistened in the well lit room. "Are we ready to go?"
"Yeah." Marilyn turned to address her teacher, "I'll see you tomorrow, Mrs. Hammond." She slings her messenger bag over her right shoulder and walked over to Slade; black boots clunking against the floor.
Slade put an arm around Marilyn when she got to him and they began to walk through the High School building, "Think your parents found out by now?"
"I bet they did. It doesn't take long to find out that your daughter 'stabbed' someone." Marilyn joked.
"How'd that start anyway? I was sleeping through Science when it happened." Slade questions and pushes open the doors leading to the cafeteria.
"Oh, you know. It's the same old thing... I go into gym and people shoot the same worn and pompous jokes about me. But then something new happens."
"Yeah?"
Marilyn nods, "Natasha Krier and her entourage thought that it would be a grand idea to see how easily they could get inside my head, like they could. Push came to shove and they started saying the most idiotic things, of course they had to press the 'family' button and tick me off."
"Of course." Slade chimes in again.
"They pulled the father card and I, well, snapped. Natasha never saw my pen coming." She laughs.
~*~
Marilyn was sitting Indian style on her bed; her long skirt carefully rearranged. She looked up at her mother and step-father, who were almost to the point of popping a vein. "What did you want me to do? Stand there and let them talk like that?" She fiddled with the rings on her fingers, one for every digit, and moved her eyes around her dungeon like room before resting them back on her parents.
"Yes if it meant you wouldn't stab them!" Her mother yelled.
"Her. I stabbed her. " Marilyn stated pointedly, "Do you even know what she was saying?"
Marilyn's father began to pace, "I don't care. This is the sixth time this month alone that you've caused trouble."
"I'm doing well then, and of course you wouldn't care."
"Marilyn, don't start with us." Her mother crossed her arms, "What are we going to do with you?"
"I don't think that there's anything you can do."
Mr. Sterling stops pacing, "You've done stupid things before, Marilyn, but this takes the cake. You've ruined our reputation!"
"What reputation!" Marilyn tries not to scream, "This is Brooklyn, everyone's reputation is mashed together as one!"
"Don't you raise your voice to us, young lady. Maybe staying here is the problem. I think a move is in order, maybe then you won't look like Death." Marilyn's mother looks at her with shame and disgust.
This is a pure work of fiction, I am not liable for anything. The events within the text never happened in real life.
~*~
A girl stood in the music room of her high school, leaning onto the piano and counting along to the beats of the music coming from the stereo. Her purple eyes closed, black eyeliner hiding their existence, and she brought her head down, her black hair hardly shifting from its gelled state; spiked in the back and hanging somewhat loose in the front, framing her face. She began to sing again, "Ooh, what a good boy you are. Out of the way and you're kept to yourself. Ooh, can't you see that he's not here. He doesn't want the attention you give. Ooh, unplugged from it all. Invisible kid floats alone in his room. Ooh, what a quiet boy you are. He looks so calm floating 'round and around in himself-"
The music stopped and she quickly noticed. The female teacher spoke up, "That was great, Marilyn."
Marilyn, as she's called, clicked her tongue; the metal adorning it hitting the roof of her mouth. She stopped to talk, "Thanks, but I'm thinking about changing the song. Maybe to an old school Metallica song."
The music teacher motioned to the door, "You should keep this one, but it's up to you. I'll see you tomorrow in class?"
"If I don't skip." Marilyn corrected with a laugh, "there's an art show next week and I have to finish up my sculpture." She picked up her long, black pleather coat and put it on, "Mr. Urness said I might be able to place third this year."
"Only third?" A male's voice made itself known.
Marilyn jumped slightly and turned her body to face the door, "Slade, you scared me." She said to the tall boy leaning against the door frame.
Slade smiles, "I'm sorry, Mare." His brown and lime green hair was made up into a faux hawk, his countless piercings glistened in the well lit room. "Are we ready to go?"
"Yeah." Marilyn turned to address her teacher, "I'll see you tomorrow, Mrs. Hammond." She slings her messenger bag over her right shoulder and walked over to Slade; black boots clunking against the floor.
Slade put an arm around Marilyn when she got to him and they began to walk through the High School building, "Think your parents found out by now?"
"I bet they did. It doesn't take long to find out that your daughter 'stabbed' someone." Marilyn joked.
"How'd that start anyway? I was sleeping through Science when it happened." Slade questions and pushes open the doors leading to the cafeteria.
"Oh, you know. It's the same old thing... I go into gym and people shoot the same worn and pompous jokes about me. But then something new happens."
"Yeah?"
Marilyn nods, "Natasha Krier and her entourage thought that it would be a grand idea to see how easily they could get inside my head, like they could. Push came to shove and they started saying the most idiotic things, of course they had to press the 'family' button and tick me off."
"Of course." Slade chimes in again.
"They pulled the father card and I, well, snapped. Natasha never saw my pen coming." She laughs.
~*~
Marilyn was sitting Indian style on her bed; her long skirt carefully rearranged. She looked up at her mother and step-father, who were almost to the point of popping a vein. "What did you want me to do? Stand there and let them talk like that?" She fiddled with the rings on her fingers, one for every digit, and moved her eyes around her dungeon like room before resting them back on her parents.
"Yes if it meant you wouldn't stab them!" Her mother yelled.
"Her. I stabbed her. " Marilyn stated pointedly, "Do you even know what she was saying?"
Marilyn's father began to pace, "I don't care. This is the sixth time this month alone that you've caused trouble."
"I'm doing well then, and of course you wouldn't care."
"Marilyn, don't start with us." Her mother crossed her arms, "What are we going to do with you?"
"I don't think that there's anything you can do."
Mr. Sterling stops pacing, "You've done stupid things before, Marilyn, but this takes the cake. You've ruined our reputation!"
"What reputation!" Marilyn tries not to scream, "This is Brooklyn, everyone's reputation is mashed together as one!"
"Don't you raise your voice to us, young lady. Maybe staying here is the problem. I think a move is in order, maybe then you won't look like Death." Marilyn's mother looks at her with shame and disgust.