So, it's plain as can see. Dawn's the most popular Revenge girl; and I say that only because today's youth and hipster girls see themselves in Dawn only because of her outwardly style. It's not easy for many to admit, but I've seen it. Just go to CN's forums and other places. People love that girl. And it's probably because they like to imagine themselves as her. Is it because she's the "perfect" characterization of a girl that every real girl wants to be? I don't know, and I'll never know, but enjoy this crap and we'll see how she herself reacts.
Word Count: 1048 words.
Flurorescent Radiance
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Dawn has nothing to do. Nothing to do at all today. He's gone again, and she's left alone because that's the job of a housewife. She doesn't mind though, although sometimes she aches to go outside. Actually, in retrospect, she could go outside.
Although today, a good substitute for that would have been "could have."
It was raining.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
With nothing to do, she checks her e-mail on his laptop. It was state of the art, just released that year. That was always like him; purchasing the latest and greatest, "only the best for him and his fairy princess."
She giggles silently to herself. She couldn't believe that he actually watched her elimination in full.
Ah, yes. Total Drama Whatever. She'd been voted off in the fifth episode. But Dawn knew that you knew that. She knows about the people that envy her, the people that follow her cause, the people that stalk her.
The people that draw her. The people that write her.
The people that discuss fantasies of wanting to be inside her.
She shudders. They were quite odd people. Perhaps odder than herself.
Her e-mail is littered with fan-mail beyond fan-mail. The show only ended a good five years ago. "Or was it six?" she can't remember anymore. It was in the past, and she was shocked she was still famous for it. She was on literally for no longer than two hours and thirty minutes. Three hours and a few seconds if her elimination recap in the sixth episode and finale were counted.
Regardless, it was shocking. She argues that she wasn't even that good at the game, she argues that she barely talked, she argued that the fucking Silent Bob guy had somehow acquired more confessionals than her. A whopping two "Or was it three?" to her inferior one. The one that got her shoved into a fucking trash bag filled with seashells and sticks.
She wonders how the audience reacted to that. Did they think that was funny?
Chris probably thought it was.
Did the audience find it funny to have someone forced into a garbage bag with little oxygen and sharp cut-inducing items?
And if that wasn't enough, to be hurled a thousand feet or so in the air, miss the target point, sink into the water, and almost drown?
She still thanks Talks-A-Not for saving her that day.
Was it supposed to be played for laughs or something?
Whatever it was, she could care less now.
She clicks the inbox section. Nothing but links to fanfiction and art that she knows she won't be reading or viewing anytime soon. It was weird, that was definitely not like her, she was usually nicer. But it was strange, those people. Those people. They just... As much as she tried to be nice, she was a loner, and preferred to keep it that way. All the attention was quite disturbing.
She silently asks herself if this injustice would ever end.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
She sighs, Mother Earth's response did nothing but further upset her.
She decides that perhaps she has been going a bit off-the-wall. So she clicks one of the fan-mails, "Just one. Just one..." she reminds herself. She certainly wasn't in the mood to be reading some god awful grammar that was akin to that of the intelligence of a two year old.
She cocks an eyebrow as she's re-directed to a story archive. As she views the site, she doesn't hesitate to notice the fact that the story narrow settings have been tweaked so that they only show stories about her.
This is where she finds herself more confused than sad and frustrated.
B, Cody, Ezekial, Noah, Cameron, Brick, and Scott of all people.
Another sigh.
These people. These people and their beliefs. Their headcanons, their poor, poor headcanons.
There was at least one that made sense, and it didn't take a rocket scientest to figure that one out. She couldn't help but feel confused toward the veteran pairings, she only met them once or twice at a cast reunion party. And they only gave her a friendly glance, tops. Even the Gollum-child (Whom she had felt sympathy for due to his condition.) had refused to acknowledge her.
She understands the next two somewhat. For the first one, they were polar opposites, but at the same time, they clicked. Both intelligent, but both surrounded by one thing. Nature for her, and in his case, the loving comfort of his own estate.
The next, they talked a few times; and people may have mistook his need for dominance to be dealt with herself.
She places her chin in her hand, these people couldn't even understand that the dominance-bringer was clearly the only girl on the show who bothered to show dominance. But they still take it the wrong way.
Then there was him. That fucking ginger. That fucking ginger and his redneck farm of rat-killing hooligans who come with a layer of filth that just never washes off no matter how many showers they took. This one just bothered her to no end. She didn't want to be ticked. But how.
How was it that they saw it that way?
Opposites attracting is not a common situation as one would like to believe.
She gives her respect for him thanks to misinterpreting his faux beetle-love, and then he stuffs her in a bag.
"Oh, yes, because that is extremely romantic."
Her eyes widen as she finally makes a connection regarding his rat-mauling habits. Consider their original team name on that godforsaken show. As well as his habit in the first six episodes, and maybe she won't be the only one alone with that haunting symbolism in mind.
She rolls her eyes after brushing that creepy coincidence off. These people would never learn, it was ridiculous. But in the end, she knew that even her herself was not enough to stop them from shitting out more and more nonsense about her that they wanted so much to be true. So she decided to do nothing, and deal with it. Let them be and let them have their fun. It wasn't in her nature to protest against somthing. She was nice and caring. Or well, she was supposed to be by usual terms.
And as she cuddles into the burly arms of her sane, technical, silent savior companion, she wonders what she could have possibly done to imply all those rumors, lies, and fan-reaction.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The rain still hasn't stop. It's been hours. It's almost unrealistic as to how long it's been. With her unfortunate luck, it was probably bound to last throughout the entire night.
She compares her devoted followers to the everlasting storm, and falls asleep in the embrace of her own Silent Bob.
