You'd understand if you look up the actual song ("I Love You Song, 25th Annual Spelling Bee," into YouTube's search engine, is all you need). It's so good, it's the second song to ever make me come close to crying.
A little different chapter, here. I realized I hadn't given much on Maris's family history, or her basic history period: and here it is. In her POV. This has also been sitting in my Doc Manager for over two months, and I really don't want to have to make a story go to waste.
"There's always somebody out there who cares. Always." – Paranorman
…
I readied myself for the song. This was what I'd been waiting for since I heard we were doing this for our high school drama class.
Marge gave me a reassuring smile as I stepped up to the mike from her point as one of the judges. I looked at Cecil (who was playing my father in this role); he grinned back.
Oh, I loved him so.
I turned to Marge again, "Where's my father?"
"He said he was busy with the late shift, but he really wanted to come."
That was the truth with my real father as well, I guess. Only he doesn't ever want to come to anything I do. Ever. Or even work.
Brian, a fellow Thespian, cued me in, "Miss Otrovsky. Chimerical."
I looked out into the crowd for my parents. They weren't there.
Good. "May I have a definition?"
"It means unreal, fanciful, highly unrealistic, magical, visionary…"
Evelyn Peters (the snob who always gets everything she wants, except for my role—HA!) started in on her cue.
I started on my role, "If I go to Washington
"Will I be on my own?
"Because if I go to Washington,"
Evelyn changed her note a little.
"Who will be my chaperone?"
I once again gazed out into the crowd.
Evelyn started her role as my mother, "We always knew you were a winner,
"We saw it when you smiled…"
I stopped listening, waiting for the key words to come in. When Cecil told his parents he had Olive's father's role, they thought it better than some of the other "less complimentary" leading roles. But they were in the crowd, watching and waiting for their son to come out into the spotlight. Except for Bob, but that was okay. He scares me sometimes.
Marge's entire family came to see her, including her not-so-deserving snobbish sisters, even if her part was just a judge.
When I told my parents I had the leading role, Dad scoffed and lit another cigarette. Mom grinned at me and asked if I was joking. She then turned to Dad and took his empty beer can from the holster, throwing it out the window.
No joke—no pun.
"—Blame it on your daddalee and mammalee! Cause depression runs in our family!"
I was brought out of my thoughts. It was almost Cecil's tur—oh god, even Bob showed up! I watched him walk to his seat beside his father. He looked like he was apologizing for something, probably being late.
By the time he was done settling, it was Cecil's cue into the spotlight. "I love you!"
"And my dad says:" I couldn't believe my parents had never come to even one play.
Both sung together, "I love you!"
Each took one of my hands in theirs.
"And baby, it's true, I love you!"
I felt a siege of anger towards my real parents. It would be nice if they had come to my first leading-role play I was in, just so I can pretend like they care. "I wrote you a letter,
"How I found the spelling bee such fun.
"Mama, Mama, Mama!
"But you didn't react."
Which was true. When I told Mom about my issues and opinions about the way she and Dad treat me, she slapped me and never brought it up again.
I moved through the lyrics, very aware and self-conscious about this particular scene:
"Ma, I have, Oh God, this need
"I think Dad is angry, Ma
("YOU LITTLE BITCH—")
"And I do not know what to do
("DADDY, PLEASE!")
"Mama, Mama, Mama!
"Shanti Shanti and Om
"I think he takes out on me
"What he wants to take out on you
("STOP!")
"Mama, Mama, Mama
"How I wish you were home
"How I wish you were home
("SHUT UP!")
How I wish you were
Wish you were home
I couldn't help it now. The tears came fast and in streams. Cecil clutched my hand tighter, giving me the most . . . Gah, that sympathetic look! I hate it!
However, the song only moved forward, and my voice only grew stronger as I had flashbacks of my worst family moments.
(Huddling in a corner, trying to protect myself from the buckle-lashes, "Daddy, please! Momma!" Brittany, my mother, turned away, arms crossed)
"And I swear, it's true—! I love—"
("She ain't gonna help you NOW, the WIMP!")
Cecil took me softly by the shoulders, and my next line was more of a sound of anguish, "Momma!"
And the crowd noticed it, too. There were some whispers wavering through them all, questioning my acting. Cecil's parents (and Bob) were all sitting there, watching me with looks of approval.
Finally, we got to the end of the song. "I –LOVE—"
They stepped back, leaving me alone. I stood there crying for about two seconds before stating, "Chimerical. C-H-I-M-E-R-I-C-A-L. H-highly unrealistic, wildly fanciful."
(Finally, after he puts his belt back on, "Life ain't fair, kid. Don' hold nothin' against me for it. And don' you even think your momma's gonna help. She's a coward, just like the rest ah' ya women." He walks back into the kitchen, probably getting another beer, leaving the victim in the bedroom crying.)
"That is correct."
They were behind me now, our song quickly fading, "I love…you."
I sat back down, avoiding eye contact with everybody else. When the lights dimmed again, I ran back stage.
Cecil followed me to the exit door, stopping me before I actually ran out. I started bawling into his shoulder as he pulled me into a hug.
He stood there, holding me tight. One of the only people who has ever hugged me, possibly the first to see me cry in a couple of years, if not ever.
A teacher came up, almost ready to kill both of us. Cecil said something to her, I think, "Get her understudy! That's why they're there!" The teacher went away, grumbling under her breath.
He started saying soothing words, like any normal mother—or father—would have done for her child. "I know . . . I know . . ."
I loved him. He was the first boy to stick up for me. Even if Marge and I stuck up for him first, he stayed by us throughout the years. We're *"one for all, all for one times three!"
I can only hope I don't die before I leave at the good age of eighteen.
* - Thank you SideshowJazz1, for pointing this out! It's from 'Animaniacs, Wakko's Wish,' I forgot to point out that scene. Thanks!