A/N: I feel like it's some unspoken rule here to tell everyone this is my first fan fic, so, voila. . . . . . . . . . Disclaimer: you all obviously know this, but I do not own the rights to Ib, I merely just play it.
….
Mary sat at the table and ate her breakfast. Now, if anyone knew Mary, they'd know that "eating" and "sitting" were two words too bland to describe such a girl. It was more like this: Mary was simply at the table politely seated, like any young lady should, preparing to eat her cereal. This was working out quite nicely for her until she had noticed that the tiny, whole-wheat, well-shaped cereals were, in fact, real wells the whole time! Upon further investigation, she found that there was a whole micro- organismic town down there, drowning in a sea of milk white water pollution! Mary hadn't taken much time to consider helping those poor, drowning, little people, for she had realized that her size difference would be of much help to them. She had started to delve her fingers into the milky abyss, but to no avail. She no longer saw the struggling heads of micro-people, and feared for the worst. Could they all have drowned already? No, they couldn't of had decided Mary, as she franticly grasped the bowl and started slurping up the cold-blooded, killer lake. She had only gotten half-way through the bowl when her mother had demanded her to stop.
"Mary!" she hissed, "that is no way a lady should behave!" Mary's mother had made her way towards her, softly gripped her arms, and quietly went to showing her the errors of her ways. "It's not polite to slurp", her voice cooled as she goaded Mary into putting the bowl back on the table. Mary couldn't help but notice that her mother had a new color of nail polish on; still a shade of red, of course. Mary watched her mother's boney hands slither off her arm, causing her to holler for more food. Her mother's response, which was of little surprise to Mary, was another harsh scowl, a look of disappointment, and a "Would you like more cereal, then". Mary had glimpsed down at her half empty bowl; she would need to make a memorial for the victims later today. "Can I have toast instead?" She flashed a smile at her mother.
It was amongst all this commotion that no one had noticed Ib come in. Little Ib, who was no greater than nine, was always the quieter of the two sisters. As opposed to Mary's spontaneous blonde curls and deep blue eyes, Ib had always looked like her parents. She had dirt brown, pin straight hair like her father, and the fiery red eyes that her mother had. Paying little to no attention to the hullabaloo in front of her, Ib sat at the opposite end of the table. She had spent a few seconds fiddling with any and all nearby objects, until she worked up the nerve to ask her mother for breakfast. Conveniently, this was just after Mary had done the same, and her mother turned to her and asked: "Toast?"
Id nodded her head. Mary thawed out of her mocking smile, only just noticing her sister was in the room. "Good Morning, sleepyhead!" she chirped. Ib responded to her sister with a smile; she wasn't really one for words. Mary continued: "You know, you got up two hours after me, right? What's with that? You stuck in a dream or something Ib?"
Ib tried to find the words to answer. She knew what Mary would think if she told her the truth. She felt her throat go dry and her eyes tear. She knew her sister would be suspicious if she didn't answer soon, but she was upset, couldn't attempt to find an answer and didn't want to. Luckily, her mother swooped in with the toast.
"Well Mary, you always do say how you'd like to be treated like a grownup. Sometimes grownups have to get up earlier than the children, so stop hounding your poor sister." Mother's voice was almost as chirpy as Mary's. Mary understood her defeat, pouted, and resorted to nibbling on her toast. Ib smiled at her mother, showing her gratitude. She went to eat her breakfast, but to her dismay there was only one piece of toast. What about Garry? "Mom?" Ib's voice rose to an unusual (at least for her) volume, "You forgot to make Garry a piece of toast!" Ib could feel Mary's expression sour. Their mother reentered the room and put her left hand on her forehead. "How could have I forgotten, it's been twice this week." She disappeared and reappeared in a matter of seconds. "Here Garry," she said to the air in front of her, "I was going to eat this later, but I understand that you'd want to eat with Mary and Ib." She paused for a moment as if she was listening to someone speaking to her. "Oh no, don't worry about me, I can wait for another piece of bread to toast, it's not like I'll wither away." Her smile was bright and cheery despite her talking to an empty chair. She put the plate on the table and poured the "three" of them juice.
"Ma, you do realize that Garry can't eat; Garry's not real" snapped Mary. Her mother shushed her. "Mary," she growled, "don't say that!" She directed her attention to Ib: "Of course Garry's real honey, don't listen to your sister." Mary turned to Ib. "Ib, stop believing in you make-believe boyfriend." Ib gasped. It was hurtful, but she understood. Mary never believed her. She thought that "imaginary friends" were child's play, and that was that. Ib knew her situation was different.
Having been fed up, Ib's mother pulled Mary aside. Ib could hear harshness in her as she eavesdropped on their conversations about Mary's old imaginary friend, Redeyes. Mary had hissed something about that being "when she was a baby" before she stomped back into the dining room. She turned to Ib and said: "I'm sorry sis, I'm really not that hungry anymore. I really hope you didn't want to eat breakfast with me." She ran the rest of the way upstairs. All there was left in the dining room was Ib and two-and-a-half slices of toast.
….
A/n: Okay so, I wanted to start writing this way earlier than I did, but apparently, I had to write a gazillion essays this week. Yea this is my first fanfic and all, and I plan to update frequently (or at least as frequently as my schoolwork allows). Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated because in the words of Hanna Montana: "Nobody's perfect". Did I get everything that everyone else usually puts in their a/n? Yea I think so. Hope you liked 3;DD