A/N –Throws confetti- Hey readers! Guess what? Today is the one-year anniversary of Frogs! Hence the one-shot. I was going to do one for my one-year thing on the site, but I missed it, and besides, I think I updated on/ around that day. So yeah. This one-shot won't be as funny, a little more thoughtful-ish. Hopefully. I just wanted something up here. Plus I enjoy the letter format after Dear Fnick.
For the sake of my sanity, we're going to say that the flock left home (and the first book started) in May of 2008. I knowthat's very impossible for many reasons, okay? This is just for me and my sanity.
Listen to Glasgow Love theme towards the end... Such a prettyful song.
I am going to start now.
Disclaimer: One year later and I still don't own anything. Sigh.
May 18th 2009
Dear Whoever It May Concern,
Honestly, I really don't know why I'm doing this. Who's going to read this, anyways? It's not a very happy story. And it doesn't have an ending in sight. But hey. A year is a while. No one can deny that.
Still, I feel like I have to do something. Even if it is this- in all truth- stupid letter. But I mean, I can't just ignore this. If I had to pinpoint one day that changed my life, it'd be May 18th, 2008.
Because on May 17th, 2008, I had no idea that the very next day I'd be trying to save Angel. On May 17th I had no clue that the next morning, when I would leave, I'd never come back. On May 17th, I'd kidded myself into believing that the School would just forget about us.
If I'd known how much my life would change the very next day, I'd never had gone out picking those damn strawberries.
Exactly one year ago, everything changed. And I mean everything.
Has anyone besides me had an experience so beyond anything that's within their horizons that, later, when they're back to something that they know, it seems so...alien?
It's strange to think that I've been living this life for a year. Some days it feels like forever. Others it feels like I've just begun.
Now I struggle with questions that I'd never had thought of a year ago. How long can we last, running like we are now? How long will we live? What the hell am I supposed to do? What is the point of me existing? Obviously, I'm never going to have a normal life. So what's going to happen in another year? Two? Ten?
So besides obvious reasons what's changed that's been—good? Because, actually, some things are good now. For one thing, we're—the flock-- much closer. And we're –me and Fang—much closer. I know when I can break down and cry and when I've got to be strong. I know where our limits are. I know when to push and when to back off. I know many more things about my flock, things that one can only find out when you've been on the run.
Like, how Iggy feels like no one's ever going to love him, ever. How Nudge so, so wishes she was normal. That Fang doesn't talk because he wants to be sure he's saying exactly what he wants to. That Angel actually loves this life and she would never trade anything for her wings. That Gazzy is so much more protective of Angel than I could have imagine and that their bond goes much deeper than we thought. Oh, and that he should, under no circumstances be within ten miles of a Mexican restaurant.
Today is one of the days that feels like we've been running endlessly. But...well, no...it feels like we've been running for a lot longer than a year. One of those days when I feel older than fifteen. Not like the first time Fang kissed me and I actually kissed him back. Then I felt about...twelve. Really young.
Not like when on April Fools Day, Gazzy and Ig set off colored smoke bombs in a Wal-Mart parking lot. And Angel read a bunch of random people's minds and scared the living daylights out of them. Although it was funny, I felt like I was trying to babysit a bunch of little children. I felt twenty-ish then.
In January, I felt so lost. Because it really hit me then, for some reason, that we had no home. Well, we had Mom/Dr. Martinez's house. But it wasn't...like, our home. You know that saying 'Home is where the heart is?' Complete crap. My heart was with my family, obviously, but I still felt—homeless. To me, home equals safety. And we definitely didn't have that wherever we were. We didn't have it at the E shaped house either, but we kind of... purposely forgot about that. Out of sight, out of mind principal. But now... In January, I felt about a hundred.
Today started out like a hundred other. Iggy, who usually had the last watch, woke us up with breakfast, we began flying at ten or so, went to a town, bought some needed stuff, stopped for lunch, practiced flying manuvers, fighting, etc...then more flying, set up camp, dinner. Currently, we were on the West Coast. On a beach, actually. In the north. I still hadn't quite gotten over my phobia of beaches, but this one was deserted, as it was cold and there was fog everywhere. Plus, nothing had happened to us on the west coast. Not this far north.
So we were all sitting around, and it was like there was this huge elephant in the room no one wanted to talk about. I could tell they'd all figured out that today was the one-year anniversary of One Of the Worst Days of our Lives.
Finally Nudge said, "One year, huh?"
Then Iggy went "Yup."
And we all kind of sat there with our Ramen soup. Then Angel went unexpectedly, "Hey, remember when I brought those frogs from the pond and put them in the toilet when I was like, two?"
I laughed, nudging Fang. "You were flirting with me a lot that day, weren't you?" He kind of smiled a little.
"Oh yeah," Iggy put in. "And Nudge threw up."
Nudge glared at him. "Thanks."
Then Gazzy started singing, "We all know frogs go pop in the microwave, pop in the microwave, pop in the microwave, we all know frogs go pop in the microwave they don't go mm-aah- AHH!" Angel shoved him.
"Hey, and remember when I blew your jeans up?" Iggy added. I narrowed my gaze at him.
"That was probably a bad thing to bring up," I said, in my scary-Max voice.
"Hey," he replied, holding up his hands. "I did get you new ones."
"Oh, yeah," Nudge said slowly. "Did I set the washing machine on fire or something?"
"And I fixed it?" Fang said, actually grinning crookedly.
"I feel ostracized," Total sniffed.
And we just sat there for a while, trading stories, enjoying the fire. It even felt like we were normal people camping. Great, huh?
At eleven or so, Angel started nodding off, and the younger two followed soon after. Iggy, Fang and I stayed up later, talking about other things that they wouldn't have remembered. We even went back to the School, back to when Iggy could see. I'm not going into that discussion because, well, it's personal. But then at midnight or a little after, the guys went to bed and I went on watch. Which is where I'm writing this.
Why I'm writing this? I don't know. I feel like I needed to do something. I mean, a year is a really long time. And maybe we're not celebrating it or anything, but I've got to recognize it somehow. Not just talking at the campfire. Something a little more permanent.
I feel sort of nostalgic. Perfect word. Not sad, but not happy. Just sort of... bittersweet? I don't think I wish that this whole—fiasco—never happened to us. It would have been nice without the kidnapping and the pain and the injuries and the general annoyances, but it was like a firm kick in the ass. Otherwise, we might have been twenty-three and still hiding in a little house in Colorado.
Now, that would suck.
So thinking about it now, I feel like maybe it wasn't such a bad thing after all?
I mean, we can't stay like this forever, in limbo with no home. Eventually, I think we'll settle down with or close to Mom when we get too tired of this life of running from shadows. Because that's all Itex seems to be now, shadows. In the last few months, we've only had a couple of scares.
But for now, we seem to be enjoying ourselves. I don't think we could stand being in one place right at this time. But I think I'll be able to tell when we're done. I'm not real anxious. I've learned the art of living day by day. And it's actually quite Zen.
So.
I think that this was actually helpful. I really think when I write.
Maybe I should write a diary or something.
Yours,
Max
A/N: I'm actually not sure what the point of that one-shot was but I'm posting it.
This may make slightly more sense if you read my other two fanfics in this world, Frogs (one year!) and Jeans.
(Cue Jon Schmidt's Pachebel meets U2 here. (what I was listening to when I wrote this, which may explain a lot.))
And THANK YOU FANFICTION! I love this site and a lot of the people on it. I can't imagine the last year without it. There's such a lovely culture here. For example I've learned what smut, lemons, limes, one-shot, two-shot, drabble, R&R, slash, flames, Mary-Sues, Gary-Stus, fangirls, con-crit, fluff, posting, Fax (duh), and all that other stuff means. Oh, and a ton more. Like why I tend to update late at night, and that when I get a random idea that I should post it, because I actually get good reviews sometimes.
And that pagebreaks don't show up in Document Manager from Word.
And that you don't have to double space everything in your fanfic for the formatting to work.
And that at two AM, spell check is your best friend.
And that if you put FAX in your summary, you'll get three to eight more reviews, and if you say 'i suck at summarys' you will only get about three to eight reviews. And if you threaten to kill off a main character, you'll get fifteen more reviews. (Heh. Sorry about that.)
And that some really terrible writer think that they are amazing and some amazing authors think they're terrible.
That one really good review is worth ten 'omg luv dis update sooon plz!!1!!11' Although I do appreciate all those reviews too. I appreciate any type of review, even if it is a just a :). Cause guess what? YOU took time to review MY STORY and that's AMAZING.
Oh, and if you write with capitalization and proper punctuation, you seem intelligent, and if you don't, then you seem...strange.
I've also learned why llamas aren't blue.
Because sometimes life just sucks like that.
But sometimes life rocks. Like now.
(Insert happy BlueWingedKitty here.)
:D
Thanks guys!
BlueWingedKitty