THE MORAL COMMITTEE ::: PROLOGUE ::: BOYS ARE HORRIBLE ! ( ≧Д≦)
Dear diary,
Another hard day at school today! Ugh! It's getting so miserable with those insane brothers wandering around reeking havoc on the school and everybody who attends it! They've been trouble since back even when we were young! I remember when Buttercup used to always get in a fight with dark haired one, and Blossom always fought with the red head back when we all went to kindergarten together.
But not anymore!
As vice president of the Moral Committee it is (partially) my duty to keep our beloved high school a safe and suitable sanctuary for our learning!—
"Whatcha writing, huh Bubs?"
She shrieked in appall, Bubbles, ripping her fluffed and fuzzy white and pale blue pillows from their position on top of her bed, down to smother and hide the blue book beneath them. "W— what're you doing...in my room!?"
"Whadoya' mean! You don't like me in here anymore," she protested playfully, red hair flinging throughout the air in their tussle for dominance in their silk nightgowns. As the sisters fought, rolling in Bubbles' bed with fingers locked until once would mount the other and render them powerless, Blossom sat high on her sister's abdomen and shoved Bubbles' wrists down into the soft comforter, "We used to share a room and a bed y'know!"
Bubbles turned her head, her orbs of ocean blue distorted from the heat which permeated her rosy face from embarrassment. She squeezed them tightly closed and blasted her tight lipped mouth open to release a desperate howl, "Blossom, get off of me! You...you're freakin' heavy!"
With every ounce of her pent up strength, Bubbles thrashed beneath the body of her captor and thrusted herself forward, shoving Blossom down to the mattress's pillow top. Time stood still for several, silent seconds, as the eye contact exchanged between women hadn't ceased. Blossom's fiery hot reddish-brown mixing and cooling in her sister's ice cold crystal blues. Bubbles' cheeks puffed out and pink from frustration.
"I...I hate it..." She began, scattered and woeful.
"Bubbles?" Blossom retorted with a whimper of concern.
"When you guys pick on me!" Bubbles bellowed out to the heavens, her voice high and raised, and her hands scavenging every ticklish portion of Blossom's body that she knew of. This was her weakness, and only her sisters knew. Blossom would absolutely die if any outsider were to find out that beneath her hard exterior, she was a simple teenage girl who crumbled weak beneath the power of a good tickling.
Blossom cried out in uncontrollable laughter, her body stirring up the blankets and sheets atop Bubbles' bed as she flailed for freedom, "O—okay, okay! I'm so— I'm sorry! Bubbles! Stop! S— stop...STOP!" She pleaded, she begged in chirping cries that ripped from her throat at their highest ring. Her eyes watered and blurry with tears, her distorted gaze pointed to the door, where she made out the silhouette of another woman. She extended her arm, her hand out to the door and the woman within its threshold, a desperate plea for a much needed rescue, "B—Buttercup! Buttercup, help! HELP ME BUTTERCUP!"
"Alright— alright! Jeez, shut yer damn trap already," Buttercup snarled, wiggling her ear with her fingers to regain her hearing after Blossom's onslaught of piercing shrills. The third of the triplet sisters finally entered, Buttercup in her forest green cotton boy shorts and matching bra, just barely dressed after coming out of the shower last. She snatched one of hundreds of fluffy pillows off from Bubbles' bed, and swung it through the air to hit her in the back of her pretty blonde head. Bubbles chirped in detest, her hands coming up from their place on Blossom's frame, to shield her head from several more pillow attacks, allowing Blossom, her chance for freedom.
She took it graciously, Blossom, turning her sister over and taking another powder blue pillow from the bed to join in on the assault with Buttercup. Two against one in the unfair game of triplet pillow fight— "Ow!" Blossom yelped in gripe. And the pillow war, came, to a screeching halt.
"You—" She snapped venomously at Buttercup, "hit me!"
"Oh, come on," Buttercup sneered, "it's a pillow! How much could that've possibly hurt!?"
"A lot considering your man hands were the ones behind it!"
"Who're you callin' 'man hands' sister...?" Buttercup said stiffly. Her forehead compacted tightly against Blossom's, hazel green eyes meet reddish-brown in a clash for dominance. The electricity running between the two siblings eyes was so blatantly tangible at this point, that neither one dared to look away from the other, or one would lose the fight.
Bubbles took this as her one and only opening, and finally, she launched into her attack. She took another pillow, and maliciously swung it both her sister's heads, knocking them out of their staring contest. "I told you guys to get— out!" Her demanding wail bounced off her virgin white walls and into their ears. "Dammit, that smarts..." Buttercup growled.
"Stop cursing in my room!" Bubbles implored, "Gosh! Can't you two respect my privacy!?"
"There's nothing private when your bedroom door's wide open..." Blossom murmured, she and Buttercup snickering deviously. Bubbles' face ripped into a wave of hot pink, and her body, quaking.
"Whatcha doin' that's so private anyway!? Huh!?" Buttercup teased maliciously, and hurled herself over her sisters body to topple down on the bed. Blossom giggled, the palm of her hand covering her hot pink lips that curved into a dark smile. "What are you implying!?" Bubbles lamented, "Blossom you know exactly what I was doing! You came in first! Quit laughing at me—e—e!"
"Relax, Bubbles! We're just kidding," Blossom blared in laughter, "can't you take a joke? Quit whining all the time!" She toppled over both Buttercup and Bubbles' bodies completing their dog pile, and stretched out to grab hold of a violet stuffed octopus resting peacefully among the ruckus, "You still have this thing!?"
"Cut it out!" Bubbled yapped, "Professor gave that to me!"
"Neh neh neh neh neh neh neh!" Buttercup mocked, "Pipe down before he comes up here and—!"
"—Girls?"
"Crap—" Blossom snapped sharply under her breath, all three girls paralyzed in an ice cold nature as the footsteps of their father drew nearer. He came towards their threshold, his voice nearing closer, closer—
"One of you...called?" He said, and peered into the room with inquisitive narrowed eyes. Only Bubbles sat in her bed, blankets yanked over her legs and stopping at her waist. Nervous, and smiling at the man in is late forties and white t-shirt and black pajama pants, standing in her door. "Bubbles?"
"Y—yes, Professor?" She stuttered, anxious. He looked about her room once more, and then laid his dark eyes back directly on her, "Did you call for me?"
"No, sir!"
"Oh...well..." He blinked once, twice, engulfed in silence for several seconds as the two only stared at one another in patience for the other's response, "I see."
She smiled, cocking her head to the side and waving her hand, an obvious gesture of dismissal, "Goodnight, Professor!"
He nodded and flipped the switch of her light, enrobing both bubbles, and her room, in complete darkness. On the other side of the door, he could hear the inside of the room, and the unveiling of the two missing sisters as they came up from their hiding spot on the other side of the bed and whispered, "That was a close one...!"
"Quiet you idiot! He could still be outside the door...!"
He couldn't help but laugh, slyly. Distancing himself further and further away from the door, to the stairs where he took his steps lightly all the way down to the bottom floor, and closed himself off in is room. Exhausted.
Thinking.
Professor, he griped to himself inwardly, and then, he laughed. Had his wife been here, she too would've found humor in such a nickname. Just the very memory of how it came to be brought him inner happiness and warmth...
"Dad?" Bubbles squeaked giddily, running her fingers across the laminated encasing of her father's clip on name tag hanging from the breast pocket of his white lab coat, "What does...P-R mean? And why is it on your name tag? I thought your name was dad!"
He blinked, silent for a moment as he too looked down to his tag, and righted it before her and her sister's gleaming curious eyes, "Pr.? Why, it stands for professor—"
"What's a professor?" Blossom chirped inquisitively, "Why does your name tag say professor?"
"Well, it says professor because...I'm a professor. And the people at work call me professor!"
"Can I call you professor?" Bubbles peeped.
He stared at her for a moment, racking his brain for an answer.
But how could anyone deny a face like that?
"Sure," he chuckled, and patted her atop her blonde head. Buttercup jumped up from in front of the tv, off the carpeted floor, quick in objection.
"Hey, no fair!" She cried, "How come only she gets to call you professor!?"
"Yeah," Blossom cosigned with her sister's bellowing, "I wanna call you professor too!"
"Professor!" All three small girls brayed in unison, and all three snapped sharp eyes upon each other. And again, all three barked together in harmonious unison and aggressive tone,
"No! I call him professor!"
He chuckled softly. If she had still been alive...she...
"Not tonight," he grumbled to himself, sliding the palms of his heavy hands down his face and flopping down onto his bed. He wouldn't worry himself with such meaningless thoughts tonight, as he had done before. The night before, and even, the night before that...no. Not another night would he find himself woeful in is sleep, he had three lively daughters on the floor directly above him, counting on him to be the support they need.
They...do count on me...don't they?
What if I'm not enough...? I can't be their rock...if I can't even help myself.
Maybe they don't count on me.
He recollects silently, face down in his bed. The day that his three beautiful princesses were brought onto the Earth, the very same day that his Queen expired after giving them life. He remembers to this day, the enigma that radiated off their charming features, with two of the three toddlers taking after their mother, and only Buttercup was the one out of the three of them that held his features. With dark hair, and hazel green eyes.
Bubbles and Blossom on the other hand, had both been born blonde. Blossom's hair turning to an oranger, strawberry blonde than pure blonde, as Bubbles'. He remembers the days that she'd dread it's color, the days that she'd gone to school and come home in tears because of her bullies, and she would come to him to wipe them away.
How in her early teen years, she'd dyed it completely, an orange-red color— the same color it is to this very day, as she's kept up with it. And the emotions he'd felt when she'd tainted her beautiful hair with such a permanent chemical. The sadness he felt when he watched his wife's features, vanish from his daughter's image.
And Buttercup, Buttercup who'd always been the rambunctious, rebellious, fighter that she is to this day, since she was young. But even then, she still counted on him to lift her spirits when they had fallen. He can remember clearly, every detail and emotion he felt, when she'd come home one day with her ears pierced after hiding them from him for...how long had she said she'd had them?
He remembers his struggling with figuring out how to deal with such a situation, and how hard it was to accept them, and tell her it was okay. A gesture which he later came to regret when she'd come home with two more, silver rings in the cartilage of both her ears, and her long black silk cut completely off to a short crop on her head. Oh yes, he remembers that stage of Punk Rock she'd gone through, and how silly it was that he'd actually gone online to find out whether it was normal in teen girls to hit such a phase...
Today, he breathes a sigh of relief that she's grown out of it. But still, she keeps her piercings, and her short hair, as a reminder that it was once a phase in her life.
And then, there's Bubbles.
His last princess, his most fragile, still pure to the outsides social "acceptance" theories. Still pure blonde and innocent.
She is innocent. Right?
As of late, there has been little to no communication about school life of social life from any of the girls to their father. He has absolutely no idea what's going on in their lives. But perhaps...that's how all teenagers are. Maybe.
Damn it's hard, raising your very first batch of triplet daughters into adulthood on your own.
At least they're strong, he decided, and sighed heavily in anguish. He pulled his blankets up and over his tired body, burying himself beneath their comfort, and his head, into his pillow.
At least they're strong. He told himself one more time, and fitfully, fell into a deep slumber.
XXX
—As I was saying...
After making complete assurance that her room was empty, and her door had been shut completely. Bubbles resumed writing in her diary, picking up where she'd left off, using the light of her cellphone as her guide in the dark of her room, and beneath her blankets.
—Ugh! I'm always treated like the youngest, just because I was born last...that isn't fair! We're triplets! We all have the same birthday! Anyway...
Where was I?
Oh yeah!
Those three brothers...they drive me up the wall! In fact, they drive all of us crazy! And to think, that we're so much alike in a way that it's almost kinda creepy. But maybe that's why they feel like they have to bother us so much? I don't know. Boys are weird. I just wonder what went so wrong with them that they have to cause chaos for others to make themselves feel better! Or maybe it's just another thing boys like to do? Pick on girls?
She yawned quietly, glancing over to her phone to check the time: 10:05 PM. Jotting down these final few words before she'd turn in and go to bed,
Boys are horrible!
...But big sisters are worse.
Tada! Prologue, everybody. I'm kinda excited about this fiction, I've been planning it for quite some time and I'm finally taking the initiative to write it while I've got some free time! Hopefully, I won't stop updating!
Also: The Rowdyruff Boys...I had a huge crush. (*≧艸≦)
Remember to leave a review! I hope you enjoyed!
