A sight from the future!
I've got one more sight. And this time I like what I see; a boy sits a few yards away from me. He hasn't noticed me yet. He is SO beautiful. He's like an angel. From this angle though. I want to talk to him, but I'm so nervous. What if he hates strangers who just start to talk to him? Aargh! I hate myself sometimes. Maybe it's worth it. Maybe he likes me. I don't know what to do! You have any ideas, sight book? Of course, you can't speak. That would be a miracle. Oh my god, he's turning around. OK, don't stare, Mary Alice. Don't stare, don't stare, don't stare. Don't let him meet your gaze. Maybe he hates that. Why can't I look away? Why is it impossible? He's meeting my gaze! Oh, no! *Gasp*. He's smiling at me. OK, Mary Alice, your turn to smile. I managed it. He rises up. He's walking toward me. Does he like me? Oh my god, Mary Alice, don't think like that. Of course he doesn't like a simple girl like you. What would your parents say if you told them about this? Well, I'm not going to tell them about my sights at all, so I shouldn't worry.
"Hello, miss! How beautiful you're dressed! I'm Jasper Whitlock! You are...?" he asked me. Oh my god, he gave me a compliment for my clothes. Mary Alice Brandon, answer him!
I open my mouth to answer him... "Ouch!" Someone kicked me in my foot. I look to see who it was. Damn it, my family is staring at me. The boy had so much of my attention that I didn't notice anyone else. Cynthia, my little sister, was giggling.
"Don't talk to strangers," my father hissed in a whisper.
Unfortunately, Jasper heard it. "Sir, you have a beautiful daughter, and I would love to know her, and maybe be her friend, if she wants. Under your permission, of course," he said while he is turned to my father.
If you asked my dad about me getting permission to anything, you would get a 'no' right away. But I still hope this wasn't the case now. This boy wanted to be my friend. He seemed polite. And he wasn't rude even to my dad. Dad just had to say yes.
Dad seemed a little confused. He was obviously not used to people who asked permission to be anyone's friend. "No," he said. My heart sunk to the bottom of my stomach. "My daughter shan't talk to anyone she, my wife or I don't know enough."
"I'm sorry I disturbed your evening, sir," Jasper said in a hurted, but polite, voice.
"Dad?" Cynthia said in her begging tone that mom and dad – for some strange reason – couldn't resist. She only used that voice when she wanted to annoy me. "When you said 'My daughter' in that case, did you mean me or Mary?" She knew the answer, but she wanted it out loud. She also knew I hated to be called just Mary.
"I meant just your sister in that case, honey. You can talk to whoever you want," dad answered her. They were always so unfair. Cynthia started to kick my knees under the table to have me look at her. I already knew which face she had on; it was the oh-how-unfair-for-you-NOT-expression. I wanted to kick her back, but I knew she would tell mom and dad so I got punished. I hated her of all my heart. I would have given much for a better life and a better family than this.
Ooups! Someone's coming.
Outside the book, in the real life:
Cynthia is bouncing into my little room. "Hey, Mary! What are you doing?" she asks me.
"Just... writing a little," I answer cautious. She sits down beside me in my short bed.
"What are you writing? I shall see!" she says. She never asks if she may see. It's like I don't have a choice.
"I'm writing my secret dreams," I tell her. I never totally lie to her. "Secret dreams that not even sisters shall read."
"That's unfair! I SHALL see!" she is getting angry. Damn it! I have to get her of it. I've got it; I can pre...
Wow! A surprising end, huh? Well, I can promise you: it's more were it comes from. Hehe! If someone is wondering where I come from, I'm from Norway. You know, that little, cold country up north. Ask me if you wondering! I'll be glad if you do. See ya!
