Part Two: In the Eyes of the Ill - Vennita's Story
A/N: Yes, I am actually continuing this, in part because I liked it okay, and also because it was requested of me. So, I bring to you this story how Vennita saw everything that happened, up until the time of her death.
Chapter One: If You'll Pass On This Note
Vennita's POV
I awoke late that morning, a Friday morning. My condition was getting worse. Now it hurt even to breathe. I saw my older sister, Abigail, enter, and she brought me a tray of toast and orange juice. "No..." I croaked out, "I can't eat."
"Vennita, eat something, please. You haven't eaten for days, and you're getting sicker. At least have some of this orange juice. Please..."
"On one condition," I began, "Help me write to Dib."
"Vennita...I really don't know what to say to you. You know he hasn't answered one single note of yours, despite your illness. I'm not sure that he really is interested in finding out who you are."
"Abigail...that doesn't matter to me. I love him, whether he loves me or not. It is a pleasure to just know him. Please, help me write to him..."
"I talked to Gaz. She won't take them anymore."
"Put them in his desk, or something. Just make sure he receives them. At least I want him to know he's loved."
"All right. But promise me you'll eat your breakfast."
"I promise." She brought me my pen and paper, and placed the pen in my hand after removing the cap. I tried to write, but my hand quivered, and I couldn't get a decent letter down.
"Here. Let me help you." She placed her hand over mine, and on a new sheet of paper, she helped me form the words: 'Dib - Roses are red, Violets are blue, and I'm in love with you.' I paused. I wasn't sure whether to include my real name or not, or if he'd even remember me. Though technically I am his age, I was held back for not doing a report entitled: "Why Ghosts Don't Exist." I don't think he was required to do that, because he was in another class, though. The last time I was in his class - the fourth grade - was when I first met him. I remember it all...he walked into class late, and gave his excuse - that he was taken aboard a UFO and got dropped off back at skool late - and I knew that he was perfect. I knew the story was probably made-up, but it made me laugh and get to know a little about him. It's amazing how much that one line told me. His obsession with the paranormal, a sense of humor, and that he'd make for a good friend.
During lunch that first day, I talked to him, and he told me that he had been abducted by aliens as a baby, and how he said he thought they were trying to make him a super-intelligent baby, or something. I believed him there. Sometimes, just by how someone talks, the mental energy output, can tell me if they're being honest or not. I never told him of my affection, but when I looked at him, it was adoringly, and whether he thought I was just deeply engaged in our conversations or suspected the truth, it made him nervous. And we laughed.
But, sadly, our friendship was short-lived. I got transferred to a different classroom, which was a combination class of fourth and fifth graders, so I had a different lunch and a different recess. If I ever saw him, it would be in passing each other through the halls, and I didn't want to disturb him from his daily routine. I wanted to say hi, at least, but as days grew into weeks, and weeks into months, I decided that he had moved on, apart from me. So, I silently observed him, smiling, and thinking about him. Those few days we shared together as friends. I thought that I, too, would move on, and go my separate way, but I was the one with the crush on him, and my affection only grew stronger. I admired him from afar.
In the fifth grade, I looked forward to having the same lunchtime as he, so I could at least say hi, for old time's sake, but the skool did something I hadn't expected. I was still in the fourth/fifth grade combination class, this time as a fifth grader, but I had the fourth grade lunch and recess time. And I didn't speak a word to him. I still don't know why. I guess I was afraid that he wouldn't know me, or wouldn't like me, or think I was weird for still thinking about him after all that time. Consider me a pest. So I held back. And back. And back.
Sixth grade, the grade that he is in now and I would be in, had I not been held back last year, was interesting. I had actually decided to begin sending him love notes through his sister, who, coincidentally, is in my class, but no replies. Of course, they were anonymous, for I didn't feel it right to just not speak to him for two years and then send him notes telling him I was madly in love with him and sign my name. I didn't even say 'hi' once since the day I got transferred - back in the beginning of fourth grade.
And Zim. I didn't really get a good look at him, but enough to see that he was, most definitely, an alien. I saw him when Dib was chasing him around after skool. I was inside, but I looked through my classroom window, and I didn't really pay attention to Zim. I was paying attention to Dib. I saw another side to him that day. I saw that he was willing to defend the world full of people who had teased him, made fun of him, and called him crazy, despite everything they had done. I felt that took courage. Courage that I didn't have. If I had been in his shoes, the world would be doomed. Doomed.
I didn't try to help him out. He wanted the fame from it. Not I. He deserved it. He needed to accomplish it himself. My only purpose in helping him would be to let him know that he's not alone, and that someone cares, but I didn't have to interfere with his work to do that. Just love letters. I love him more than anything else, and I wouldn't want to take away his fame and respect that he's longed for since I can remember. Dib, you may not know that it is I who loves you so, but I always have and always will.
"Vennita? Are you going to sign your name this time? Or is it going to be another love letter anonymous?"
"Anonymous." With the help of my sister, I wrote, 'Your Secret Admirer.' I wanted so much to see him. "Do you think that package I mailed has made it already?"
"It might have. Vennita, don't cry! What's wrong?! I'm sure he'll love it!"
"W-w-what if I d-die before I s-see him a-again?"
"Vennita, you're not dying!"
"Y-yes, I am. I c-can't l-let Dib c-come, or he'll g-get s-sick, and d- die t-too."
"Vennita...you aren't going to die. About Dib...I'm sure he cares about you...even though he doesn't know you're sending him the letters, I'm sure he remembers you. You're not a very forgettable girl, Vennita. Especially to someone like Dib. You're just not. In fact, I go so far as to say that without a doubt you stole his heart."
"D-do you r-really th-think so?"
"I'm positive. I think it's almost lunchtime at the skool. I should go and slip this note in his desk."
"Goodbye, Abigail."
"Goodbye, Vennita. I promise I'll be back as soon as possible." And she left. From my drawer I pulled out a framed photograph of Dib. I had taken it myself from inside some bushes. It was actually a pretty recent photo, and it was when he walked off the bus from that field trip one time, only I felt it wasn't exactly a field trip, because he had that look that said, "I did it. I succeeded in saving Earth." I liked that picture. It showed his dedication to his task. I wanted a picture of us together. It was the one thing that I didn't enjoy about looking at him and thinking about him. That it wasn't 'us.'
"I love you, Dib." I rested my head back and fell asleep.
I hope you like it! More coming soon.
A/N: Yes, I am actually continuing this, in part because I liked it okay, and also because it was requested of me. So, I bring to you this story how Vennita saw everything that happened, up until the time of her death.
Chapter One: If You'll Pass On This Note
Vennita's POV
I awoke late that morning, a Friday morning. My condition was getting worse. Now it hurt even to breathe. I saw my older sister, Abigail, enter, and she brought me a tray of toast and orange juice. "No..." I croaked out, "I can't eat."
"Vennita, eat something, please. You haven't eaten for days, and you're getting sicker. At least have some of this orange juice. Please..."
"On one condition," I began, "Help me write to Dib."
"Vennita...I really don't know what to say to you. You know he hasn't answered one single note of yours, despite your illness. I'm not sure that he really is interested in finding out who you are."
"Abigail...that doesn't matter to me. I love him, whether he loves me or not. It is a pleasure to just know him. Please, help me write to him..."
"I talked to Gaz. She won't take them anymore."
"Put them in his desk, or something. Just make sure he receives them. At least I want him to know he's loved."
"All right. But promise me you'll eat your breakfast."
"I promise." She brought me my pen and paper, and placed the pen in my hand after removing the cap. I tried to write, but my hand quivered, and I couldn't get a decent letter down.
"Here. Let me help you." She placed her hand over mine, and on a new sheet of paper, she helped me form the words: 'Dib - Roses are red, Violets are blue, and I'm in love with you.' I paused. I wasn't sure whether to include my real name or not, or if he'd even remember me. Though technically I am his age, I was held back for not doing a report entitled: "Why Ghosts Don't Exist." I don't think he was required to do that, because he was in another class, though. The last time I was in his class - the fourth grade - was when I first met him. I remember it all...he walked into class late, and gave his excuse - that he was taken aboard a UFO and got dropped off back at skool late - and I knew that he was perfect. I knew the story was probably made-up, but it made me laugh and get to know a little about him. It's amazing how much that one line told me. His obsession with the paranormal, a sense of humor, and that he'd make for a good friend.
During lunch that first day, I talked to him, and he told me that he had been abducted by aliens as a baby, and how he said he thought they were trying to make him a super-intelligent baby, or something. I believed him there. Sometimes, just by how someone talks, the mental energy output, can tell me if they're being honest or not. I never told him of my affection, but when I looked at him, it was adoringly, and whether he thought I was just deeply engaged in our conversations or suspected the truth, it made him nervous. And we laughed.
But, sadly, our friendship was short-lived. I got transferred to a different classroom, which was a combination class of fourth and fifth graders, so I had a different lunch and a different recess. If I ever saw him, it would be in passing each other through the halls, and I didn't want to disturb him from his daily routine. I wanted to say hi, at least, but as days grew into weeks, and weeks into months, I decided that he had moved on, apart from me. So, I silently observed him, smiling, and thinking about him. Those few days we shared together as friends. I thought that I, too, would move on, and go my separate way, but I was the one with the crush on him, and my affection only grew stronger. I admired him from afar.
In the fifth grade, I looked forward to having the same lunchtime as he, so I could at least say hi, for old time's sake, but the skool did something I hadn't expected. I was still in the fourth/fifth grade combination class, this time as a fifth grader, but I had the fourth grade lunch and recess time. And I didn't speak a word to him. I still don't know why. I guess I was afraid that he wouldn't know me, or wouldn't like me, or think I was weird for still thinking about him after all that time. Consider me a pest. So I held back. And back. And back.
Sixth grade, the grade that he is in now and I would be in, had I not been held back last year, was interesting. I had actually decided to begin sending him love notes through his sister, who, coincidentally, is in my class, but no replies. Of course, they were anonymous, for I didn't feel it right to just not speak to him for two years and then send him notes telling him I was madly in love with him and sign my name. I didn't even say 'hi' once since the day I got transferred - back in the beginning of fourth grade.
And Zim. I didn't really get a good look at him, but enough to see that he was, most definitely, an alien. I saw him when Dib was chasing him around after skool. I was inside, but I looked through my classroom window, and I didn't really pay attention to Zim. I was paying attention to Dib. I saw another side to him that day. I saw that he was willing to defend the world full of people who had teased him, made fun of him, and called him crazy, despite everything they had done. I felt that took courage. Courage that I didn't have. If I had been in his shoes, the world would be doomed. Doomed.
I didn't try to help him out. He wanted the fame from it. Not I. He deserved it. He needed to accomplish it himself. My only purpose in helping him would be to let him know that he's not alone, and that someone cares, but I didn't have to interfere with his work to do that. Just love letters. I love him more than anything else, and I wouldn't want to take away his fame and respect that he's longed for since I can remember. Dib, you may not know that it is I who loves you so, but I always have and always will.
"Vennita? Are you going to sign your name this time? Or is it going to be another love letter anonymous?"
"Anonymous." With the help of my sister, I wrote, 'Your Secret Admirer.' I wanted so much to see him. "Do you think that package I mailed has made it already?"
"It might have. Vennita, don't cry! What's wrong?! I'm sure he'll love it!"
"W-w-what if I d-die before I s-see him a-again?"
"Vennita, you're not dying!"
"Y-yes, I am. I c-can't l-let Dib c-come, or he'll g-get s-sick, and d- die t-too."
"Vennita...you aren't going to die. About Dib...I'm sure he cares about you...even though he doesn't know you're sending him the letters, I'm sure he remembers you. You're not a very forgettable girl, Vennita. Especially to someone like Dib. You're just not. In fact, I go so far as to say that without a doubt you stole his heart."
"D-do you r-really th-think so?"
"I'm positive. I think it's almost lunchtime at the skool. I should go and slip this note in his desk."
"Goodbye, Abigail."
"Goodbye, Vennita. I promise I'll be back as soon as possible." And she left. From my drawer I pulled out a framed photograph of Dib. I had taken it myself from inside some bushes. It was actually a pretty recent photo, and it was when he walked off the bus from that field trip one time, only I felt it wasn't exactly a field trip, because he had that look that said, "I did it. I succeeded in saving Earth." I liked that picture. It showed his dedication to his task. I wanted a picture of us together. It was the one thing that I didn't enjoy about looking at him and thinking about him. That it wasn't 'us.'
"I love you, Dib." I rested my head back and fell asleep.
I hope you like it! More coming soon.