A/N: This story is ABSOLUTLY NOT BASED ON OR INSPRIED BY ANYONE
ELSE'S POSTS. It is 100% fiction and any similarities to other posts, Mary-
Sue or otherwise are in the eye of the beholder. Some sections are
supposed to be underlined, italicized, or somehow distinguished from the
rest of the story; but since none of that would upload they are book ended
by ~~ marks. And as always, please review!!
~~ "I love you, Serena." He told her. And she smiled. ~~
Christine set down her pen, tearing up at her own handiwork. She picked up the phone pad on which she'd composed her masterpiece, and hurried downstairs to transfer it to Microsoft Word. Poor Christine: she never re-read or edited her literary endeavors, which might have saved her a deal of heartache.
This story was her seventh or eighth, but it would be the only one under her name. The others had met their demise within a few days of being posted. This one was about "Serena", a broken-hearted elvish princess who joined the Fellowship and experienced inner conflict over her attraction to Legolas, whose father was at odds with Elrond. Serena was supposed to marry Legolas and reconcile the families' differences with her incomparable charm, but before she got that far, Christine's confidence was shattered by a familiar torrent of flames. After a good ten minutes of bitter sobbing over her keyboard, Christine deleted the story, watched some re-runs of the Mary Tyler Moore show, and vowed never to write another fanfiction. The next morning she was at it again:
~~Leah was a classic beauty with long, dark hair and honey colored eyes. She appeared to have everything a sixteen year old girl could want: looks, popularity, talent, and the captain of the soccer team as a boyfriend of six months; but sometimes she couldn't ignore a melancholy sense of dissatisfaction. ~~
Leah's physique was actually modeled after Christine's, to an extent. Christine didn't imagine Leah would have to brush knots out of her long, dark hair, or cut bubble gum out of it on a regular basis, but friendly brown eyes are only a few shades away from honey. Her life was drawn more from Christine's fantasy than her experience. Not to say that she led an especially normal one. Christine and four other oddballs had formed a film goers club that watched old movies on the weekends and dressed up for the premiere of newer ones. They also attended Iraq peace protests and park concerts. Naturally, they had been to see Lord of the Rings four of five times and were good friends with Sheila, the ticket vendor.
Since reading Lord of the Rings Christine had become taken with the idea of living in Middle Earth. She took advantage of every opportunity for wishing to wake up there (first stars, birthday candles, dandelion fluff, holding her breath in tunnels, and a few she had made up) and played mental games with herself to see what she would give up to be an elf (her tangled, gum ridden hair, her intellect, her right hand, her mobility.)
Noteworthy is that the characteristic in which Christine took the most personal pride did not appear in Leah's description. Christine was smart. With a 1030 on her SSATs, she was at the top of her year, but she didn't speak up much in class.
~~Leah lived at the very edge of town, and it was a long bus ride home from school. By the time she got home, it was usually dark or twilight. It was almost February, and tonight there wasn't even a moon to escort Leah to her front door. She was stepping onto the curb when she felt a sharp pain in the back of her head, and then there was nothing. ~~
"No, no, stupid." Christine could hear the flames already. Not to mention that her fourth story's real-world-to-Middle-Earth transition had involved a kidnapping.
~~Leah was reaching for her little brother's hand through the flames steadily consuming their home, when suddenly her lungs gave out and she was out cold. ~~
Christine scratched it out, beginning again with,
~~Uncle Max had always had unusually pointed ears. Or maybe he was her great uncle. Actually, no one was quite sure about his connection to the Bellmont family. ~~
She crumpled the sheet into a ball, tossed it at the waste paper basket and missed.
~~Leah was writing a fan fic, the only activity that gave some relief from the gnawing dissatisfaction. It was about a mare named Aerin, one of Shadowfax's distant relatives. Something passed by Leah's window, its hooded figure silhouetted in her curtains. She got up from her desk.~~
She got up from her desk, putting the phone pad aside, and started towards the kitchen. Christine caught her foot in the wire of her floor lamp, hit her head on the windowsill, and blacked out.
~~ "I love you, Serena." He told her. And she smiled. ~~
Christine set down her pen, tearing up at her own handiwork. She picked up the phone pad on which she'd composed her masterpiece, and hurried downstairs to transfer it to Microsoft Word. Poor Christine: she never re-read or edited her literary endeavors, which might have saved her a deal of heartache.
This story was her seventh or eighth, but it would be the only one under her name. The others had met their demise within a few days of being posted. This one was about "Serena", a broken-hearted elvish princess who joined the Fellowship and experienced inner conflict over her attraction to Legolas, whose father was at odds with Elrond. Serena was supposed to marry Legolas and reconcile the families' differences with her incomparable charm, but before she got that far, Christine's confidence was shattered by a familiar torrent of flames. After a good ten minutes of bitter sobbing over her keyboard, Christine deleted the story, watched some re-runs of the Mary Tyler Moore show, and vowed never to write another fanfiction. The next morning she was at it again:
~~Leah was a classic beauty with long, dark hair and honey colored eyes. She appeared to have everything a sixteen year old girl could want: looks, popularity, talent, and the captain of the soccer team as a boyfriend of six months; but sometimes she couldn't ignore a melancholy sense of dissatisfaction. ~~
Leah's physique was actually modeled after Christine's, to an extent. Christine didn't imagine Leah would have to brush knots out of her long, dark hair, or cut bubble gum out of it on a regular basis, but friendly brown eyes are only a few shades away from honey. Her life was drawn more from Christine's fantasy than her experience. Not to say that she led an especially normal one. Christine and four other oddballs had formed a film goers club that watched old movies on the weekends and dressed up for the premiere of newer ones. They also attended Iraq peace protests and park concerts. Naturally, they had been to see Lord of the Rings four of five times and were good friends with Sheila, the ticket vendor.
Since reading Lord of the Rings Christine had become taken with the idea of living in Middle Earth. She took advantage of every opportunity for wishing to wake up there (first stars, birthday candles, dandelion fluff, holding her breath in tunnels, and a few she had made up) and played mental games with herself to see what she would give up to be an elf (her tangled, gum ridden hair, her intellect, her right hand, her mobility.)
Noteworthy is that the characteristic in which Christine took the most personal pride did not appear in Leah's description. Christine was smart. With a 1030 on her SSATs, she was at the top of her year, but she didn't speak up much in class.
~~Leah lived at the very edge of town, and it was a long bus ride home from school. By the time she got home, it was usually dark or twilight. It was almost February, and tonight there wasn't even a moon to escort Leah to her front door. She was stepping onto the curb when she felt a sharp pain in the back of her head, and then there was nothing. ~~
"No, no, stupid." Christine could hear the flames already. Not to mention that her fourth story's real-world-to-Middle-Earth transition had involved a kidnapping.
~~Leah was reaching for her little brother's hand through the flames steadily consuming their home, when suddenly her lungs gave out and she was out cold. ~~
Christine scratched it out, beginning again with,
~~Uncle Max had always had unusually pointed ears. Or maybe he was her great uncle. Actually, no one was quite sure about his connection to the Bellmont family. ~~
She crumpled the sheet into a ball, tossed it at the waste paper basket and missed.
~~Leah was writing a fan fic, the only activity that gave some relief from the gnawing dissatisfaction. It was about a mare named Aerin, one of Shadowfax's distant relatives. Something passed by Leah's window, its hooded figure silhouetted in her curtains. She got up from her desk.~~
She got up from her desk, putting the phone pad aside, and started towards the kitchen. Christine caught her foot in the wire of her floor lamp, hit her head on the windowsill, and blacked out.
