March 16
When you're a little girl, you always dream of what you are going to look like walking down the aisle. I could count the beads on my wedding dress; I could tell you how many tears ran down my face; I could relive every passionate moment I experienced. And It hasn't even happened yet.
I sat on the roof of the school. Not for any particular reason, really, but there's something beautiful about the sky from This view. I was almost happy sitting there, because I WASN'T living a lie in the sky. I wasn't living there at all.
Colors danced sensationally on the canvas. I love sunsets. I was never poetic enough to describe it, but there's this feeling you get. The same feeling you get when the wind blows softly or someone smiles at you with no motivation. Another moment of suicidal happiness. Nothing gets better than absolute nothingness. You and the sky. I twisted a strand of hair, thinking about nothing in particular. More involuntary thoughts, of course. School, friends, movies, music and clothes drifted around the center of my universe. Guess who?
"Miranda?" A voice interrupted my thoughts and I turned my head, annoyed. I pulled my sleeve down, which was a new nervous habit of mine.
"Parker?," I gaped at the girl standing over me. She sat down next to me, staring to the sunset too.
"You come up here too, huh?," She smiled vaguely. "I do, when I have to think."
"What are you thinking about?," I surprised myself by asking. I never particularly liked Parker. We weren't friends; we thought each other weird.
"Life," She picked a pebble off the ground and threw it in the direction of the sunset. "In general, really." She repeated the process, talking about her life as though it was casual conversation. "You see, I don't really feel connected with anyone now. Like, I'm some sort of weirdo or something." She laughed bitterly. "You know I haven't been on a date in a year? Yeah. I'm not hot to trot lately." She sighed. "It's times like these you wonder, 'hey, am I a lesbian or something? And if so, is there a big label on my head?'. Screwed up." She threw more rocks as I stared at her. WHY was she telling me this?
"I think I know what you mean," I amazed myself again. "I don't really trust guys anymore."
"Except Gordo," She smiled. "You trust HIM." Did EVERYONE know? No, I was being paranoid. I blinked and her knowing smile was gone.
"Well, he is my best friend," I responded quickly. I must have imagined her smirk.
"I always liked Gordo," She nodded. "Smart guy." Short guy, I thought, but said nothing. She sighed. "I've been such an idiot. My entire life, really." She closed her eyes. "I'm moving soon. Some where far, far away. I'm so happy I don't have to wait to get away from this place." She opened her eyes again, looking at me. "I almost wish ALL my problems could be left here. My mother's pregnant. Can you believe that? I'm going to be over a decade older than my sibling. I acted SO immature towards it." The wind blew, shaking the tree tops.
"Well, I just found out my dad's gay," I said flatly. My heart sped up a little. Why was I telling PARKER this?
"Oh, yeah? How'd you react?," She glanced at me. I silently rolled up my sleeve, revealing the red flashing against my wrist. She raised her eyebrows. "That bad, huh?"
"Honestly? I don't think that's why I did it," I shook my head, staring off into the colors. "Things are just so screwed up, but every time I complain, I feel so RETARDED. I mean, I'm sitting here complaining about something I can live with."
"Hey, we all do stupid shit," She touched my arm. Was it just me, or was I suddenly collecting friends fast?
"I'm afraid of change, but I want it," I watched the world below us. Dogs barking, a few people walking around, laughter. We sat in silence for a few minutes, the same thoughts running through our heads. How did this happen? I glanced down at my scar. I almost smiled at it, but I'm not sure why. Parker suddenly reached out and ran her finger down it in utter fascination.
"Don't be ashamed of mistakes, Miranda," She stood up. "Hiding is a lot worse than the truth." And with that, she left. Too bad I only knew how to hide. I am truly secluded and obscured.
~@~
There's something great about mystery. People generally thirst for knowledge, because it equals power. That I-know-something-you-don't-know type of thing. I've always pretended I wanted power, as people often do, but secretly there is nothing I want less. When you have power over people, you must be perfect. People are constantly waiting for you to fall on your face; waiting for you to screw up; waiting for you to be impeached so they can move on and maybe get their own 15 minutes of fame. Isn't ignorance bliss? What you don't know can't hurt you. And the thing is, that IS true. If I hadn't found out half the things I know, I'd be a hell of a lot happier. Sure, ignorance is destined to blow up in your face, but it does come with a short lived happiness, unlike the knowledgeable.
Finding a rose gripping my locker was the perfect mystery.
I love roses. These elegant flowers that can represent just about everything, from beauty to life to death to joy to depression; it was all so fabulous you just couldn't pick one. Mom would be excited. Then, I remembered, I hadn't seen her sit still in about a week. Dad I still hadn't seen, and I didn't bother to ask after him.
"Who's THAT from?," Gordo gaped.
"It doesn't have a note," I said, astounded. I secretly hoped Gordo was an excellent actor and was sending them to me, but it was doubtful.
"Ooh, Miranda has a BOYFRIEND," He smiled playfully. "Interesting flower choice, really. The flower of LOVE, I do believe. Or sex; society really has changed these things around." I frowned down at the flower. There was that word again. Love. Why did people have to be such romantics? I stuffed in my locker. Why did I have to be in love with the wrong person?
"Any guesses who Romeo might be?," He questioned, walking down the hall with me.
"No, I don't," I smiled a little. "Though I have hopes." He raised his eyebrows at me, begging me to continue. "And I'm not telling you."
"Oh, come now," He whined. "Am I your best friend or aren't I? Wait, bad grammar. Or was that right? What did I say? Oh, screw it. Aren't I your best friend?"
"Yes," I said quietly. "Yes, you are." I grabbed a cafeteria tray. And, strangely enough, I said, "It's Larry. Larry Tudgeman." Gordo dropped his tray and looked at me. I couldn't keep a straight face.
"Had me scared there," He picked up his tray again.
"I have that effect on people." I glanced over at Lizzie, sitting with Kate. They flipped their blonde hair at the exact same time. I had never managed that soul-mate-twin-sister relationship with anyone. I had never had anyone who finished my sentences, who looked like me, who dressed like me. I had never-ending faith in my complete opposites.
Lizzie must have noticed me, because she started to wave at us. We smiled and waved back, but nothing more. Wounds don't heal that easily. I watched Larry walk by and winked at Lizzie. She managed a weak smile, but turned back to Kate. Okay. DON'T watch your crush walk by. That must be a Miranda only thing.
As we proceeded through lunch, a horrible thought came to my head. Lizzie LIED. The obviousness of it all was RIDICULOUS. I should've seen it. Larry. He was a nice guy and all, but Lizzie hadn't talked to him in years, PERSONALLY. And THAT'S when my next theory came up. Lizzie must still have feelings for GORDO. I felt a mixture of anger and gratefulness towards her. She had lied, but for the sake of my feelings. I felt so stupid it was so OBVIOUS.
"Are you okay?," Gordo questioned as I pushed the tray away, holding my head in my hand.
"Uh, sudden headache," I murmured. I didn't take my eyes off Lizzie as she got up. "Uh, I'm going to the nurse's office."
"Do you need any help?," He asked worriedly.
"No, I'm fine," I waved vaguely, following Lizzie out of the lunchroom. I would merely stop her and tell her I knew and that she didn't need to bother lying. It's fine. I'm fine with it. It's not some competition. Is it?
My stomach jumped as I stopped suddenly, watching Lizzie carefully tape a rose to my locker.
And it was then I was truly mad at Lizzie McGuire. Not only did she lie to me, she was trying to make me think I had a secret admirer! She run in the other direction quickly, not noticing me storming over to my locker. I ripped off the rose so suddenly A thorn tore across my arm. I yelped in pain and looked at my wrist. The thorn scratched my scar into an unclosed triangle. The light scratch glistened. Without thinking, I put to semicircles on the top with the thorn, wincing. It was now a heart.
"Miranda, what the HELL are you doing?" Uh oh. Why can't Gordo ever stay in the cafeteria when I need him to?
A/N: Heh, Heh, Heh. I'm EVIL. Okay, I possibly might do editing to this chapter, because it might give off the opposite vibes as wanted. But for now, it stays. EVILLLL AMMMM IIIII. Anyway, I want fifty reviews. I really do. Actually, I want 100, but I'll start at 50. Actually, Right now I'm working for 30, but LET'S WORK TOGETHER PEOPLE! I have an issue with keeping this story un-updated. It BOTHERS me. I just updated it today, but the chapter was so SHORT. Oh, goodness. Just review. PLEASE???
Love-fool: Don't we all? Bunches o' thanks!
Keeponwritin: A funky pink high top I am. Short, sweet, and to the point. But this chapter; no. No. Thank you!!!
Caley: Ooh! A NEW REVIEWER!!! WELCOMING TIME!!! ::sings special song and does dance:: erm, anyway, yes. Thanks a bunch, and I completely agree.
Adam4me: Glad you love it! I am hoping to be a writer, because I don't devote my entire life to just fan fics. No..never. not me. Thank you!!
Baby-Angel aka Lala: Heh, Heh, Heh. Look at THIS!! You're my question lovie, aren't you now? That's cool. I like it when My readers show an interest in what's going on. It shows good observational skills. I LOVE YOU. YES. I DO. ::stops speaking baby talk like an idiot:: well, yes, anyway, thanks!
When you're a little girl, you always dream of what you are going to look like walking down the aisle. I could count the beads on my wedding dress; I could tell you how many tears ran down my face; I could relive every passionate moment I experienced. And It hasn't even happened yet.
I sat on the roof of the school. Not for any particular reason, really, but there's something beautiful about the sky from This view. I was almost happy sitting there, because I WASN'T living a lie in the sky. I wasn't living there at all.
Colors danced sensationally on the canvas. I love sunsets. I was never poetic enough to describe it, but there's this feeling you get. The same feeling you get when the wind blows softly or someone smiles at you with no motivation. Another moment of suicidal happiness. Nothing gets better than absolute nothingness. You and the sky. I twisted a strand of hair, thinking about nothing in particular. More involuntary thoughts, of course. School, friends, movies, music and clothes drifted around the center of my universe. Guess who?
"Miranda?" A voice interrupted my thoughts and I turned my head, annoyed. I pulled my sleeve down, which was a new nervous habit of mine.
"Parker?," I gaped at the girl standing over me. She sat down next to me, staring to the sunset too.
"You come up here too, huh?," She smiled vaguely. "I do, when I have to think."
"What are you thinking about?," I surprised myself by asking. I never particularly liked Parker. We weren't friends; we thought each other weird.
"Life," She picked a pebble off the ground and threw it in the direction of the sunset. "In general, really." She repeated the process, talking about her life as though it was casual conversation. "You see, I don't really feel connected with anyone now. Like, I'm some sort of weirdo or something." She laughed bitterly. "You know I haven't been on a date in a year? Yeah. I'm not hot to trot lately." She sighed. "It's times like these you wonder, 'hey, am I a lesbian or something? And if so, is there a big label on my head?'. Screwed up." She threw more rocks as I stared at her. WHY was she telling me this?
"I think I know what you mean," I amazed myself again. "I don't really trust guys anymore."
"Except Gordo," She smiled. "You trust HIM." Did EVERYONE know? No, I was being paranoid. I blinked and her knowing smile was gone.
"Well, he is my best friend," I responded quickly. I must have imagined her smirk.
"I always liked Gordo," She nodded. "Smart guy." Short guy, I thought, but said nothing. She sighed. "I've been such an idiot. My entire life, really." She closed her eyes. "I'm moving soon. Some where far, far away. I'm so happy I don't have to wait to get away from this place." She opened her eyes again, looking at me. "I almost wish ALL my problems could be left here. My mother's pregnant. Can you believe that? I'm going to be over a decade older than my sibling. I acted SO immature towards it." The wind blew, shaking the tree tops.
"Well, I just found out my dad's gay," I said flatly. My heart sped up a little. Why was I telling PARKER this?
"Oh, yeah? How'd you react?," She glanced at me. I silently rolled up my sleeve, revealing the red flashing against my wrist. She raised her eyebrows. "That bad, huh?"
"Honestly? I don't think that's why I did it," I shook my head, staring off into the colors. "Things are just so screwed up, but every time I complain, I feel so RETARDED. I mean, I'm sitting here complaining about something I can live with."
"Hey, we all do stupid shit," She touched my arm. Was it just me, or was I suddenly collecting friends fast?
"I'm afraid of change, but I want it," I watched the world below us. Dogs barking, a few people walking around, laughter. We sat in silence for a few minutes, the same thoughts running through our heads. How did this happen? I glanced down at my scar. I almost smiled at it, but I'm not sure why. Parker suddenly reached out and ran her finger down it in utter fascination.
"Don't be ashamed of mistakes, Miranda," She stood up. "Hiding is a lot worse than the truth." And with that, she left. Too bad I only knew how to hide. I am truly secluded and obscured.
~@~
There's something great about mystery. People generally thirst for knowledge, because it equals power. That I-know-something-you-don't-know type of thing. I've always pretended I wanted power, as people often do, but secretly there is nothing I want less. When you have power over people, you must be perfect. People are constantly waiting for you to fall on your face; waiting for you to screw up; waiting for you to be impeached so they can move on and maybe get their own 15 minutes of fame. Isn't ignorance bliss? What you don't know can't hurt you. And the thing is, that IS true. If I hadn't found out half the things I know, I'd be a hell of a lot happier. Sure, ignorance is destined to blow up in your face, but it does come with a short lived happiness, unlike the knowledgeable.
Finding a rose gripping my locker was the perfect mystery.
I love roses. These elegant flowers that can represent just about everything, from beauty to life to death to joy to depression; it was all so fabulous you just couldn't pick one. Mom would be excited. Then, I remembered, I hadn't seen her sit still in about a week. Dad I still hadn't seen, and I didn't bother to ask after him.
"Who's THAT from?," Gordo gaped.
"It doesn't have a note," I said, astounded. I secretly hoped Gordo was an excellent actor and was sending them to me, but it was doubtful.
"Ooh, Miranda has a BOYFRIEND," He smiled playfully. "Interesting flower choice, really. The flower of LOVE, I do believe. Or sex; society really has changed these things around." I frowned down at the flower. There was that word again. Love. Why did people have to be such romantics? I stuffed in my locker. Why did I have to be in love with the wrong person?
"Any guesses who Romeo might be?," He questioned, walking down the hall with me.
"No, I don't," I smiled a little. "Though I have hopes." He raised his eyebrows at me, begging me to continue. "And I'm not telling you."
"Oh, come now," He whined. "Am I your best friend or aren't I? Wait, bad grammar. Or was that right? What did I say? Oh, screw it. Aren't I your best friend?"
"Yes," I said quietly. "Yes, you are." I grabbed a cafeteria tray. And, strangely enough, I said, "It's Larry. Larry Tudgeman." Gordo dropped his tray and looked at me. I couldn't keep a straight face.
"Had me scared there," He picked up his tray again.
"I have that effect on people." I glanced over at Lizzie, sitting with Kate. They flipped their blonde hair at the exact same time. I had never managed that soul-mate-twin-sister relationship with anyone. I had never had anyone who finished my sentences, who looked like me, who dressed like me. I had never-ending faith in my complete opposites.
Lizzie must have noticed me, because she started to wave at us. We smiled and waved back, but nothing more. Wounds don't heal that easily. I watched Larry walk by and winked at Lizzie. She managed a weak smile, but turned back to Kate. Okay. DON'T watch your crush walk by. That must be a Miranda only thing.
As we proceeded through lunch, a horrible thought came to my head. Lizzie LIED. The obviousness of it all was RIDICULOUS. I should've seen it. Larry. He was a nice guy and all, but Lizzie hadn't talked to him in years, PERSONALLY. And THAT'S when my next theory came up. Lizzie must still have feelings for GORDO. I felt a mixture of anger and gratefulness towards her. She had lied, but for the sake of my feelings. I felt so stupid it was so OBVIOUS.
"Are you okay?," Gordo questioned as I pushed the tray away, holding my head in my hand.
"Uh, sudden headache," I murmured. I didn't take my eyes off Lizzie as she got up. "Uh, I'm going to the nurse's office."
"Do you need any help?," He asked worriedly.
"No, I'm fine," I waved vaguely, following Lizzie out of the lunchroom. I would merely stop her and tell her I knew and that she didn't need to bother lying. It's fine. I'm fine with it. It's not some competition. Is it?
My stomach jumped as I stopped suddenly, watching Lizzie carefully tape a rose to my locker.
And it was then I was truly mad at Lizzie McGuire. Not only did she lie to me, she was trying to make me think I had a secret admirer! She run in the other direction quickly, not noticing me storming over to my locker. I ripped off the rose so suddenly A thorn tore across my arm. I yelped in pain and looked at my wrist. The thorn scratched my scar into an unclosed triangle. The light scratch glistened. Without thinking, I put to semicircles on the top with the thorn, wincing. It was now a heart.
"Miranda, what the HELL are you doing?" Uh oh. Why can't Gordo ever stay in the cafeteria when I need him to?
A/N: Heh, Heh, Heh. I'm EVIL. Okay, I possibly might do editing to this chapter, because it might give off the opposite vibes as wanted. But for now, it stays. EVILLLL AMMMM IIIII. Anyway, I want fifty reviews. I really do. Actually, I want 100, but I'll start at 50. Actually, Right now I'm working for 30, but LET'S WORK TOGETHER PEOPLE! I have an issue with keeping this story un-updated. It BOTHERS me. I just updated it today, but the chapter was so SHORT. Oh, goodness. Just review. PLEASE???
Love-fool: Don't we all? Bunches o' thanks!
Keeponwritin: A funky pink high top I am. Short, sweet, and to the point. But this chapter; no. No. Thank you!!!
Caley: Ooh! A NEW REVIEWER!!! WELCOMING TIME!!! ::sings special song and does dance:: erm, anyway, yes. Thanks a bunch, and I completely agree.
Adam4me: Glad you love it! I am hoping to be a writer, because I don't devote my entire life to just fan fics. No..never. not me. Thank you!!
Baby-Angel aka Lala: Heh, Heh, Heh. Look at THIS!! You're my question lovie, aren't you now? That's cool. I like it when My readers show an interest in what's going on. It shows good observational skills. I LOVE YOU. YES. I DO. ::stops speaking baby talk like an idiot:: well, yes, anyway, thanks!