*When you work at Blockbuster, you become acquainted with some pretty weird
shit. Like this movie. Its based on the book by the same title, and is
amazing. It's the (and this is by no means an original description) coming
of age story about 4 eighth-grade boys and a girl at a Catholic School.
I've seen the movie once, and never read the book, but this one little
detail that the movie didn't wrap up or explain irked me, so I'm gonna
clarify it.
Also, this is a random break from my usual Harry Potter fiction, just because I wanted to write more than smut. "Corrupt" has a lot of plot, and I wanna do more of that. Fear not. "DeTension" and "I Don't Want To Be Lonely Tonight" or whatever the hell I called it will be up dated soon.
Thanks, and don't forget to read and review after you've watched the movie to see if I've done justice to it.*
The Dangerous Lives of Alter Boys
The Haunting
Frances blinked open his eyes. There she lay, the tormented soul of his affection, to whom he'd just give his innocence....Margie. She was beautiful just lying there, her top still on, but her pants broken into and covered in a blanket as they both lay strewn across the floor. Hm. A smile crossed his face. A brief one, sad but happy. Margie wasn't typical. Far from it. She was experienced, but not the way she should have been. Sleeping with your brother isn't exactly what you'd call normal. She was tormented, and he wanted to protect her. To be like Brakken.
*Damnit Frances, get a hold of yourself. Like super heroes really exist*. But the drawing helped to release his anger, his tension, wants, needs, and all that other Hallmark shit they tell you to release in therapy. School. That's a joke. A smoking priest and a peg-leg nun wouldn't give him the strength to help her, but did she really need the help? Sure, Marg was a little unhinged- the whole ghost story didn't help- but she had a soul, which was more than he could say for Tim.
Heh, Tim. There was a possessed nut case. Broken home, keeps in everything he's feeling, and now he's ready to steal a cougar and unleash it on the Sister. *Godspeed Tim. And I'm enough of an ass to help him.*
*She's so beautiful*. He stroked her cheek. A drying trail from a tear lightly shown from the black-light she'd lit so you could see the constellations she'd decorated her ceiling with. He looked past her, onto the bed from the floor, and jumped.
A girl, not unlike Margie, all black, dreadful, pale, was sitting on the edge of the bed. Suddenly Frances was freezing, and scared. He didn't want to wake her up, but Margie said she'd seen the girl before. That this was the ghost of the girl that had died in her house. That when ever she'd do the unthinkable things she'd done, she would cry up here, and that no one had ever seen her before, but that she lived with her. Margie wasn't crazy.
In a staring show-down, Frances glared into the cold eyes of the ghost, who just stared back.
In a chilling, biting whisper, he heard her moan....
*So you know her secrets, too? I had to watch them. My soul is damned from the heaven you fear because of the sins of my murderer, a mortal sin that I had beckoned. She beckons damnation too...*
Infuriated, he coldly communicated his venom.
*Its an innocent soul you're trying to torture. What right do you have to determine her damnation? Your sins aren't hers- and you aren't God- you can't judge her or punish her. That's for Him to decide.*
*Haven't we become the alter boy all of the sudden? Where was this when you formed the Atomic Trinity? When you candidly spoke of the unchasisty of women? When you drank? When you smoked?* she pried.
*God was letting me fall so that I could see who he was. He will forgive me for my mistakes- mistakes I knew no better than to make. And he'll forgive her, too. She didn't know what love was until she found me....*
*But she knew of pleasure....*
*She knew of pain! She knew of the indignities and injustices of life before you ever did!*
*Before me?! She knew what she did- I knew nothing. I knew of love and of friendship and of making connections- a fouled connection that led my lover to murder, and I didn't deserve it for making innocent mistakes. And the past is no excuse for the present- and you can tell your friend he should watch his doings on Earth or face God's wrath in Heaven!*
Sharply inhaling, as though having been stabbed, Frances watched in awe and disgust as she blinked herself out of existance and the cold room warmed again. The loathing in her telepathic comments made him jump. She knew about Tim.
In that instant, Frances understood the true purpose of God. That He wasn't a lesson to be taught, but a truth to be experienced. That He opens doors to His love, but will open a window if you don't step through. The ghost that haunted Margie's bedroom and heart was a warning that she didn't understand, and wasn't meant to understand, because people like Margie and Tim were too hardened to the world to be soft to the spirit. Frances was still ripe- there was still hope for him.
*She's so beautiful.* He could save her. But could he save Tim?
****************** No more chapters, this was just something I wrote to explain the confusion in my head. Watch the movie to see if he does save Tim, and to understand everything I alluded to.
Also, this is a random break from my usual Harry Potter fiction, just because I wanted to write more than smut. "Corrupt" has a lot of plot, and I wanna do more of that. Fear not. "DeTension" and "I Don't Want To Be Lonely Tonight" or whatever the hell I called it will be up dated soon.
Thanks, and don't forget to read and review after you've watched the movie to see if I've done justice to it.*
The Dangerous Lives of Alter Boys
The Haunting
Frances blinked open his eyes. There she lay, the tormented soul of his affection, to whom he'd just give his innocence....Margie. She was beautiful just lying there, her top still on, but her pants broken into and covered in a blanket as they both lay strewn across the floor. Hm. A smile crossed his face. A brief one, sad but happy. Margie wasn't typical. Far from it. She was experienced, but not the way she should have been. Sleeping with your brother isn't exactly what you'd call normal. She was tormented, and he wanted to protect her. To be like Brakken.
*Damnit Frances, get a hold of yourself. Like super heroes really exist*. But the drawing helped to release his anger, his tension, wants, needs, and all that other Hallmark shit they tell you to release in therapy. School. That's a joke. A smoking priest and a peg-leg nun wouldn't give him the strength to help her, but did she really need the help? Sure, Marg was a little unhinged- the whole ghost story didn't help- but she had a soul, which was more than he could say for Tim.
Heh, Tim. There was a possessed nut case. Broken home, keeps in everything he's feeling, and now he's ready to steal a cougar and unleash it on the Sister. *Godspeed Tim. And I'm enough of an ass to help him.*
*She's so beautiful*. He stroked her cheek. A drying trail from a tear lightly shown from the black-light she'd lit so you could see the constellations she'd decorated her ceiling with. He looked past her, onto the bed from the floor, and jumped.
A girl, not unlike Margie, all black, dreadful, pale, was sitting on the edge of the bed. Suddenly Frances was freezing, and scared. He didn't want to wake her up, but Margie said she'd seen the girl before. That this was the ghost of the girl that had died in her house. That when ever she'd do the unthinkable things she'd done, she would cry up here, and that no one had ever seen her before, but that she lived with her. Margie wasn't crazy.
In a staring show-down, Frances glared into the cold eyes of the ghost, who just stared back.
In a chilling, biting whisper, he heard her moan....
*So you know her secrets, too? I had to watch them. My soul is damned from the heaven you fear because of the sins of my murderer, a mortal sin that I had beckoned. She beckons damnation too...*
Infuriated, he coldly communicated his venom.
*Its an innocent soul you're trying to torture. What right do you have to determine her damnation? Your sins aren't hers- and you aren't God- you can't judge her or punish her. That's for Him to decide.*
*Haven't we become the alter boy all of the sudden? Where was this when you formed the Atomic Trinity? When you candidly spoke of the unchasisty of women? When you drank? When you smoked?* she pried.
*God was letting me fall so that I could see who he was. He will forgive me for my mistakes- mistakes I knew no better than to make. And he'll forgive her, too. She didn't know what love was until she found me....*
*But she knew of pleasure....*
*She knew of pain! She knew of the indignities and injustices of life before you ever did!*
*Before me?! She knew what she did- I knew nothing. I knew of love and of friendship and of making connections- a fouled connection that led my lover to murder, and I didn't deserve it for making innocent mistakes. And the past is no excuse for the present- and you can tell your friend he should watch his doings on Earth or face God's wrath in Heaven!*
Sharply inhaling, as though having been stabbed, Frances watched in awe and disgust as she blinked herself out of existance and the cold room warmed again. The loathing in her telepathic comments made him jump. She knew about Tim.
In that instant, Frances understood the true purpose of God. That He wasn't a lesson to be taught, but a truth to be experienced. That He opens doors to His love, but will open a window if you don't step through. The ghost that haunted Margie's bedroom and heart was a warning that she didn't understand, and wasn't meant to understand, because people like Margie and Tim were too hardened to the world to be soft to the spirit. Frances was still ripe- there was still hope for him.
*She's so beautiful.* He could save her. But could he save Tim?
****************** No more chapters, this was just something I wrote to explain the confusion in my head. Watch the movie to see if he does save Tim, and to understand everything I alluded to.