Thank you to my reviewers! Summer is coming to an end (tear) but who
really wants to spend the rest of their days watching daytime television
and getting bitten by mosquitoes on a camping trip? Anyway, hope you all
had a great summer. I'm going to continue doing this until everyone hates
it and no one reads it. Please review!
Close on Omniscience ** Chapter 9
Dearest Grandmother,
I'm sorry if I haven't written in awhile, and it would be a lie to say I've been busy. In fact, laziness is the subject to which I am addressing. I realize now I am not living the life I want to. I have fewer friends than fingers on my hand. When were you and my grandfather married (rest his old soul)? I have no suitors or men on my tail, as I would have you think. I want to get out and know people. I am already seventeen. I am wasting away my prime, as you would say. Oh, your memory is fond to think of. I am missing you sorely. Learning lots, studying hard.
Lovingly yours,
Sara
Sara reread the short script. She groaned at her own pathetic writing ability and her even more pathetic situation that had hit her hard in the stomach the next morning. Her grandmother had always said 'to sleep on it' if she had a problem. This was worse than last night.
She won't live forever, Sara thought, the thought as bitter as onions and just as tearful. It was true. She purposefully blocked out the prophecy of her grandmother's death, but she was sure it was soon. A tear fell gently onto the parchment. She picked up the quill and dipped it in the ink.
-
P.S. Sorry for the smudge. I spilled a drop from my water glass.
-
Sara quickly folded the letter and tied it with a string before she could cry any harder. She set it on the table and watched it, as if it would disintegrate before her eyes. Then she grabbed for another piece of parchment and reloaded her quill with ink, gently tapping the feather against her lips.
She didn't want to be alone at school anymore. She wanted boys to see her as they saw Brigetta. Well, sort of. Not exactly the same. Suddenly, she wanted to be a stunning Cinderella. A boy-vacuuming vixen. An underlying beauty.
The thoughts filled her head, and she couldn't believe she hadn't thought of it before. It was almost like it had been blocked, like a floodgate. She whirled around like a ballerina, nearly knocking over the vanity. Thank goodness the other girls had gone already.
In the next three days, she checked out all of the romance novels in the school library (there were exactly three) to find out what it was all about. The first, "Killing Me Softly With His Spell", was a dull pro- pureblood book about a pureblood girl from the country going to the city and falling for a Muggle-born wizard. The Muggle-born was a player and used her. Hurt, she went back to the country and fell in love with a ready- made husband from another pureblood family. The other two were equally bland and told her nothing.
She nearly gave Brigetta a heart attack as well.
"What is romance?" Sara asked her plainly while she was using some sort of magic dream on her face. The cucumber slices in her eyes popped out.
"What?" Brigetta asked back, searching Sara's face for a joke or trick.
"I mean, since you had a boyfriend and all, what is romance?"
"I'm not sure I want to tell you," Brigetta said slowly, backing off.
"Please?" Sara said asked as sincerely as she could.
"Er, all right," Brigetta replied with caution. "Romance is, I suppose, the feelings between man and woman. Not like friendly feelings. Like, hot and heavy loving."
"Uh huh," Sara nodded.
"Like, real attraction," Brigetta poured out. She stood up and placed her hands on her heart for emphasis. "True love forever and ever. Romance is him holding your hand, singing you love songs, buying you nice things. Doing anything you say, dancing with you, telling you he loves you."
"What about kissing and stuff?" Sara asked. Half of "Killing Me Softly" was the girl and wizard kissing passionately and the author describing every detail.
"Oh, he has to hold you just right," Brigetta sighed, using her own hand to cradle her gooey cream-masked face. "And you have to connect, you see."
"Yes, thank you," Sara said, getting up to think about this.
"Wait," Brigetta said, grabbing her arm. "I haven't told you about gazing under the stars, long walks by the lake-"
"That's all right," Sara said, carefully removing Brigetta's clamping hand from her arm. Brigetta sulked but got the hint and replaced the cucumber slices that had fallen.
Sara sat down at the desk and took out a piece of parchment, wet the quill and set to work on a new document.
I, Sara Grace Cairns, do take the following oath upon the grave of my grandfather:
I will have at least one (1) boyfriend by the time I leave Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I will be considerate to the girls in my dorm. I will be more outgoing and make new friends. I will discontinue my practice of being a hermit. I will live, to the best of my ability, according to the morals my grandmother taught me.
(signed) Sara Grace Cairns
She folded the parchment and walked over to her bed. She lied upon it, stuffing the parchment in her pillowcase. She could feel the parchment of similar oaths she had taken in years passed ("I will attend at least one (1) Quidditch match" and the like) stuffed in the pillowcase as well. Most of them had been kept, a fine feather in her cap, at least in Sara's opinion.
It was not quite time for bed yet. She stalked in the bathroom to take a bath. Now that she had taken the oath, it was time to play the field. And there was only one person on it that she could think of. The next day, it was time to start romancing her old crush Sirius Black.
Close on Omniscience ** Chapter 9
Dearest Grandmother,
I'm sorry if I haven't written in awhile, and it would be a lie to say I've been busy. In fact, laziness is the subject to which I am addressing. I realize now I am not living the life I want to. I have fewer friends than fingers on my hand. When were you and my grandfather married (rest his old soul)? I have no suitors or men on my tail, as I would have you think. I want to get out and know people. I am already seventeen. I am wasting away my prime, as you would say. Oh, your memory is fond to think of. I am missing you sorely. Learning lots, studying hard.
Lovingly yours,
Sara
Sara reread the short script. She groaned at her own pathetic writing ability and her even more pathetic situation that had hit her hard in the stomach the next morning. Her grandmother had always said 'to sleep on it' if she had a problem. This was worse than last night.
She won't live forever, Sara thought, the thought as bitter as onions and just as tearful. It was true. She purposefully blocked out the prophecy of her grandmother's death, but she was sure it was soon. A tear fell gently onto the parchment. She picked up the quill and dipped it in the ink.
-
P.S. Sorry for the smudge. I spilled a drop from my water glass.
-
Sara quickly folded the letter and tied it with a string before she could cry any harder. She set it on the table and watched it, as if it would disintegrate before her eyes. Then she grabbed for another piece of parchment and reloaded her quill with ink, gently tapping the feather against her lips.
She didn't want to be alone at school anymore. She wanted boys to see her as they saw Brigetta. Well, sort of. Not exactly the same. Suddenly, she wanted to be a stunning Cinderella. A boy-vacuuming vixen. An underlying beauty.
The thoughts filled her head, and she couldn't believe she hadn't thought of it before. It was almost like it had been blocked, like a floodgate. She whirled around like a ballerina, nearly knocking over the vanity. Thank goodness the other girls had gone already.
In the next three days, she checked out all of the romance novels in the school library (there were exactly three) to find out what it was all about. The first, "Killing Me Softly With His Spell", was a dull pro- pureblood book about a pureblood girl from the country going to the city and falling for a Muggle-born wizard. The Muggle-born was a player and used her. Hurt, she went back to the country and fell in love with a ready- made husband from another pureblood family. The other two were equally bland and told her nothing.
She nearly gave Brigetta a heart attack as well.
"What is romance?" Sara asked her plainly while she was using some sort of magic dream on her face. The cucumber slices in her eyes popped out.
"What?" Brigetta asked back, searching Sara's face for a joke or trick.
"I mean, since you had a boyfriend and all, what is romance?"
"I'm not sure I want to tell you," Brigetta said slowly, backing off.
"Please?" Sara said asked as sincerely as she could.
"Er, all right," Brigetta replied with caution. "Romance is, I suppose, the feelings between man and woman. Not like friendly feelings. Like, hot and heavy loving."
"Uh huh," Sara nodded.
"Like, real attraction," Brigetta poured out. She stood up and placed her hands on her heart for emphasis. "True love forever and ever. Romance is him holding your hand, singing you love songs, buying you nice things. Doing anything you say, dancing with you, telling you he loves you."
"What about kissing and stuff?" Sara asked. Half of "Killing Me Softly" was the girl and wizard kissing passionately and the author describing every detail.
"Oh, he has to hold you just right," Brigetta sighed, using her own hand to cradle her gooey cream-masked face. "And you have to connect, you see."
"Yes, thank you," Sara said, getting up to think about this.
"Wait," Brigetta said, grabbing her arm. "I haven't told you about gazing under the stars, long walks by the lake-"
"That's all right," Sara said, carefully removing Brigetta's clamping hand from her arm. Brigetta sulked but got the hint and replaced the cucumber slices that had fallen.
Sara sat down at the desk and took out a piece of parchment, wet the quill and set to work on a new document.
I, Sara Grace Cairns, do take the following oath upon the grave of my grandfather:
I will have at least one (1) boyfriend by the time I leave Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I will be considerate to the girls in my dorm. I will be more outgoing and make new friends. I will discontinue my practice of being a hermit. I will live, to the best of my ability, according to the morals my grandmother taught me.
(signed) Sara Grace Cairns
She folded the parchment and walked over to her bed. She lied upon it, stuffing the parchment in her pillowcase. She could feel the parchment of similar oaths she had taken in years passed ("I will attend at least one (1) Quidditch match" and the like) stuffed in the pillowcase as well. Most of them had been kept, a fine feather in her cap, at least in Sara's opinion.
It was not quite time for bed yet. She stalked in the bathroom to take a bath. Now that she had taken the oath, it was time to play the field. And there was only one person on it that she could think of. The next day, it was time to start romancing her old crush Sirius Black.