(Author's Note}:
Hello, my lovelies! Alright. New plan! I have officially decided that from now on, each chapter will be based on a song! (Only Skittles knows the list, and she will remain to be the one and only, so there's surprise. For you guys at least, I kinda screwed you over Ittz. Not totally though!) Anywho…This chapter is a song from The Secret Garden, called "The Girl I Mean To Be". For lyrics to the song, which will not be here, look in my bio –points to name link at top of page- so go check that out!
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From now on, all chapters will have accompanying lyrics in my bio…So don't fall behind! If you do, Email me and I'll send ya the lyrics aysap!
Luv and Mush pants,
Glimm
{The Girl I Mean To Be}:
Katie, sighing heavily, trudged her way up the fire escape. The bitter cold air stung her cheeks, her hands, her neck. Her hair blew around her as a gale of wind hit her full-force.
"This is the second New York City winter I've been through, and I don't think I'll ever get used to the cold," She murmured to herself, rubbing her nose with her free hand.
Settling down on the cold gravel of the roof, right under the awning created by the roof, Katie pulled, from the thick wool blanket around her person, a diary.
The smooth, almost silky burgundy cover shone in the late afternoon sun, the kind of winter sun that seems more golden than yellow, brighter than summer sun.
Pulling out the small pencil she had nicked off one of the smaller boys who went to school in the mornings and met the others on Newspaper Row for the afternoon edition, Katie began to write.
December 11, 1898Dear Diary,
What time of the day will it have to be before Spot, Cole, whatever you want to address him as, notices me? Me, little old, plain, ugly Katie, the little girl he's known almost all his life, but forgot in less than a week?
In the whole time we've been here, we've only really been truly together once. That bitter cold, grey morning after the war, more than a year ago. I remember him walking, I remember calling his name, his real name, and I remember how he sat down into the snow, pulling me with him.
After the funerals, he went back to Spot Conlon. Would you know, Diary, that I believe he threw Cole away? My beautiful, amazing, wondrous Cole?
When we arrived in New York, late August of last year, I never knew that in little more than three months, that young, small Cole would become leader. Even now, he's only fifteen, just turned two weeks ago.
It seems amazing to me that, with all the milksops he apparently beds, that he has never so much as looked at me. For after all, I was the first girl his own age that he knew. But, I suppose, that when girls like those come around, he'd rather go with them over me.
I'd like to say that I knew it was going to happen, that it was just like him to go for the beauties and bed them, that he had always been flirtatious with the young ladies in the village; but I can't.
Somehow I always believed, without any sign, without any invitation to do any such thing, that I would marry and spend my life with Cole. Until we came here, I didn't realize that it could be any other way. I didn't realize that such a thought as that was an unusual, even ludicrous thought.
Do you know what I want most in the world Diary? I do not want riches, or beautiful gowns, though I would not say no to either. I only want a man to love me as much as I can love him. Tomorrow I will be fifteen, and I've never kissed a boy.
Scots, who is only just seventeen, has kissed many boys, and her beau, a beautiful young man with a respectable, steady job as a legal assistant, wants to marry her as soon as he is through with law school.
Imagine, to be married to a lawyer, to never have to worry about working, to never have to worry about putting food in your mouth, about having warm clothing or a nice bed.
Imagine having a man to love. Imagine having children to love. Scots would like to have lots of little ones, I think, for any time she sees a young mother with her sweet, rosy-cheeked little baby, he eyes light up and her pretty face seems to glow.
And with the way he looks at her, I don't believe he would mind doing what is necessary to give her all the children she desires. And I love the way he looks into her eyes as he calls her "Lisa".
But the thing is, I know that as soon as she comes back, she lights a candle for Top, her first love who never knew her feelings.
But I also know that, though her love for Top will never die, her love for Patrick Moore is deeper, heavier, and altogether more beautiful.
I want that.
Why is that, when I do find myself near Spot, that my hear pounds so loudly in my ears and my vision blurs because my blood is flooding my body, and I can't speak.
This young man does odd things to my body. He makes me feel cold and warm at the same time, and he makes me feel full and empty at the same time. He fills me with happiness and a deep, bitter desire to weep at the same time.
This young man is a contradiction in human form. I do believe that when he nears me, he knows that he makes me feel as if my veins hold too much blood for my body to contain, that he knows that he makes my knees go so very weak.
Remembering the weakness he implanted in her body, Katie felt her heart surge with anger and longing at the same time, and she wondered whether he would ever just fill her with one, solid, unshakable emotion: Love.
Some days I feel as if all I want to do is run to him, grab hold of him and kiss him until the cows come home, which they never will, for in the City, there are no cows. And yet other days I feel like running to him, grabbing hold of him, and shaking him whilst I scream into him eardrums that he's a idiot, that he's an ass that needs to wise up and realize what he does to me.
One must sometimes wonder where a girl like me gets such phrases. Bourbon, Grin, Mugger, and many more give them to me at very loud volumes every single day.
And, to celebrate the diverse language they inject into my already large vocabulary, thanks to that tutor Cole and I had those many years ago on the farm, I will say another thing.
I want Spot, Cole, whomever he is, to jump in the hay with me. I want him to roll between the sheets with me. No, better than that, I want him to make love to me.
For Scots says that any man can give you a roll in the hay, but only the man you're destined to spend your life with can make love to you.
Remembering the way Scots always looked as though she were floating on a cloud up to the heavens when she got back from a night out with Pat, Katie smiled wistfully.
But she would know that, not because she passes herself around, but because so many gorgeous men want to have her, want to bed her. Why, look at her! With that deep brown mane of lovely hair, her tanned skin, her honey eyes, and her high, elegant cheekbones, every man looks at her as she passes.
I would love to be looked at that way by every man I pass.
But I wouldn't need any of them to show interest in me if I could only get one to look my way.
Pausing, Katie struggled to compose herself enough to make her hand hold steady as she wrote with the quickly diminishing writing utensil.
How come I can't ever be the girl I mean to be around him? How come I can't ever just…I don't know, be desirable to him?
Why is it that it never seems to work when I try to think of clever ways to entice him.
True, I've never plucked up the courage to actually carry out my plans, but oh, how I want to.
She paused, licking her lips. Katie's breath was sucked in suddenly as a particularly frigid blast of air reached under the roof and crept up her blanket, touching her cheeks and body, sending shivers up her spine. An idea forming in her witty mind, Katie smiled a slow, pensive smile.
What I need is a plan, a foolproof plan…
Yours in trust,
Katie
{Shout-outs}
Skittles: you know you're my girl, and I just want to thank you for all the help you gave me on the SOS chapters, and for all the encouragement I've gotten from you the whole time I've been slowly writing this fic. And yep, Crotona Park rocks man. And all my info was geographically correct! Yay me!
Plaid Pajamas: Sorry I DID keep you waiting so long, but at least you didn't have to wait in between for all the other chapters, you lucky dog! And awww! Your reviews are immensely sweet! Thanks so much! I hope you enjoyed this one!
Jo: Please don't faint! I like having my reviewers conscious so they can r/r as soon as I call them to do so! Thanks for the review chica!
Drama Queen: Thanks, I try. I like bein' smooth. It fun for me! I hope this chapter didn't un-hook you. –cringe-
Jade Shintz: Wow. –blushes- Thanks. High praise sweetie. I mean, epic? That means like, classic, larger than life, impressive, grand…-goes on congratulating and complimenting self- Thanks! –head swells with pride-
Southern Spell: Thanks, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter!
Anna W: Thank you so much for your lovely reviews that make me feel good! –throws you roses- you're a peach.
K.M Sykes: Thanks for giving me the abbreviation, it takes a lot less time than typing it all out! –grin- Thanks! I like how I brought them in too, and I appreciate your praise! –claps for you- And hey, go read "I Cannot Be God" by Mush's Skittles if you wanna see where I sort of got those last lines—Not really, but they fit with her amazing story!
Rumor: Yes, Blink is an idiot at times, yet we all luffle him immensely, I'm sure! –wink- You know you love Blink! And thank you so much for the other compliments, I won't list them here, for my head will swell larger than it already has as I reread my reviews for these shout-outs…But Grazi!
{End Notes}:
Lyrics to the song "The Girl I Mean To Be" should be, or will be as soon as FFN decided to listen to me, in my bio. So go check those out, to really give yourself a feel for the chapter!!!