Marilyn rolled her eyes as she ate oatmeal. Her parents were having a fight
about something stupid, she wasn't sure what about, she thought it probably
had something to do with the laundry softener. Finishing off her bowl,
Marilyn brought it over to the sink and rinsed it off before setting it and
the utensils in the dishwasher. Her mother stormed into the kitchen, heels
clicking against the tile flooring, "Come on. I'll drive you to school."
"Sure, but there's one problem. School doesn't start for another hour." Marilyn retorts.
"Don't pull this crap on me, young lady, I'm not in the mood. Now come on."
Marilyn sighed and followed her mother to the car, knowing full well that putting up a fight won't help anything. She sat there as her mother drove, talking on a cell phone and holding onto the wheel with one finger. When dropped off, Marilyn says "good-bye, I love you" to her mom and walks inside the school.
She decides to hang out in the Media Immersion room, seeing as how that's her homeroom anyway. Marilyn enters the lab, sitting down at her computer and clicking onto the internet. She hears someone enter the room and looks up, seeing Mr.Simpson walk into the lab. "Hey there, Marilyn. You're here early." Mr.Simpson greeted her with a smile.
Marilyn raises and lowers one shoulder, "My mom dropped me off." She went back to her web site, catching up on tour dates for one of her favorite bands.
Mr.Simpson set some paperwork on his desk, "May I ask you something?"
"Sure, I guess."
"Could you drop these off at the office for me? I've got to get started on a homework assignment." Mr.Simpson asked, tapping a small pile of yellow papers.
Taking the papers, Marilyn nods and walks out of classroom and down the halls. When she gets to the office and sets the stack of papers into a wire basket, she overhears the secretary laughing with someone on the phone. Not bothering to waste anymore time in the office, half thinking of a place to go to skip this school day, Marilyn walks out into the hall and heads down the hallway. She stares at her boots, suppressing the urge to hit something, and soon collides with someone.
She looks up, only to see Craig staring back at her. "Marilyn-"
"Save it, okay? Let's just go our separate ways and be done with it." She snaps.
Craig's face goes from nervous to hurt. "Can't I just-"
"Didn't I tell you to save it?" Marilyn asks, walking forward and hitting Craig in the shoulder with hers. She heads back into the MI lab, leaving Craig standing distraught in the middle of the hallway.
Marilyn soon pulls away from everything at school, only really trying in Art and Music class. She only talks to people when she's running around and talking pictures for the school newspaper, but even then she rarely speaks a sentence. Instead of snapping at anyone taking a shot at her, Marilyn soaks it all in and becomes void of any expressions. Despite Craig's ongoing attempts of trying to talk to her, he can't seem to ever get more than three words in with Marilyn, who either walks off or tells him that she doesn't have anything to say. Craig forces himself, one Saturday, to go over to Marilyn's house and demand to talk to her and not leave until he does.
He walks up steps and slowly across the Sterlings' front porch, silently praying for a chance at explaining himself. Craig rings the doorbell when he arrives at the front door and waits for someone to let him in, but settles for a short figure walk toward him, morphed by the glass inlays on the door. Marilyn's mother opens the door, looking up at Craig and drying her hands with a blue checked hand towel. "Yes?"
Craig smiles sweetly, "Hi. I was wondering whether or not Marilyn's home?" Maybe she'll be a little more informed about her own daughter's whereabouts, Craig thought to himself.
"She is." Mrs. Sterling answers, "Can I ask who you are?"
"I'm Craig Manning. I'm a -er- friend of Marilyn's." He lies, wondering why Mrs. Sterling doesn't recognize him.
The woman squints at Craig for a moment before motioning him inside, "I'll go and get her. You can follow me into the kitchen and wait there while I get The Reaper, have a cookie if you want..." She tells him, shutting the door and starting to walk toward the kitchen, "Why on earth that child has friends is beyond me." Mrs. Sterling mumbles, shaking her head and pointing to a chair when they enter the sunny kitchen.
Craig sits down, resting his left elbow on the round table and watching Marilyn's mother head up the staircase and out of sight. Music is floating down from the second floor, another heavy metal band that sounds unfamiliar to Craig.
"Turn down that racket and get downstairs! You have a visitor over, if you can possibly believe that!" Mrs. Sterling yells, trying to be heard over the faint thumping of the band. He can't hear Marilyn's reply, but her mother soon says, "Craig, Craig something-or-other!" and then, "Fine, but you better be down for dinner or we're eating without you again!"
Biting his lip, Craig stays silent until Mrs. Sterling reenters the kitchen. "Honestly, that child cannot have any of my blood." She looks at Craig, "You say you're a friend of hers?"
Craig nods.
"Well," Mrs. Sterling says, faking empathy, "Marilyn doesn't want to see you right now. You can try to talk to her if you want, Lord knows she doesn't give a damn about her father or I."
"Thanks, but I can wait here... I mean, I have something important I need to talk to her about." Craig says, choosing his words carefully.
Mrs. Sterling shrugs, "There's no point, really. That girl would stay locked up in her dungeon even if Van what's-his-name was in the entry hall."
A door slams and two minutes later Mr. Sterling walks into the kitchen, grumbling about something and walking over to the table. He looks puzzled when he sees Craig sitting in his, Mr. Sterling's, chair. "You again?"
"Yes, sir. I have something I need to talk to Marilyn about but, she won't come down, so I'm waiting." Craig explains, "She seems upset about something." He says, a confused tone in his voice though he knows that it's him that's got Marilyn so upset.
Mr. Sterling sits down opposite Craig and rolls his eyes, "She's always upset about something. Maybe the Devil didn't accept her sacrifice, maybe one of her girlfriends dumped her," He says disgusted, "Hell only knows what's bugging that kid."
"Sure, but there's one problem. School doesn't start for another hour." Marilyn retorts.
"Don't pull this crap on me, young lady, I'm not in the mood. Now come on."
Marilyn sighed and followed her mother to the car, knowing full well that putting up a fight won't help anything. She sat there as her mother drove, talking on a cell phone and holding onto the wheel with one finger. When dropped off, Marilyn says "good-bye, I love you" to her mom and walks inside the school.
She decides to hang out in the Media Immersion room, seeing as how that's her homeroom anyway. Marilyn enters the lab, sitting down at her computer and clicking onto the internet. She hears someone enter the room and looks up, seeing Mr.Simpson walk into the lab. "Hey there, Marilyn. You're here early." Mr.Simpson greeted her with a smile.
Marilyn raises and lowers one shoulder, "My mom dropped me off." She went back to her web site, catching up on tour dates for one of her favorite bands.
Mr.Simpson set some paperwork on his desk, "May I ask you something?"
"Sure, I guess."
"Could you drop these off at the office for me? I've got to get started on a homework assignment." Mr.Simpson asked, tapping a small pile of yellow papers.
Taking the papers, Marilyn nods and walks out of classroom and down the halls. When she gets to the office and sets the stack of papers into a wire basket, she overhears the secretary laughing with someone on the phone. Not bothering to waste anymore time in the office, half thinking of a place to go to skip this school day, Marilyn walks out into the hall and heads down the hallway. She stares at her boots, suppressing the urge to hit something, and soon collides with someone.
She looks up, only to see Craig staring back at her. "Marilyn-"
"Save it, okay? Let's just go our separate ways and be done with it." She snaps.
Craig's face goes from nervous to hurt. "Can't I just-"
"Didn't I tell you to save it?" Marilyn asks, walking forward and hitting Craig in the shoulder with hers. She heads back into the MI lab, leaving Craig standing distraught in the middle of the hallway.
Marilyn soon pulls away from everything at school, only really trying in Art and Music class. She only talks to people when she's running around and talking pictures for the school newspaper, but even then she rarely speaks a sentence. Instead of snapping at anyone taking a shot at her, Marilyn soaks it all in and becomes void of any expressions. Despite Craig's ongoing attempts of trying to talk to her, he can't seem to ever get more than three words in with Marilyn, who either walks off or tells him that she doesn't have anything to say. Craig forces himself, one Saturday, to go over to Marilyn's house and demand to talk to her and not leave until he does.
He walks up steps and slowly across the Sterlings' front porch, silently praying for a chance at explaining himself. Craig rings the doorbell when he arrives at the front door and waits for someone to let him in, but settles for a short figure walk toward him, morphed by the glass inlays on the door. Marilyn's mother opens the door, looking up at Craig and drying her hands with a blue checked hand towel. "Yes?"
Craig smiles sweetly, "Hi. I was wondering whether or not Marilyn's home?" Maybe she'll be a little more informed about her own daughter's whereabouts, Craig thought to himself.
"She is." Mrs. Sterling answers, "Can I ask who you are?"
"I'm Craig Manning. I'm a -er- friend of Marilyn's." He lies, wondering why Mrs. Sterling doesn't recognize him.
The woman squints at Craig for a moment before motioning him inside, "I'll go and get her. You can follow me into the kitchen and wait there while I get The Reaper, have a cookie if you want..." She tells him, shutting the door and starting to walk toward the kitchen, "Why on earth that child has friends is beyond me." Mrs. Sterling mumbles, shaking her head and pointing to a chair when they enter the sunny kitchen.
Craig sits down, resting his left elbow on the round table and watching Marilyn's mother head up the staircase and out of sight. Music is floating down from the second floor, another heavy metal band that sounds unfamiliar to Craig.
"Turn down that racket and get downstairs! You have a visitor over, if you can possibly believe that!" Mrs. Sterling yells, trying to be heard over the faint thumping of the band. He can't hear Marilyn's reply, but her mother soon says, "Craig, Craig something-or-other!" and then, "Fine, but you better be down for dinner or we're eating without you again!"
Biting his lip, Craig stays silent until Mrs. Sterling reenters the kitchen. "Honestly, that child cannot have any of my blood." She looks at Craig, "You say you're a friend of hers?"
Craig nods.
"Well," Mrs. Sterling says, faking empathy, "Marilyn doesn't want to see you right now. You can try to talk to her if you want, Lord knows she doesn't give a damn about her father or I."
"Thanks, but I can wait here... I mean, I have something important I need to talk to her about." Craig says, choosing his words carefully.
Mrs. Sterling shrugs, "There's no point, really. That girl would stay locked up in her dungeon even if Van what's-his-name was in the entry hall."
A door slams and two minutes later Mr. Sterling walks into the kitchen, grumbling about something and walking over to the table. He looks puzzled when he sees Craig sitting in his, Mr. Sterling's, chair. "You again?"
"Yes, sir. I have something I need to talk to Marilyn about but, she won't come down, so I'm waiting." Craig explains, "She seems upset about something." He says, a confused tone in his voice though he knows that it's him that's got Marilyn so upset.
Mr. Sterling sits down opposite Craig and rolls his eyes, "She's always upset about something. Maybe the Devil didn't accept her sacrifice, maybe one of her girlfriends dumped her," He says disgusted, "Hell only knows what's bugging that kid."