I'm sitting here, covered in cupcake icing (it makes my hair look like
dreads) and pink bunny ears stuck on my head, yet, i'm so happy!!! Thank
you so much for the reviews on A Life Full of Saturdays. *Tear* They were
really.....sweet. I made one person cry and granted a miracle all in one
day!!! And trust me, you have no idea how these kinds of reviews just make
my day. I'll try to deliver as many chapters as possible and keep them up
to Linny standards..........Happy Easter!!! Peace, Love, And George
Clooney!!!
Disclaimer: I do not own Cowboy Bebop or Dexter Freebish's 'A Life Full of Saturdays' or practically anything else except my own ideas........
A Life Full Of Saturdays: My Number
Paula Valentine packed the remaining items of her only daughter's bedroom before loading the small Welsh Corgi into his pet taxi,pausing at the door when her husband asked her to stop. It had been one week since the accident, and the doctors had confirmed that at that moment in time, modern medical technology could not save their daughter. However, a technique of freezing the body until new advances in medicine could be found was a given option. It was either freeze Faye's body or watch her die. Harold Valentine opted for the freezing, knowing he was giving his daughter a second chance at life. There was the chance that the advance in medicine they needed could be years from then, and she would live a life without him. But he was willing to take that chance. Just to know that his daughter would live again. No doctor would tell him that there was no hope....no other road she could take. He kissed his daughter's forehead one last time before she was sent to the chamber. The doctor entered a few minutes later.
"Now, there are some drawbacks. This is an experimental technique. Faye could lose a few of her memories when she wakes up." Harold didn't say anything. He just turned and left the hospital, hoping that the only other call he would recieve from them would be the answer to a punctured lung.
Now, Harold sat in front of Faye's televsion, noticing the tape she had made when she was thirteen. He held the tape in his large hands, not wanting to smear the touch Faye had left on it before the wreck.
"Harry...if ou want to keep the tape then bring it with you. I can't stay here much longer." Paula wiped at her red eyes. Spencer was leaning on a wall across the room, staring at the same videotape. Silence fell on the room like a heavy weight. Nobody wanted to do anything with the tape, in fear that if Faye woke up, she couldn't return to that period of innocence. Finally, Paula spoke up. She knew what had to be said.
"I don't know if she meant it or not.....I mean, we were fighting when she told me this. But she wanted the tape sent around. Like a time capsule. To remind people what it's like to be happy, I guess." She had failed to mention that the real reason Faye wanted the tape sent around was to show people that she was happy without her mother. But at a time like that, Paula refused to admit to herself that her daughter despised her. Harold held the tape up to the light. It seemed like a good idea. Even if it did come from his wife's mouth.
"I'll do it." Spencer managed to speak up. He had remained quiet since the wreck. Inside though, he was screaming for forgiveness. Why did he end that night on such bad terms?
"You do that. Thank you." Harold handed the lanky man the tape following the VCR. "Just in case they don't make these suckers when she wakes up." He meant it as a joke, but he had no idea how much truth lay in his words.
In Faye's mind, a child clawed at her warped brain, desperate to get through to the violet haired woman. "I'm always here for you." How Faye craved to hear those words. She needed someone to hold her, and tell her everything would be all right. Sure, she had a tough exterior as a tomyboy to the outside world. But inside, she yearned for that someone to whisper in her ear and speak sweet nothings ;as if the world was meant for only them. "Please don't forget me..." The voice was so small, so childish. "I won't. At least, i'll try not to." "That's all I ask. That's all I can ask." The voice deminished, and Faye was left alone, in a harsh cold that couldn't escape. And in way, she didn't want to escape. She was too scared to meet back with the world and face those she had ruined.
Spencer wrapped the videotape up tightly in borwn packaging. He smiled as he checked the 'Cash On Delivery' box. He could still have some fun, even if he wasn't around to see the look on her face when she received the package and had to pay. It was something Faye hated to do. Sure, she gave to charities in town. But usually, it was only a dollar. And she would still cringe when she threw it, yes threw it, in the plastic tub. So, he could just imagine the grinch-like expressions she would make when she would have to dig in her pocket for the desired amount of money and regrettably give it to the man. Spencer sighed. It had been forty-eight hours and yet he already missed her. He shoved the smaller of the two packages to the right and started on the VCR.
For fifty four years, the world still went round. People still went about their daily routines, unaware of the fact that Faye was about to wake up. Of course, nobody would tell her that her father had died of a heart attack four years after the accident. Or that Paula Valentine had kept the cracked cell phone, in hopes that one day it would ring, and she would hear Faye's smooth voice. Then Paula could apologize for everything she had done. Nobody would tell her that Spencer Spiegel had married and had a son, who also ended up having a son to carry on the Spiegel name. Of course, nobody told SPENCER that his grandson, Spike, wouldn't really bring pride to the Spiegel name. Nobody would tell Faye that her mother died of old age as a lonely woman carrying a dead cell phone in her wrinkly fingers. Nobody would tell Faye that it was her name spoken as Spencer's last words. Nobody would tell her that sometimes second chances are hard to come by. And that Lady Luck was on her side to have Faye cross paths with Spike. Course, once again, nobody would tell her that it would easy either. But on that faithful day, doctors thought that waking the orchid haired woman was a good idea, considering that a cure for her punctured lung had been concocted and perfected a few years earlier.
Faye could see the light and remembered that she was told from someone before that if you see the bright light, to walk away. It was funny, but during her sleep, she could a man's voice yell out numbers. Was it God? Did God have a waiting list for people? And Faye just picked a really long number? "Don't forget me..." It was the voice again. "I don't want to but...." She tried. She tried her damnest when the light hit her, to cling onto the pre-teen in her mind. She didn't want to lose it. It was the one thing she had left to hang on to. For a long time, Faye held on to thoughts, but with time, the thoughts disappeared. But that small voice would pop up again and tell Faye that she was there for her. And darkness would surround Faye again. The little girl would tell Faye jokes and stories of slumber parties and first kisses. But Faye couldn't imagine such things. She just couldn't SEE them. So the girl would end up telling her fairy tales to liven up the darkness. Faye's favorite was the one of the sleeping beauty. Faye wished her handsome prince would wake her up right about then. And he did, only, he wasn't handsome. He was an older man. And he wasn't a prince. But considering his profession, he might be as rich as one.
It was then that Faye decided God definetly had a waiting list for people like her. Not quite dead but not feeling alive. The numbers, she would find out, were numerical identifications. But in Faye's simple mind, Brother John or Billy Bob or whomever would spend endless hours callling out numbers. 'No. Not your turn yet, Faye. I'm afraid your number hadn't been called.' She felt like she would spend an eternity just waiting for that number...her number to be called forth into the pearly gates. She would also find out that the gates weren't pearly at all, but more of a cheap off white. Heaven must have a budget plan. Smart people, she thought. But the light was on her now. And she went to it, leaving behind the number, the economy-sized portal, the stories, and the little girl. And from then on, she would never be able to find the girl, unable to get the reassurance she needed to move on. Anyone can tell you that you're beautiful and one of a kind. But will you still believe you're ugly? Anyone can tell you that you're smart and worth something. But will you still feel worthless? Sometimes. So you go and cry in the shadows, wanting to disappear. It's strange how humans work. You can receive countless compliments but only believe the negative comments. It's easy to understand, I guess. The bad stuff is just easier to believe. But you always have that little voice in the back of your head to tell you that it's not true. That you're better than that to accept the crappy people of the world. And everything becomes okay again. So who is your comfort voice? Your mother? A gradparent? A friend? Now wipe them away. Let them disappear for just a moment and let self conciousness bleed into your body. Nobody there for comfort. No way to reach them. You've just stepped into Faye's shoes. In that exact moment of reaching the light, she lost that voice - herself. The greatest gift that could ever be bestowed upon humankind was that small intonation that carried you away from life's problems, and Faye lost it.
Short, I know. I hope whomever reads this can find their comfort voice. Sorry, I saw "Speak Like A Child" last night and wondered if Faye ever used that as her comfort voice.....I would've......The next chapter will be longer.....promise.
Disclaimer: I do not own Cowboy Bebop or Dexter Freebish's 'A Life Full of Saturdays' or practically anything else except my own ideas........
A Life Full Of Saturdays: My Number
Paula Valentine packed the remaining items of her only daughter's bedroom before loading the small Welsh Corgi into his pet taxi,pausing at the door when her husband asked her to stop. It had been one week since the accident, and the doctors had confirmed that at that moment in time, modern medical technology could not save their daughter. However, a technique of freezing the body until new advances in medicine could be found was a given option. It was either freeze Faye's body or watch her die. Harold Valentine opted for the freezing, knowing he was giving his daughter a second chance at life. There was the chance that the advance in medicine they needed could be years from then, and she would live a life without him. But he was willing to take that chance. Just to know that his daughter would live again. No doctor would tell him that there was no hope....no other road she could take. He kissed his daughter's forehead one last time before she was sent to the chamber. The doctor entered a few minutes later.
"Now, there are some drawbacks. This is an experimental technique. Faye could lose a few of her memories when she wakes up." Harold didn't say anything. He just turned and left the hospital, hoping that the only other call he would recieve from them would be the answer to a punctured lung.
Now, Harold sat in front of Faye's televsion, noticing the tape she had made when she was thirteen. He held the tape in his large hands, not wanting to smear the touch Faye had left on it before the wreck.
"Harry...if ou want to keep the tape then bring it with you. I can't stay here much longer." Paula wiped at her red eyes. Spencer was leaning on a wall across the room, staring at the same videotape. Silence fell on the room like a heavy weight. Nobody wanted to do anything with the tape, in fear that if Faye woke up, she couldn't return to that period of innocence. Finally, Paula spoke up. She knew what had to be said.
"I don't know if she meant it or not.....I mean, we were fighting when she told me this. But she wanted the tape sent around. Like a time capsule. To remind people what it's like to be happy, I guess." She had failed to mention that the real reason Faye wanted the tape sent around was to show people that she was happy without her mother. But at a time like that, Paula refused to admit to herself that her daughter despised her. Harold held the tape up to the light. It seemed like a good idea. Even if it did come from his wife's mouth.
"I'll do it." Spencer managed to speak up. He had remained quiet since the wreck. Inside though, he was screaming for forgiveness. Why did he end that night on such bad terms?
"You do that. Thank you." Harold handed the lanky man the tape following the VCR. "Just in case they don't make these suckers when she wakes up." He meant it as a joke, but he had no idea how much truth lay in his words.
In Faye's mind, a child clawed at her warped brain, desperate to get through to the violet haired woman. "I'm always here for you." How Faye craved to hear those words. She needed someone to hold her, and tell her everything would be all right. Sure, she had a tough exterior as a tomyboy to the outside world. But inside, she yearned for that someone to whisper in her ear and speak sweet nothings ;as if the world was meant for only them. "Please don't forget me..." The voice was so small, so childish. "I won't. At least, i'll try not to." "That's all I ask. That's all I can ask." The voice deminished, and Faye was left alone, in a harsh cold that couldn't escape. And in way, she didn't want to escape. She was too scared to meet back with the world and face those she had ruined.
Spencer wrapped the videotape up tightly in borwn packaging. He smiled as he checked the 'Cash On Delivery' box. He could still have some fun, even if he wasn't around to see the look on her face when she received the package and had to pay. It was something Faye hated to do. Sure, she gave to charities in town. But usually, it was only a dollar. And she would still cringe when she threw it, yes threw it, in the plastic tub. So, he could just imagine the grinch-like expressions she would make when she would have to dig in her pocket for the desired amount of money and regrettably give it to the man. Spencer sighed. It had been forty-eight hours and yet he already missed her. He shoved the smaller of the two packages to the right and started on the VCR.
For fifty four years, the world still went round. People still went about their daily routines, unaware of the fact that Faye was about to wake up. Of course, nobody would tell her that her father had died of a heart attack four years after the accident. Or that Paula Valentine had kept the cracked cell phone, in hopes that one day it would ring, and she would hear Faye's smooth voice. Then Paula could apologize for everything she had done. Nobody would tell her that Spencer Spiegel had married and had a son, who also ended up having a son to carry on the Spiegel name. Of course, nobody told SPENCER that his grandson, Spike, wouldn't really bring pride to the Spiegel name. Nobody would tell Faye that her mother died of old age as a lonely woman carrying a dead cell phone in her wrinkly fingers. Nobody would tell Faye that it was her name spoken as Spencer's last words. Nobody would tell her that sometimes second chances are hard to come by. And that Lady Luck was on her side to have Faye cross paths with Spike. Course, once again, nobody would tell her that it would easy either. But on that faithful day, doctors thought that waking the orchid haired woman was a good idea, considering that a cure for her punctured lung had been concocted and perfected a few years earlier.
Faye could see the light and remembered that she was told from someone before that if you see the bright light, to walk away. It was funny, but during her sleep, she could a man's voice yell out numbers. Was it God? Did God have a waiting list for people? And Faye just picked a really long number? "Don't forget me..." It was the voice again. "I don't want to but...." She tried. She tried her damnest when the light hit her, to cling onto the pre-teen in her mind. She didn't want to lose it. It was the one thing she had left to hang on to. For a long time, Faye held on to thoughts, but with time, the thoughts disappeared. But that small voice would pop up again and tell Faye that she was there for her. And darkness would surround Faye again. The little girl would tell Faye jokes and stories of slumber parties and first kisses. But Faye couldn't imagine such things. She just couldn't SEE them. So the girl would end up telling her fairy tales to liven up the darkness. Faye's favorite was the one of the sleeping beauty. Faye wished her handsome prince would wake her up right about then. And he did, only, he wasn't handsome. He was an older man. And he wasn't a prince. But considering his profession, he might be as rich as one.
It was then that Faye decided God definetly had a waiting list for people like her. Not quite dead but not feeling alive. The numbers, she would find out, were numerical identifications. But in Faye's simple mind, Brother John or Billy Bob or whomever would spend endless hours callling out numbers. 'No. Not your turn yet, Faye. I'm afraid your number hadn't been called.' She felt like she would spend an eternity just waiting for that number...her number to be called forth into the pearly gates. She would also find out that the gates weren't pearly at all, but more of a cheap off white. Heaven must have a budget plan. Smart people, she thought. But the light was on her now. And she went to it, leaving behind the number, the economy-sized portal, the stories, and the little girl. And from then on, she would never be able to find the girl, unable to get the reassurance she needed to move on. Anyone can tell you that you're beautiful and one of a kind. But will you still believe you're ugly? Anyone can tell you that you're smart and worth something. But will you still feel worthless? Sometimes. So you go and cry in the shadows, wanting to disappear. It's strange how humans work. You can receive countless compliments but only believe the negative comments. It's easy to understand, I guess. The bad stuff is just easier to believe. But you always have that little voice in the back of your head to tell you that it's not true. That you're better than that to accept the crappy people of the world. And everything becomes okay again. So who is your comfort voice? Your mother? A gradparent? A friend? Now wipe them away. Let them disappear for just a moment and let self conciousness bleed into your body. Nobody there for comfort. No way to reach them. You've just stepped into Faye's shoes. In that exact moment of reaching the light, she lost that voice - herself. The greatest gift that could ever be bestowed upon humankind was that small intonation that carried you away from life's problems, and Faye lost it.
Short, I know. I hope whomever reads this can find their comfort voice. Sorry, I saw "Speak Like A Child" last night and wondered if Faye ever used that as her comfort voice.....I would've......The next chapter will be longer.....promise.