Disclaimer: Well, I could go on and on about how much I wished I owned
Artemis Fowl, and how I really don't, but I'd rather not.
A/N: Kudos to everyone who reviewed, I feel very loved(
Summary: Rather odd ficlet based on the musings of the darling, but insane lady who lived in the Fowl attic for the better part of the first book. Yes, I know the timing's a bit screwed but I'm taking artistic license... really...
*
All Right
Too bright. Toobrighttoobrighttoobright. I wish I could claw my eyes out. Why won't little Arty close the blinds?
Speaking of Arty, where is he? Who is that boy in my room? Is he a perverted servant come to stare at me in my nightgown? I should think my husband had better taste in staff. Oh good, he's gone. And he closed the blinds.
Is that a cat?
I've always loved cats but we never got one. Artemis was allergic... oh. Where has the cat gone? It was here just a minute ago... Maybe if I sing it will come back?
Rain, rain, go away, come again another day... rain, rain, go away- wait, don't cats like rain? Or is that dogs? Oh, this is much too confusing. Someone probably put that cat in here just to bother me. Probably took it out again through the window to make me think I was seeing things. But I'm not seeing things. Only insane people see things.
I could go for some caviar about now. I'm very hungry. Could I eat that cat perhaps? No, all that blood and raw meat would make the room smell bad.
Maybe I should become a painter? I like art. Not Picasso though. He's insane. I don't like insane people. They always frighten me. Which is a horrible thing to say, I'm sure they can't help it. Did Picasso see things?
These sheets are very itchy. What are they made of? I hope it's nothing acrylic. Ick, I could only sleep in silk. Nylon would make me sweat. Only poor people sweat. Sweat... sweating, sweated, sweater...
I used to have a lovely angora hair sweater. It was deep red and went down to my knees. I wonder where it's got to... Artemis bought it for me when we visited Paris for our twelfth anniversary...
On the bedside table there is a glass of wine. At least, I think it's wine, hard to tell in the dark. I reach out and take a sip of it. Definitely wine. Red, and very expensive, probably French. It does however have an odd side after taste... sort of like...
... too bright. Squinting, I open my eyes. I must have fallen asleep... odd, I don't remember...
There's a girl opening the window, she's very short. I've never seen her before, must be a servant.
She turns around, smiling. She's gorgeous. If she weren't so small she'd make an excellent model. Funny, you'd think I'd recognize someone like that hanging around the house. Plus I do meet with all the staff personally... hmmm. Very strange.
She winks at me and says: "Don't tell Arty you saw me... he wants to be the first to greet you, I think."
She's got such a lovely voice. Mesmerizing almost. Of course I won't tell Arty, why would I? I open my mouth to say as much but she's gone. Was I dreaming? She seemed so real though... maybe I'm seeing things. I blink, rubbing my eyes and looking around.
I realize I'm in the attic. What on earth am I doing there? The room is dark save for the square of pale sunlight drifting through the open window. There is dust everywhere and pieces of broken porcelain decorate the floor.
I shake my head. Odd place for me to fall a sleep and wake up hallucinating... did I drink to much last night? I've been doing that since Artemis was... lost.
Speaking of Artemis: Arty! How horrid of me! Just leaving him on his own like that. Totally irresponsible. Oh dear. I must go down and see him right away, tell him I'm all right. Yes, he'll want to know I'm all right.
-Finis
A/N: Kudos to everyone who reviewed, I feel very loved(
Summary: Rather odd ficlet based on the musings of the darling, but insane lady who lived in the Fowl attic for the better part of the first book. Yes, I know the timing's a bit screwed but I'm taking artistic license... really...
*
All Right
Too bright. Toobrighttoobrighttoobright. I wish I could claw my eyes out. Why won't little Arty close the blinds?
Speaking of Arty, where is he? Who is that boy in my room? Is he a perverted servant come to stare at me in my nightgown? I should think my husband had better taste in staff. Oh good, he's gone. And he closed the blinds.
Is that a cat?
I've always loved cats but we never got one. Artemis was allergic... oh. Where has the cat gone? It was here just a minute ago... Maybe if I sing it will come back?
Rain, rain, go away, come again another day... rain, rain, go away- wait, don't cats like rain? Or is that dogs? Oh, this is much too confusing. Someone probably put that cat in here just to bother me. Probably took it out again through the window to make me think I was seeing things. But I'm not seeing things. Only insane people see things.
I could go for some caviar about now. I'm very hungry. Could I eat that cat perhaps? No, all that blood and raw meat would make the room smell bad.
Maybe I should become a painter? I like art. Not Picasso though. He's insane. I don't like insane people. They always frighten me. Which is a horrible thing to say, I'm sure they can't help it. Did Picasso see things?
These sheets are very itchy. What are they made of? I hope it's nothing acrylic. Ick, I could only sleep in silk. Nylon would make me sweat. Only poor people sweat. Sweat... sweating, sweated, sweater...
I used to have a lovely angora hair sweater. It was deep red and went down to my knees. I wonder where it's got to... Artemis bought it for me when we visited Paris for our twelfth anniversary...
On the bedside table there is a glass of wine. At least, I think it's wine, hard to tell in the dark. I reach out and take a sip of it. Definitely wine. Red, and very expensive, probably French. It does however have an odd side after taste... sort of like...
... too bright. Squinting, I open my eyes. I must have fallen asleep... odd, I don't remember...
There's a girl opening the window, she's very short. I've never seen her before, must be a servant.
She turns around, smiling. She's gorgeous. If she weren't so small she'd make an excellent model. Funny, you'd think I'd recognize someone like that hanging around the house. Plus I do meet with all the staff personally... hmmm. Very strange.
She winks at me and says: "Don't tell Arty you saw me... he wants to be the first to greet you, I think."
She's got such a lovely voice. Mesmerizing almost. Of course I won't tell Arty, why would I? I open my mouth to say as much but she's gone. Was I dreaming? She seemed so real though... maybe I'm seeing things. I blink, rubbing my eyes and looking around.
I realize I'm in the attic. What on earth am I doing there? The room is dark save for the square of pale sunlight drifting through the open window. There is dust everywhere and pieces of broken porcelain decorate the floor.
I shake my head. Odd place for me to fall a sleep and wake up hallucinating... did I drink to much last night? I've been doing that since Artemis was... lost.
Speaking of Artemis: Arty! How horrid of me! Just leaving him on his own like that. Totally irresponsible. Oh dear. I must go down and see him right away, tell him I'm all right. Yes, he'll want to know I'm all right.
-Finis