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Cursed
Chapter Twenty Four: Family
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November 14, 2008
Costume Design is supposed to be an optional class. However, when you're a month away from graduation and you don't even have your new name, it becomes a little less optional and a little more necessary. The class is held on Fridays, two hours after all the other classes get out, so to most it's more of an inconvenience than anything. But seeing as not so long ago the closest thing I had to a friend was my sketchbook, I've never minded putting in the extra effort. Especially since today is the day when all of our efforts are paying off.
As the official class sketchbooks are passed out by our instructor, a tired old woman with a dull look in her eyes, I begin to feel a mixture of excitement and nervousness. The instructor sets my book in front of me, and it makes a soft thud as it hits the desk. Although she gives pencils and erasers to the other students, she has long since learned that I bring my own. Thus, she moves on to the next student and leaves me alone with my imagination.
Well, this is it. The big day. The last day. The day I finally get to create my costume.
I remember back to before I was kidnapped. My foster father and I would sit at the kitchen table together for hours on end as he would teach me how to draw. It wasn't just drawing, though. He taught me everything. What colors looked best together, the history of different art styles, why art is important. He used to say that writing was an art too, and that some of the best art tells a story. So that's what I plan to do.
I take my pencil case out of my backpack and lay out three freshly sharpened pencils, an eraser, and a handful of colored pencils. Then, I begin to sketch. The sketch begins to take the form of what resembles a witch's costume, in honor of how I got these stupid powers to begin with. I add stripes to the leggings, and try to remember practicality when designing the shoes (though admittedly there becomes a point where I start letting my heart take over). Then I outline the whole thing in thicker markings, and erase some of the thinner lines. I glance at the clock and realize that time's almost up, so I hastily color it in. It's not my best work, but it still looks okay. It's just missing something.
I stare at the paper for a minute, wondering what Dad would think of it. I'm sure he would be proud, even though I can't say the same for his thoughts on the drawing's purpose. I miss him, and the rest of my family, but I know they wouldn't want me back if they saw me now. That's just the way things are. Still, I think he'd agree with me that something is missing…
That's it!
Taking my black and blue pencils, I carefully draw a sapphire necklace with a thick black strap. It's not just any necklace, mind you. It belonged to Aunt Mallory before she died, and it belonged to her grandmother before that. On my fifth birthday, my foster parents gave it to me as a promise that they were going to adopt me and Felicity. They explained to me the significance of an heirloom, and that they wouldn't have given it to me if I wasn't family. I took it everywhere with me, but I never wore it- I was too scared of losing it. Usually, I would stick it in my backpack, where it remains to this very day. Putting it onto my costume would be a way to have my family with me, no matter where I go.
I put my things away and turn lay my sketchbook on the instructor's desk. She doesn't look up at me, too engrossed in her book. I quickly write a note to the side with my student ID, mentioning that this is the uniform I want- just in case there's any confusion. Slinging my backpack over my shoulders, I'm about to walk away when I hear Angela's usual complaints.
"Eww, it looks like something you'd buy at the dollar store for a baby. You wouldn't catch me dead in that," Angela scoffs, tossing her blonde curls.
Why is she even here? She's not graduating this year!
I roll my eyes and cross my arms. "My dad's an artist. Trust me, I know what I'm doing. Unlike you."
"An artist isn't even a real job," Angela scowls. "He was probably just lazy."
"Actually, dad has two jobs. So I'd say he's a lot more hardworking than you'll ever be."
The instructor continues to ignore us. Either that's a really good book, or she just doesn't care. I'm willing to bet money on the latter.
Angela's eyes soften in mock pity. "Oh, you must've been really poor if he had to do that. You know how those starving artists are. They just can't wake up and face reality."
"He's a doctor," I say with a scowl. "I'd say we were doing pretty good. Even if we weren't, that's not your business."
"How do you know so much about your dad if he abandoned you?"
"I'm not talking about the dad that abandoned me."
Angela's lips curl into a cruel smile, and suddenly I realize what I just said.
"You're adopted?" she laughs. "Hey, everyone! Mallory was adopted!"
The students in the room all look up, and before I know it I'm the center of attention. A chorus of laughter erupts as I back against the wall. I take a deep breath and look Angela dead in the eyes.
"So what? That just means my parents wanted me," I say shakily.
Memories of my old school play through my head. While most of the students there thought it was cool that I was going to be adopted, there was always that group of jerks who didn't see things the same way. Mom and Dad always told me that even if they were my biological parents, they would've found something else to tease me about. That doesn't mean it didn't hurt, though.
"No, it just means that your real parents didn't," Angela sneers. "Besides, if you're here, that means that your fake parents didn't either."
I sniff back tears, but they fall down my cheek anyways.
"Wow! Most of us only have one set of parents that didn't want us, but I guess you had two! What does that say about you?" Angela says.
"Shut up!" I yell, punching her in the face.
Angela screams, and the instructor finally looks up from her book.
"Mallory!" she snaps. "What did you do this time?"
I look between everyone in the room, swallow the lump in my throat, and do the only thing I can think of.
I run.
I sprint out of the classroom, and then down the hall, then out of the building itself. I keep running, and I don't stop.
My cheeks are red from embarrassment, and my tears freeze to my face in the cold November air. My legs begin to feel tired, but I don't stop running. All I want to do is leave that place. I don't know where I'll go, but as long as it's where Angela isn't I'll go there. In the distance, I see a city. A faded sign reading "Welcome to Split City" sits on a hill, and I realize just how far I've ran.
I sit down next to the sign and hug my backpack to my chest. Tears drip down my neck, and I struggle to wipe them all off on my sleeve. The wind hits me fiercely, but my hair still stays up somehow. I fall over on my side and sigh. Why did I do this? I don't know why I thought this would be a good idea. It's cold outside, my legs hurt, and I'll just have to go home eventually. I hate all of this. I hate Angela for being such a jerk. I hate myself for being so irrational.
"Mallory?"
I look up and see a very confused, very annoyed Leo.
"Hey Leo," I say, sitting up. "What are you doing here?"
He scowls. "Running away. You?"
I nod my head. "Same here. Why? What's going on?"
"I don't want to go home for winter break," he says. "So I'm not going to."
I stand up, brushing off my uniform. "Well, I'm not going back either. Need some company?"
He shrugs, looking into the distance.
"Leo?"
Leo sighs. "Yeah sure, why not. But you better not slow me down."
We shake hands.
"Wouldn't dream of it."
…..
Hi again! Happy New Year! I know, it's kind of late for that, but bear with me. While I'm not usually one to make resolutions (since it usually turns into an excuse to wait for January to start making an effort to change), I have decided that this year I'm going to try harder on a lot of things- writing being one of them. I'm hoping that this time next year this story will be complete, or at least nearing its final chapter.
Reviews:
nomnomthegreat- Thanks! I try to make things different than the other Jinx fics I've read. The Titans are only a few chapters away, and I can't wait to get to that part either! I like reading the endings of fanfics too. There's something satisfying about seeing the story you've followed for so long finally come to a close :)
Silver-Infinite- (late) Merry Christmas to you too :)
Cliche Girl- Yes, Angela is Angel. Out of all the characters in the story, I think See-More is one of the ones who changes the most as he gets older and the story progresses. He's been an interesting character to write, to say the least. Without getting too far into spoiler territory, I would say there's a certain point where you can see his feelings start to shift. I'm actually really looking forward to writing that scene. I think it'll be a good one ;)
Quote of the day:
"The hypotenuse of a triangle has nothing to do with being high because pot is in use." -my math book
(Yes, the entire textbook is like that. It's the best thing ever.)
May the odds be ever in your favor,
Spectrobes Princess