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 Posted: Sun Jun 29, 2008 5:25 pm
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Posted: Thu Jul 03, 2008 8:52 am
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Ok so looking for a story on my computer just now I found this. It was a story we had to write back in sixth grade for Halloween. It makes me laugh so much! I mean it was waaay back sixth grade, right? mad d: I forgot all about this.... surprised
Sorry it's so long:
The Ghoul Next Door
(c) Queen Elizabeth III
Sorry about the formatting by the way....silly Word documents.... o__O
The Ghoul Next Door
Chapter 1
Vanessa was ecstatic. It was her first day in her new home, new city, new state, it was practically a whole new world, and she’d already started to make friends. "The girl next door is a spirit and the little boy down the street is Frankenstein's son!" she exclaimed that night at the dinner table.
"The Frankensteins? Why I remember them! Such a nice family, it's a shame we haven't seen them in so long." Her mother reminisced while stirring the gooey mess boiling in the cauldron over the stove.
"And the best part," Vanessa continued, "is the house across the street. A sorceress lives there! Today I saw her out in her yard poking a toy frog with her wand. She was obviously not doing so well with her spell so I went over to help. I turned the toy frog into a real one and then turned it pink 'cause I like that color better than the green it was before. Then the girl screamed and ran inside to get her mom. I guess she was just really excited that I had taught her the spell!"
"It's nice to see you've made some friends." Mrs. Haunter gushed, reaching for some cobra's fang and a pinch of werewolf's hair for the stew she was making. "Oh my, we're running a bit low," she furrowed her brow, examining the contents inside the crystal jar. “You and I will have to give your father a hair cut this weekend, so we can restock." Mr. Haunter howled from somewhere deep inside the house. “Oh, Harry!” Mrs. Haunter sighed. “I do hope he hasn’t been chasing the cat again!” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Vanessa, have you fed…”
“Oh!” Vanessa jumped up from the table, scattering spell books and papers and toppling her chair in the process. She gave a guilty smile and hurried out of the room.
Jenny had started outgrowing Halloween long ago. First came the fall when she found out that the boogieman was only a myth. That had taken the fun out of trick-or-treating in the dark. The next year she had gotten food poisoning. Good-bye candy. This year, as Halloween rolled around once again, Jenny was almost annoyed to see everyone in town in such a frenzy. So what? You dress up in hot, stifling polyester costumes, ring doorbells, and eat sugary foods until you puke. Big whoop! Where were the real monsters? Didn’t anyone every dress up as anything interesting anymore? (And no, that one time her little brother had thrown a sheet over his head and run around town screaming “Boo!” didn’t count.)
Now, Jenny sat with her younger sister Katie, Spectre Oak’s very own fairy princess. Katie sat Indian style under the big tree in their front yard and squinted at the toy frog at her feet. “Jenny! Why won’t it work?” She whined.
“Because,” Jenny whined back, “you aren’t doing it right.” Katie stuck out her tongue and rolled her eyes stubbornly. “Give it here. It’ll show you,” Jenny instructed, grabbing the fairy princess’s wand. It was made of a cheap, translucent pink plastic with a large heart at the tip. Small canary yellow and peach pink feathers surrounded the heart, which "magically" lit up if you touched it in the center. The toy frog had come with the wand. “Guaranteed to turn even the ugliest of frogs into your Prince Charming,” the box had boasted. Now as Jenny held the stiff plastic in her hands she couldn’t have felt any less magical. Still, she put on what she hoped was a wise and knowing face to impress her little sister. When she spoke, her voice was deep, a low, soft whisper. Very mystical, and mysterious, thought Jenny.
“First you must close your eyes and picture the effect you’d like to achieve.” Though Jenny herself had her eyes closed she knew that Katie was cheating. “It doesn’t work if your eyes aren’t closed,” she taunted in an almost singsong voice. She heard Katie clap her palms over her eyes to refrain from peeking. “Then, you must—you can open your eyes now—you must wave the wand like this.” She demonstrated the movement with a graceful wave and a flick of her wrist. Jenny handed the wand to Katie. ”Now you try.” She rested her hands on her knees and watched as Katie waved the wand roughly between her stubby, three-year-old fingers. It was actually more like the shaking of a maraca than a graceful wave of a sorceress’s wand.
Jenny shrugged, “Close enough,” Katie smiled proudly. “But we still have one more step. We need to say the magic words.”
“You mean like abrah-um-abrah-rah---“
“Abracadabra? No, for this spell we need something a little more…” She screwed up her face in concentration. “Oh I know! I’ll turn this little guy into a prince in no time!” Jenny closed her eyes and sat silently. After ten seconds Katie started to grown impatient. After 20 she’d begun to squirm in her seat. At 45 she gave up completely and poked Jenny hard in the ribs. “Go on!” she whispered rather loudly.
Jenny started her spell slowly,
“Little froggy, little froggy,
green and warty, slimy too,
close your eyes and count to ten,
we’ll soon have made a prince of you!”
Jenny opened her eyes excitedly. A prince! A prince! A---oh, still a frog. What had she done wrong? She glanced at her sister who stared blankly at the plastic frog.
“It didn’t work.” She said lazily, clearly losing interest in the whole sorceresses business.
“Oh, I know that! I just wanted to see if you did!” Jenny lied lamely. “If the spell doesn’t work, and I admit it wasn’t one of my best, you can always give the frog a little prod.” But it was too late; Katie had now completely forgotten about her wand lessons and hurried off instead to play dolls. Jenny, irritated and bored, continued her ruthless poking of the plastic amphibian. She had so far managed to roll it onto its hard underbelly when a shadow gathered itself in front of her, blocking out the sun.
“Hi!” it said, “What’re ya doing?”
“Turning this frog into my prince charming,” Jenny replied with all of the little dignity she had left to muster.
“Oh!” The shadow person was strangely intrigued. “Is that your wand?” She swiped Katie’s wand from Jenny’s grasp and examined it closely. Jenny stood up to better examine the shadow and found that it wasn’t a shadow at all but a girl. She had long black hair and thick, wavy ringlets that rested easily on her pale shoulders. She wore a pink and purple checkerboard patterned sundress and dark purple pumps. She frowned slightly, “This isn’t a very good wand.” Then, realizing Jenny’s embarrassment she added, “Not to be rude.”
“No offense taken,” Jenny said clearing her throat. “It’s my sister’s after all.”
The girl continued as if talking to herself, “But it’ll have to do.” She shrugged and sat down on her knees. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath just as Jenny had done. Then, squinting her eyes against the orange, autumn sun, she looked at Jenny. “Don’t you have a spell?”
“Spell?” Jenny faltered, unable to believe that this strange girl was about to attempt sorcery. Did she think Jenny was nuts for trying it herself? Or was it the girl who was a little wrong in the head? Or maybe, by a very slim chance, this girl was a real sorceress! In that case Jenny would never tell her her own foolish “spell.” No way! Jenny shook her head numbly to clear it.
“But you have to have a spell! Every sorceress has a spell! Unless, oh my! You must be one of those really advanced sorceresses—I can’t believe I didn’t realize—this is so embarrassing! Would it be all right if I used a spell?” she added sheepishly.
Jenny nodded, her mouth feeling dry. She didn’t bother to correct the girl’s information.
“Let’s see.” She focused her gaze on the frog, staring him down. The girl began to mumble under her breath. Right in front of Jenny’s eyes the toy frog began to bubble and, shortly after that, to croak from deep inside its throat. The girl had done it! A real frog! Jenny gaped at her and the frog in turn.
“Oh! I can never get it right! It is a real frog now but he’s no Prince Charming. Would you mind?” As the girl waved Katie’s wand again the frog began to change colors. First from red to blue, then black to purple, and finally, with a swipe of the wand, the young sorceress changed the frog's color to pink. “There, I think this suits him better than that plain old green. Don’t you?” She smiled, handing the wand back to Jenny.
Jenny fumbled it between her fingers, her eyes the size of dinner plates. It was all too much! She grabbed the frog and sprinted for the front door to her house, screaming her head off all the while.
“You’re welcome,” Vanessa called after her.
Chapter 2
Vanessa hurried outside to their pool. To make it feel like home for the Haunter’s goldfish, Little Nessie, (named after Vanessa, of course) they had covered the pool with pebbles and small stones and magically encouraged algae to grow upon the sides. “Oh! I’m so sorry! I made a new friend and I was so excited that I completely forgot about you!” Little Nessie opened her mouth in what could have been a starving “feed me!” expression or a simple “glub, glub, glub!” Vanessa took it as a signal her fish was hungry and took a can of fish food from the side of the pool. “Here you go, little guy.”
As Little Nessie finished her dinner, a low grumble was heard from the depths of the pool. Vanessa gasped, one hand flying to her mouth. The head (and teeth) of a sea serpent emerged from the murky bottom, swallowing Little Nessie whole. Vanessa leapt to her feet laughing as the Loch Ness Monster pretended to eat the goldfish, signaling to Vanessa that she was hungry for her dinner as well. “Nessie! Spit her out right now and I’ll go get your dinner.” The sea monster bellowed and a wide-eyed goldfish tumbled from her ferocious jaws.
“Mom!’” Jenny ran into the kitchen dodging stray Barbies and hurdling over the family’s over stuffed couches in the process. Once in the kitchen, Jenny continued her screaming until she was blue in the face. Her mother, who had been attempting to make dinner, hold a gossipy conversation on the phone, and feed Jenny’s 18-month-old brother now hurried over to Jenny, ushering her into a chair.
“Jenny, Jenny, use your big girl words, you’re giving Mommy a headache.” She knelt down until she was level with her daughter. “Oh, honey, what’s happened to you?”
“Oh my God, Mom! I just met our new neighbors and let me tell you they are frea-ky!” Jenny began talking very fast and making flailing motions with her hands. “So I was trying to make a frog turn into a prince, right? And then this girl comes over, takes the wand, and starts talking ‘bout how it isn’t very good but it’ll have to work. So she waves the wand and turns the plastic frog into a real one. Then she turned it pink!” Jenny’s voice rose shrilly.
“So, wait. You tried to turn the frog into who now?” Jenny’s mom tried tiredly to piece together the story.
“Prince Charming, Mom!” Jenny said as if it was the most ordinary thing in the world. “Then the girl turned Katie’s toy frog into a real pink frog!”
“A pink frog?”
“Yes, Mom! Here, I’ll show you!” Jenny took the frog from her pocket and held it under her mom’s nose.
Jenny’s mom gave a start and leapt backwards. “Jennifer!”
“Mom!”
“Jenny, get that frog out of my house this instant! Eew!” She shrieked.
“But Mom, it’s not just any frog, it’s a pink frog!”
“Jenny sweetheart,” she reasoned, “I don’t care what color it is, just make it go away!”
“But I’d need my wand back for that.”
“Jenny!”
Sighing, Jenny walked to the back door, opened the screen and crouched down to free her not-so-handsome prince. But before he could get much farther than a single leap would take him, Jenny swept him back into her hands and placed him into her pocket.
“Mom?” she called. “I think I’m gonna take a walk.”
She watched her mother step off the chair on which she’d been standing and checking under that table to make sure no other frogs had found their way into her kitchen before giving Jenny a shaky smile and nod.
Jenny returned the gesture and waved. Then she patted the pocket containing her frog and set off around the house and across the street.
Chapter 3
“Hi, um, I’m looking for—uh—”
“Vanessa?” Vanessa’s mother glanced down her nose at Jenny. Assuming this was the young sorceress Vanessa had spoken of, she couldn’t help but look her up and down. In her ripped jeans, long tank top, flip flops and summer tan, Jenny didn’t look like any traditional sorceress. Of course Vanessa wasn’t very traditional either, but she was definantly more so than this girl. That was just like Vanessa, making friends with the rebellious, different sorts. “Of course, I’ll go get her for you. Would you like to come in?”
Jenny stepped inside timidly. At 6’2’’ Vanessa’s mother stood much taller than herself, and she dressed in all black as well: a black silken dress, and a back moonstone pendant made her and her clothing look very much like a sorceress was expected to look. But she wasn’t frightening; she had a gentle smile and spoke very warmly to Jenny.
“Vanessa?” Mrs. Haunter called again. “I’m sorry, I just don’t know where she’s run off to.”
“That’s all right, Mrs.—“
“Haunter. But you may call me Susan, if you’d like.”
“Thanks, uh, Susan.”
Just then Vanessa bounded into the room. “You called—hey!” Vanessa smiled excitedly. “Your name’s Jenny, right?”
How did she know that?
As if to answer Jenny’s question Vanessa giggled and pointed to her shirt. “Hope I don’t come off as a freak. I don’t read minds, though Aunty Lena can a little. I just saw your shirt.”
Jenny looked down. Sure enough her shirt said “Jenny” in bold print under the number 13. It was her favorite shirt ever because it had come from a soccer camp she had attended a few years back at which their team was named the “Springfield Sorceresses.”
Vanessa giggled again. Jenny liked her laugh. It was friendly, bubbly.
“Vanessa, why don’t you show Jenny your room?” Mrs. Haunter said. “It was very nice meeting you, Jennifer,” she added with a wink. Unsure of what she should do in the presence of a sorceress, she winked back and extended a hand. Mrs. Haunter laughed and shook it. She was the kind of person who wore lots of rings on her fingers. Jenny liked those kinds of people.
As Vanessa’s mother disappeared, Vanessa walked over to Jenny and linked arms with her as if they had been friends for a long time, not just had a startling first encounter only a half-hour before. “I see you’ve met my mom. Did she as you to call her Susan?” Vanessa groaned. “Parents can be so embarrassing!”
“I think she’s pretty cool. Is she a—“ Jenny regretted the words before they had even left her mouth.
“Sorceress? Yeah, she is. Is your Mom? Or is it from your Dad’s side?” They had reached the door to Vanessa’s room now, and Jenny was itching to take a peek inside.
“Actually I’m—wow!”
Vanessa’s room was painted a dark ruby with plum and peach accents. The walls were antiqued, ancient and falling apart in places, though somehow, it managed to look new, like a room right out of a designer catalogue. Floating (actually floating!) shelves adorned her walls. On these shelves sat spell books and potion ingredients, as well as a few beanie babies and pictures of her family on various vacations: visiting the Middle Ages, riding on the backs of dinosaurs, meeting the famous Cleopatra herself. As Jenny gawked at the pictures Vanessa moved across the room to her bed: a large four-poster with dozens of fancy embroidered pillows and a quilted orange and gold and yellow comforter.
“So what about your family?” The sudden sound of Vanessa’s voice gave Jenny a start.
“My family?” Jenny racked her brains trying to remember what they had been talking about. “Oh, um, actually my Mom and Dad aren’t…special,” she said, realizing that Vanessa had been wondering where she got (or didn’t get) her magic from. “Not, um, magical I mean.”
“So it’s just you? How cool is that! It must get kind of lonely sometimes though, being the only sorceress in your family.”
“It doesn’t actually.” Jenny suddenly felt hot patches form on her cheeks. It wasn’t a complete lie, but it wasn’t the truth either. “Um, actually, it doesn’t get lonely, because…I’m not a sorceress.”
Vanessa laughed. Not mockingly, but as if Jenny had just come up with the funniest joke she’d ever heard.
“No, it’s true.”
Vanessa stopped laughing and stared hard at Jenny. “Seriously? But what about the frog?”
“I was pretending. Sure, I wish I was a witch,”
“We prefer the term sorceress,” Vanessa said, not unkindly.
“Oh, right, well I wish I was a sorceress but I’m not.” Jenny turned away, expecting Vanessa to do something awful, like turn her into a frog.
Instead Vanessa got to her feet and hugged Jenny’s shoulders, guiding her onto the bed. “It’s ok, really.”
“You aren’t mad?”
“Why would I be? I probably scared you, it’s no wonder you didn’t say anything before. It’s just hard, you know. It’s a new town, I haven’t met any one like me here so I jumped at the slightest thought that you might have been—“ She sighed, then, sensing it was troubling Jenny, changed the subject. “If I scared you, which — don’t deny it — I did, why’d you come back here anyways?”
“I brought you your frog.” Jenny said awkwardly. “My mom wouldn’t let me keep it.”
“Thanks.” Vanessa said, suddenly cheery again. “He’s cute. What should we call him?”
“Timmy.” Jenny offered. “Doesn’t he look like a Timmy?”
Vanessa studied the amphibian. “He does,” she nodded her approval. “Timmy it is!”
Chapter 4
Over the next few days the girls met frequently.
“So if you aren’t a sorceress, and practically no one here is, then what about the other creatures?” Vanessa asked one day. She indicated the different houses along the street as she spoke, “The Frankensteins, a werewolf, and over there, there lives a banshee, right?”
“Only for Halloween.” Jenny answered, handing Vanessa an ice cream sandwich. To celebrate the holiday the cookie was shaped like a jack-o-lantern. Vanessa seemed to like it. She pondered Jenny’s words as she licked the melting ice cream from the sides of the cookie.
“What’s that?”
Jenny had to hold back a laugh. “You don’t know what Halloween is?”
“No, maybe I don’t.” Vanessa racked her brain but found nothing to do with “Halloween” anywhere. “Tell me about it.”
“Halloween comes once every year, on October 31. That’s next week,” Jenny added, in case Vanessa didn’t know.
Vanessa nodded, taking a bite out of her sandwich. “Go on.”
“And on Halloween everyone gets to dress up. But not like just anything, it has to — well, it should be — something scary. No offense,” Jenny added hastily, “but to us, banshees and Frankenstein are pretty scary. So it’s fun to dress up like them on Halloween and have a laugh. Not a mean laugh, but a “ha, ha, it’s fun to be scared” kind of laugh. Then everyone walks from house to house in their costumes saying, “Trick-or-Treat!” so that they get candy.”
“Interesting,” Vanessa says. “What are you going to dress up as?”
“I dunno. Katie’s going to be a fairy princess, that’s why she had that wand, and my little brother’s going to be a tootsie roll. I was thinking of being a sorceress but now that I saw what you and your mom wear my costume looks totally lame and inauthentic.”
“Oh!” Vanessa squealed. “Show it to me!”
“Really? I don’t think you’d like it.”
“Try me. I just want to see. If it’s really as bad as you say I guess I’ll just have to take you back to my house and let you try on some of my outfits.” Vanessa tempted.
“Really?” Jenny exclaimed, excited at the idea of getting to wear a real sorceress’s costume.
“What are friends for?”
Jenny squealed and ran inside, returning after only a couple of seconds with her costume.
“That was fast.” Vanessa said admiringly. “Are you sure you aren’t magical?”
“I’m sure, no magic. Just quick on my feet.” Jenny held up her costume. “What do you think? Totally lame, no?”
“It’s not totally lame.” Vanessa examined the costume. It was a black polyester dress with a corset bodice tied with purple ribbon and sewn together with green and purple string. The matching hat had green and purple patches on it and a sparkly spider dangling from the tip. Jenny also held a broom. She hadn’t originally planned to use it with her costume but upon finding it she had decided to bring it out to show Vanessa.
“So V., what do you think?”
“I like the sparkles!” Vanessa mused, pointing to the sparkly purple and pink streamers that had taken the place of stiff brown bristles on Jenny’s broom.
“Oh.” Jenny blushed.
“No, really. I wish I had a broom like that! Over all the costume isn’t that bad. The hat’s actually kind of cute, though personally I can’t stand spiders. Apart from the fabric it’s pretty authentic. Just a little bit of ‘bibbity boppity boo’ and you, Miss Cinderella, will be ready for Halloween!”
“You’re going to use magic on my costume?” Though Jenny already knew Vanessa was a sorceress, the fact that she could do magic never ceased to amaze her.
“Why not?” Vanessa stood up and dusted the crumbs off her dress. Today it was a pale yellow with sparkly pumpkins. Jenny loved Vanessa’s dresses. They weren’t a dead giveaway that Vanessa was different, but they certainly were original. They fit Vanessa’s personality. Original, artistic, magical.
“Come on Cinderella, it’s time to get you ready for the ball.”
Chapter 5
Back in Vanessa’s room the girls were hard at work turning Jenny’s Party City costume into an authentic sorceress’s gown, cape, and broomstick.
“Yick! This is itchy, V.” Jenny complained from her perch on the stool. Vanessa circled Jenny, bewitching her sewing needles to hem the shirt, or add a sash whenever she felt it necessary.
“Stand still just one more second, Jen. I still haven’t figured out which fabric to use. Do you want this silky fabric or the soft cotton?” Vanessa conjured two swatches out of the middle of the air and held them up for Jenny to see.
“Which one is less itchy?”
“Hmmm,” Vanessa rubbed her fingers over each of the swatches in turn. “You’re right, let’s go with the cotton.” She waved her wand, a rich mahogany with an ivory base and emerald accents.
“Thank you.” Jenny sighed. She looked at her new flowing skirt, rocking slightly to see how it moved. “It’s nice. Good work, Fairy Godmother.”
“We aren’t done yet. You need some…sparkle.”
“Oh, V., more sequins?” Jenny looked down at the bodice of her dress already adorned with silk ribbons and sequins around the corset as well as the neckline.
“Sequins? No, I was thinking rubies.” Her eyes sparkled. “Blue topaz and rubies and emeralds.” Another flick of her wand and a shower of sparks settled themselves as precious stones on Jenny’s dress.
“I love magic!” Jenny gushed.
“I know.” Vanessa smiled. “Now hop down and spin.” Jenny did as she was told, excited to see her friend’s reaction to her new and improved costume.
“I did a pretty good job if I do say so myself.” Vanessa bubbled. “Jenny, you look Fab-u-lous!”
Chapter 6
It seemed to the girls that Halloween just couldn’t come fast enough.
“Jenny! Don’t you look pretty? Is this the costume Vanessa has been telling me so much about?” Vanessa’s mother nodded approvingly as Vanessa and Jenny came down the stairs in their costumes on Halloween night.
“Vanessa made it for me last week when I came over. Don’t you love it?”
“I do.” Mrs. Haunter smiled at Jenny before turning towards her daughter. “And what are you supposed to be?”
“I’m a cheerleader!” Vanessa spun around excitedly in her costume. “It’s a human thing,” she explained in response to her mother’s confused expression. “You know like with the little dance routines?” Vanessa jumped around and shook her pompoms.
Mrs. Haunter laughed. “All right. Now promise me you two will be back by midnight?”
“Yes, yes, otherwise Cinderella here’ll turn back into a pumpkin. Come on pumpkin girl.” Vanessa flicked Jenny playfully on the forehead and then pulled her sleeve, leading her towards the door.
“Have a good time, girls.” Mrs. Haunter called after them.
“Bye, Mom!” Vanessa waved until they reached the bottom of the driveway. “Oh, I’m so excited! Let’s go before all the good candy’s gone.” Vanessa dragged Jenny towards the neighbor’s house. “Come on!” She giggled. Vanessa had been looking forward to this night all week. She had even practiced saying “Tick-or-Treat” into the mirror and with Jenny to see which way sounded the cutest and would get her the most candy.
“Vanessa! Calm down! Man, you act like you’ve never had a Halloween before!” Jenny chided. “Just chill, would you?”
“I haven’t celebrated Halloween before! How can you expect me to chill?”
“All right, I get it. Let’s get going…”
“Yay!” Vanessa nearly jumped up and down out of pure excitement.
Chapter 7
“I’ll give you two 3 Musketeers bars for five caramel Hersheys,” Jenny bargained later that night.
“Add a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup and it’s a deal.”
The girls had emptied their candy bags onto two large heaps on Jenny’s bed. So far, Vanessa had the largest stash of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups and 3 Musketeers, while Jenny had a vast collection of m&ms and Kit Kats. They had pooled their Hershey Kisses together for a total of 28 candies and then divided them down the middle. Actually, there had been 29 candies but Jenny had eaten one secretly, which she thought was only fair considering now they were even. Sort of.
“You know what?” Jenny said thoughtfully while struggling with an m&m’s candy wrapper.
“What?” Vanessa asked, opening the candy easily with her wand.
“This has been the best Halloween ever. And you know why?”
“Why?” Vanessa stole an m&m from Jenny’s bag. “That was for eating my Hershey Kiss,” she teased.
“Hey!” Jenny took an empty foil wrapper from the pile on her bedside table and flicked it at Vanessa. “It was the best Halloween ever, because I have the best friend ever.”
“You really mean that Jen?”
“Of course I do!” Jenny reached across the piles of candy and pulled Vanessa into a hug. (She was also reaching for one of Vanessa’s candies, but she thought it would ruin the moment if she said so.)
“I saw that you know.” Vanessa smirked as Jenny popped the stolen candy into her mouth.
“I know. But that’s what friends are for, right?”
“Right. Exactly right.” |
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Posted: Thu Jul 03, 2008 9:07 am
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Rawr. Another long post. I don't even remember writing this one, but I do remember my inspiration...I live in Southern California between the mountains and the beach. So every time we drive in the canyon I have my very favorite mountain to look at. As far as I can remember I always thought it seemed so...magical. So this story was inspired by the mountain. I love my idea for it and promise to finish it later! It hasn't gotten to any of the action yet but it will, trust me....
Idea: (a little of it, I didn't have much time to type so there's obviously a lot more to the plot) There’s a girl living in th 20th century. Her mother has grown old and blind with lonliness. one day while walking through an orchard she meets a boy (nymph? fae?) who tries to persuade her to “step through the stone” and join him away from all of her worries. The girl who is deeply depressed pushes him away. before he parts he gifts her with a peculiar looking stone…(oh and sorry for the typos! i never had enough time to spell-checking everything and I was typing fast... o__O )
(c) 5-27-?? QE3
Anna lost her footing on a small, grey, stone; etched and weathered from the water that had flowed across her family’s woods long ago. She tumbled into the river bed that, like the very fire that fueled her soul, had dried up long ago. She watered the ground with her tears, before picking up her skirts and running blindly into the woods yet again.
She slowed; found herself winding down the wide path to the orchard. A path that on sunny days, she and her father would travel. Sometimes making the long journey on foot, walking hand in hand towards the rising sun, tanning their shoulders and warming their faces. Often times, they would ride their horses to the orchard. Racing and jumping logs in the forest. Anna felt she could still see the hoof prints, longed for the voice of her father----the smell of the ocean and the saltiness of her tears mingled and she rushed to the orchard, to Grandfather.
Grandfather stood old and worn, his branches gnarled and torn as they were seemed to bend and reach for her as if pulling her into a hug as she approached. She sat at his base, burying her heavy head in her skinny arms. Anna could have sworn that the old tree’s heart was beating in harmony with her own. Their breath strained and shaky; from tears and old age. The Grandfather had been around for three generations. Her grandfather had planted it nearly a 100 years before, and from that single apple seed had spawned the entire orchard. Still, as old as the Grandfather was, his apples were still the healthiest, most colorful in all the orchard. They were also the most special. Whether the tree was old and confused or whether he contained some kind of magic, they could be in the middle of a cold spell, a frosty winters night, and Anna would wake up to a new crop of apples, healthy and alive, the next morning.
As unpredictable as he was, the tree was one of the last things in her life that was steady. His apples, Gifts as Father had called them, never failed to turn up at one point or another. He was always close to home, and even closer to her heart. It wasn’t like he could just pick up his roots and walk out of her life like so many of the ones she loved had.
As an only child, her father had been her best friend growing up. He was young and handsome, with a kind voice, a hearty laugh, and a growing appetite for fun. Living in the canyons as they did, the family didn’t have many neighbors, which meant not many playmates her own age for Anna. But her father truly was a kid at heart and he was the best friend she had ever had. Until the summer she was nine, the two had been inseperable. They shared a bond so strong, to which noneother could come close to in compare. The two loved to go exploring in the woods, pretending he was Lewis or Clark, and she was the beautiful Poccahontas. They often spent long days at the beach or hiking to the top of the mountain. A secret ledge from which you could see the entire canyon and well out in the west to the ocean and beyond and in the east to a small town. Looking down they could see their small, humble house. They would sometimes carefully dangle their feet over the edge. “Just don’t fall,” her father would say, “If you do, as much as it breaks my heart I can’t catch you.” That was the one thing that irked her about her father, as close to her as he was, as much as she loved him, he was only human. And she felt a special singing in her, a calling for the unnatural and unexplainable. The two things her father was afraid of, and couldn’t give her.
The summer she was nine her father went looking for a new kind of adventure, he went to join the military, against Anna and her mother’s strained protests. He was a man of determination though, and they could not change him, hard as they tried. His leaving tore the family to shreds.
Anna’s mother and father had met when they were fifteen, and been madly in love from the start. They had both come from broken, unhappy families. Unwilling to be caged birds any longer, the young couple moved away from the town where their families had lived for nearly six generations and built a little house in the canyons. The house sat on William’s father’s land. Though in truth, Annas grandfather had not visited the land since planting the apple trees as a boy, 100 years ago. The house was finished the year Melinda turned 17. Built by William from the ground up, the house had two bedrooms, a kitchen, sitting room, and small parlor. For a while, only one of the bedrooms was used. Then, not a year after the couple finished their house, Melinda found she was with child. Nine months later, Anna was born. Melinda, who had been nearly as adventurous as her husband was, settled into a more conservative lifestyle with the birth of her daughter. She became a poet and a painter, teaching her daughter to enjoy the beauty and quiet of their woods. William on the other hand, sought adventure, and purposely made all the noise he could when tending their garden, or the orchard, or simply on a walk. While Melinda perfered to sit quietly, William loved to go traipsing through the woods, collecting frogs and snakes and causing havoc. When he decided he was tiring of the quiet life, he went to town looking for a new adventure.
Anna and her mother had been catching fireflys out back, and the porch was covered in them. Two or three in a little glass jar adorned the yard every foot or so, along the ground, and settled on tree branches. Anna ran to him, excited to show him her new friends. mother ran to, asking him where he had been and showing him the painting she was working on of Anna. He hugged them both, but it was a stiff hug because of the funny garments he was wearing. There was a long sleeved shirt and trousers as many would wear. The fabric though was stiff and strong, and the dark green jacket held fast to her father’s chest and arms. Along his shoulders were funny little pads, and from them dangles golden tassels. Along the front of his jacket had been sewn several large brass buttons. He held himself high and spoke importantly. Anna giggled at how grown up her father sounded. He ushered her and her mother to the porch. Anna sat obediently, fidgeting with a dandelion stem while he spoke with her mother. She stood just as stiffly as he, and stared hard into his eyes. His loud, important voice crescendoed to a whisper. His eyes seemed sad, though his whisper was strong. He talked for a minute, and Mother listenened. He paused. Apologized. Mother doubled back into her painting chair. He took her hand and talked a little more. He motioned to Anna to sit on his knee. He told her he was going to play a new game now. But this one she was not allowed to join. He was protecting her, he said. As this was a game no one should ever be forced to play. Anna laughed, at the thought of a game that was no fun to play. Her mother only cried. Anna was nine at the time and didn’t understand why her father was acting the way he was. He kept apologizing to Anna and her mother, but he said he felt he was doing what was best for the family. He cried a little too.
Later that night, Anna lay awake. She had released all the fireflys but one from their glass cocoons. The last of her new friends buzzed happily in his jar on Annas bedside table. It was late, the summertime sun had gone to sleep nearly three hours ago, but Anna was far from tired.
She could hear her parents fighting from the other room. She heard them make up, and heard them fight and cry again. Anna was confused. Was Mother upset that father had bought new clothes? It was true she often fashioned clothes for the family, but she never seemed to fancy the chore. Perhaps it was the money, had the clothes been expensive? Maybe she was embarrassed for Father, he did look rather ridiculous. Anna laughed to herself.
her mother cam and sat on the side of her bed. She stroked Anna’s hair and |
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Posted: Thu Jul 03, 2008 9:13 am
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One last thing I just found on my computer. I was ten when I wrote this. (Ignore the Fall Out Boy mention by the way. I don't exactly like them and I never really did....I'm not sure why this was in the story.) Gosh! Why do I have so much old stuff? I need to do some spring cleaning...I'm constantly writing and it all piles up! The newer stuff (from the past three years or so) is stored on a bunch of CDs. I'll have to find them before I can post. I'll look today. Again, sorry for all the outdated stories!
Farm Girl Zine
Stories from the Maple Tree
My name is Patrik O’Harris, I’m fourteen years old and I live in Michigan, about 12 miles west of Saline. There, my parents and older brother enjoy the chaotic life of raising livestock, their award winning pumpkin patch, apple orchard, and the five acre ocean of sunflowers they grow as the main attraction in their small florists shop. I on the other hand take pride in much simpler pleasures: my zine, the big maple tree out front, and Sally Mae, the runt of the litter of pigs who I raised all on my own. It is from her that I get my inspiration, as I write you these letters, sitting in the big maple tree out front, enjoying the quiet serenity of my zine writing.
For the purposes of my zine, I think you should know that I don’t go by Patrik but by Patty. Sally Mae helps me with my writing a lot too, so I decided to include her name in my pseudonym (pen name) therefore creating the name: Patty and Maexxx
As it would probably surprise you to know, I write all this on a typewriter, not a computer as some would assume. I could have a computer, I have a television set, but my parents (and I for that matter) feel that we don’t need tehnolodgy to get by. We have eachother, and our beautifu house, and I have Sally Mae.
It’s not that we’re poor either, we make a lovely sum of money for all that we do, we just don’t feel the need to spend it on computers or cellular phones or fancy cameras. We spend our money on our pigs, or cattle dogs, or on seeds for our orchard. And then we always have some set aside for Christmas Day, and Thanksgiving. Those are our rule-breaker days. On those days we can have anything we want. Take if you will, my television set for example. When do you think I came across her?
Then there’s our feasts. Since we grow our own foods (as I mentioned before we have livestock, apples, and pumpkins, but there’s also, grapes for wine, and wheat for bread, Mama’s vegetable garden, Pa’s chickens, and my Brother, Jimmy’s fishin’ pond.) As you can see we have more than enough food, that’s why we take the majority of it to town and sell it to others who are less fortunate or otherwise too lazy to grow their own. Of course we always save plenty for ourselves, but a little too often the townsfolk get the sweeter batch of apples, or the plumper pumpkin.
But it’s all different on our Celebration Days. For weeks ahead of time my Pa and Jimmy work harder than ever to make sure we have enough food for our feasts and for the town’s. Even I get pulled into the mess. (Not that I don’t help already, of course I do, but this is different.) There’s hundreds of pies to be baked, juices and ciders to be prepared, steaming hot turkeys arriving out of the oven every hour of the day. And oh, I just can’t wait! As Jimmy and I toss and turn in our beds at night the wind picks up the delicious beginnings of the feasts and we fall asleep to dreams of running along a grand gaint’s table like in Jack and the Bean Stalk. There’s so much food to taste and so little time before we wake up!
That’s another thing I love about my simple life: Jimmy. He’s two and 3/4 years older than myself, but he treats me equal. That’s the deal with us, we grew up together, went to school together, and we’ve always been best friends. We find joy in the simpleist things, running through the Sunflower Ocean, riding our horses through the vineyards, climbing the old windmill that sits at the edge of our property where it seems as if you can see the whole world layed out before you if you look from the tippy-top.
That’s on the sunny days. When it rains we have other things to do. We curl up by the fire, and read books or tell stories. Jimmy always has the best stories. I tell him he should make his own zine, but he always laughs and says, “Oh kiddo.” That’s the only time he ever acts the eldest, but I don’t mind.
He has the best stories because he’s been to town much more than I have. He’s seen the people, eaten at all the resturaunts, and even seen a movie or two at the theaters. Of course I’ve probably seen the same ones with my television, but Jimmy says the theater is even better.
My town is like the one is Gilmore Girls. Small, cozy, where everyone knows everyone else. My house is right outside the town. It’s big and grand and has many rooms because my Mama loves children. She and Pa met while they were young, then they had Jimmy and me and we grew up. But Jimmy and I’ve always loved the idea of a little sister or brother and Mama does too, so maybe it’ll happen.
Sometimes, when we’ve heard talk around the town that a child has been misbehavin’ or has run away, Mama will go and invite the child to stay with us for a while. And that child will always say yes, because everyone loves Mama. Though she is young and beautiful, she is also very wise. She is also perhaps the best cook in town. And she can solve problems. “That child may come to us a sour apple,” she says, “But he’ll leave here a perfect angel.”
My Pa is also very young and handsome. He has strong hands and a strong jawbone, but a gentle smile, and loving hug. He is a builder, and he fixes things around town. But what people don’t know is that he is a poet too.
He says that’s where I got my talent. He says I’ve been writing since I could hold a pencil, that’s why he encourages me to write this zine. And every few weeks he takes a couple in to town with him and comes back with the sweetest bundle of roses for me and tells me I’m a big hit with the townsfolk.
---Patty and Maexxx
❁
September 9, 2006-
This week we’ve been busy. School has started up and as we move up in the grades our papers seem to come rushing in even faster than before. I attend Saline Middle, and Jimmy attends Saline High. I wake up early in the mornings because I have to be at school by 7:40 am. Then the last bell rings at 2:33pm and I get to come home again. I have made friends at my school but I miss Jimmy. He goes to a school a little farther away but has the same hours as I do. For some reason though he keeps coming home later and later.
Patty and Maexxx---
September 11, 2006
A very sad day. I’d prefer not to write, but remember and pray.
(As a side note though, Jimmy’s been away all day again and I can’t help but wonder why.)
---Patty and Maexxx
September 14, 2006
I am not happy. I have been in a mood all day and it is not a good mood. Jimmy stayed out til nearly nine o’clock last night with a girl. Not just any girl but Rita Clark. She’s in my grade and goes to my school. We do not get along. She is rich because her grandfather was, I have money because I worked hard for it. She is popular because she is pretty, I am pretty too but no one would ever call me popular. She wears fancy designer names, has two computers, and three television sets. I have nice clothes but they are not designer, I have no computers and only one television set. She has friends, I had Jimmy. Had.
Patty and Maexxx---
September 15, 2006
I talked to Jimmy today, Mama talked to Jimmy today, Pa sat quietly and disappointedly on the couch. Jimmy has been neglecting his chores and sschool papers. He has been seeing this girl too often in my opinion, and “Needs to get his priorities straight” in Mamas. I simply cannot believe him.
---Patty and Maexxx
Setptember 15, 2006—later
Jimmy met me by the fishin’ pond today, I wrote down our converatsion. He didn’t notice.
Jimmy: Hey Patty.
I avoided him. I was writing a poem and frankly, I was very mad at him.
Jimmy: Listen, I know you’ve been upset with me lately and I just wanted to say, you have every right. I’ve been away too often, I haven’t been listening to you, I’ve been. . . preoccupied, to say the least.
Me: Uh, huh.
Jimmy: But you have to understand. She’s amazing, she’s beautiful, smart, nice, and she fell for a guy like me! Me!
Jimmy was practically jumping for joy in his skin right now. I glowered angrily at the pond.
Me: I can’t believe you Jimmy. One girl, who I’ve told you all about over the past few years, How I;ve despised her, how you’ve despised her and all it took was her batting thise eyelashes and you run off with her! Can’t you see what she’s doing to you? She made fun of us so many times, her father takes us for granted. Ecverytime Pa offers a favor he puts him to work like a mule. And Mama, the ridicule she’s been through from that family. All because they’re jealous! So they just get away with saying we’re only “stupid, dirty, farm people” and move on!
I was practically sobbing now. Jimmy looked as if he’d been slapped across the face.
Jimmy: But she’s so pretty. . .
Me: But Jimmy! She’s not! Her face may be but her heart is as cold and cruel as stone. And you just. . . leave us all for her.
Patty and Maexxx---
September 19, 2006
That was it. Jimmy moved out. I have no clue why but he did. He just left. Left for Rita and her stuck-up, high class, computer owning family. Pah! But who am I to judge? If that;s what makes him happy, it should make me happy for him. How bad have I been to him?
On the other hand, how bad has he been to us?
❁
Article I:
What to do if Your Older Brother Starts Dating a Girl Your Dislike
Let’s say that, hypothetically speaking of course, you have a brother. And one day, said brother starts to like a girl you know, and don’t love. Then, against every thought you’ve tried to put into his thick head this hypothetical brother runs off with said worst ememy-girl. What should you, hypothetically, do?
1) Stop using the word hypothetically. And don’t be ashamed! This happens to lots of very important, successful people. Or at least, one little farm girl from Michigan known as Patty and Maexxx. (a.k.a. the writer of this zine)
2) Try talking (and not yelling) to your brother. Tell him you’re hurt by his decision, but you respect him and know that (eventually) he’ll make the right choice. Hint strongly that the right choice is the one you were suggesting all along.
3) Talk to the girl he’s currently with. Who knows, you may find something you have in common (don’t count on it) and become friends (in your dreams!). But still, it’s worth a shot.
3) Let it go. If you really feel this strongly that they weren’t meant to be then they probably weren’t. Sit, back, and relax. Everything’ll be fine.
---Patty and Maexxx
I'm two quarters and a heart down
And I don't want to forget how your voice sounds
These words are all I have so I'll write them
So you need them just to get by
Dance, Dance
We're falling apart to half time
Dance, Dance
And these are the lives you'd love to live
Dance, this is the way they'd love
If they knew how misery loved me
---Fall Out Boy
Comments: Jimmy once got a discman for Christmas and whenever we went to town we’d buy all kinds of CDs, this was one of the first we bought…
The sun’s setting before the day has even began;
the scarecrow snoozing on the job;
and the sunflowers,
precious sunflowers have turned gray and cold
because the world is growing sad, and morning
the depth of your destruction.
Desertion.
Why?
---Patty and Maexxx
Coments: Written the day we got the letter from Jimmy saying he wasn’t coming home but rather running off with the she-witch.
I was at breakfast when it happened. Buttered toast, fresh strawberries, and a ham and tomato omelette. Pa came running into the kitchen where Ma stood fixing his coffee and for herself, a cup of strong tea. He handed the letter first to Mama. She stood wide-eyed with her hand over her mouth.
“What’s happened?” I asked, as horrible thoughts ran through my head. “Where’s Jimmy?” I whispered, more to myself than to Pa and Mama. They exchanged worried glanced, debating over showing me the letter. I stood up in my seat. “Where’s Jimmy?” I demanded, angry and afraid. Mama carefully handed over the letter. Pa gestured for her to join him out on the porch. Mama was holding back tears, I could tell. I held the letter stiffly in my hands. What was wrong? I asked myself, afraid to open the letter and find out.
When I did open it, it read:
Family.
Right away I hated that word. Well, the way it was used. Letters from Jimmy usually came addrerssed “My dearest family”, or “My loving family,” or, “to those whom I love with all my heart.” The single word “family” seemed so business-like and stiff.
Family,
In these past few weeks I have often thought about this, probably it will be the most important decision of my life. It brings me pain to say it,
No, Jimmy. If it brought you pain you wouldn’t have abandoned us. You wouldn’t have abandoned me.
but I fee it is time that I moved on with my life. My life, and Rita’s. I hope you know that we have been dating fr around a month and I cannot tell you o the joys she has brought to me. She is beautiful, smart, and oh so kind. Her parents too have been genr=erous to me in inviting me to stay in their guest house while plans are being made for our engagement.
At this point I dropped the paper right onto the floor. Engaged? Jimmy couldn’t be engaged! He was barely seventeen, and Rita, well. . . Now that I thought about it Rita wasn’t very smart, it was possible she could have been left-back in school. Yes, as I thought about it I did recall her being---18?? Rita was left back three years at least and here Jimmy was practically bragging about how smart she was. An older woman ina younger grade? The thought almost struck me as funny. Almost. I was more, at thius point annoyed. I picked up the letter off the floor.
My dearet, beautiful Rita will soon be 18 as will I. And as I hope you all are not too stupid enough to notice, we will then be aged enough to wed. The though! Me, married to Rita Clark! Excuse me dearly, I meant Rita O’Harris. Anyways, I must say I was discusted with your previous behavior but feel the need to give you all a second chance. Rita dearest and I would love to invite you a splendid brunch this coming Saturday. Please bring the child, Rita tells me they are precious friends.
Sincerely,
James O’Harris
Dearest Rita? Bring the child? Precious friends? Big, angry tears welled up in my eyes. Since when was he “Mr. Proper”? His snotty accent made me sick. And James O’Harris? That wasn’t even his name! His name was Jimmy. That’s what it said on his birth certificate, his license, that’s who he was in our hearts. So who was James? Some snotty, too good for us person about to be married, move out, and forget about us all, that’s who.
Well two could play at that game. I’d jut have to forget about him first.
The only prolem is I didn’t think I could do that. . .
---Patty and Maexxx
❁
Brunch. A snotty time for rich people to get together and make fun of the rest of us during breakfast and lunch. A time for low-carb foods and zero-calorie snacks. Oh, joy.
“Patty, darling!” Rita exclaimed, opening the heavy oak doors the second I had rung the doorbell. “Kiss, kiss!” She chortled, pecking me on each cheek. I flinched only slightly, and managed to continue glaring at her. “Why, oh my.” She looked me thuroghly up and down. “What are you wearing, dear?”
I couldn’t help but look down at myself. I had on a faded pair of purple Old Navy cordoroy jeans, a plain white tank top and crocheted scarf around my neck. I didn’t know what you wore to brunch so I put on something comfortable, is that a crime? I shrugged.
“Oh, well, not to worry. You look fab in anything dear.” She smiled a fake, and disitinctly I’m-better-than-you smile and waved me inside with her hand.
Apparantly rich people didn’t eat breakfast or lunch but combined the two into brunch to cut down on the amount of food they had consume but still left thejm feeling full (“Yet not bloated, so we can still keep our perfect figures.”) There was more but I was so incredibly bored throughout Rita;s speech eventually I just stopped paying attention. I seemed to grasp the main point though: Rita and her rich/perfect family don’t eat so they can maintain their expensive/perfect figures. Even Jimmy refused the last sour dough roll when I passed him the basket! I also heard him telling Pa that instead of doing work around town and on the farm like (I cannot stand him!) “commoners”, he’s now going to the gym four times a week.
I was caught in a spider web of such deep loathing and hurt that I didn’t notice when a small girl, around the age of twelve, maybe thirteen, strode into the room. She she had been doing a good job of making herself scarcely heard or seen until a little ecough, either purposely or not, escaped her throat. Rita looked up, dramatically rolling her eyes. Then she stood up with a smile so big and bright I’d wondered what it was rich people really ate at brunch: Stars? Rita certainly hadn’t touched her food and she had such a large mouth and horesy laugh that for all I know she could have been sucking then out of the sky every time she spoke!
“Casandra, precious! Where have you been? Wouldn’t you like to meet our,” she looked at me and moved her tongue over her teeth as if she had the point of one of the stars she’d eaten still stuck in her mouth. “Our wonderful. . . friends. Jimmy’s family!” she announced, grasping the girl’s shoulders and steering her into the chair across from mine.
“Hello,” I reched out my hand kindly, willing her to shake it. (Or was she one of those “Kiss, kiss!” people?) “My name’s Patrik, I’m Jimmy’s sister.” I pointed down the table at my brother. Then I blushed, of course she already knew who Jimmy was! “You can call me Patty if you’d like.” I offered when she didn‘t respond.
She shook my hand gingerly, “Thank you, Patty. You may call me, Cassie.” Her voice like her hand shake, was gentle and even a little tired, sad.
I wasn’t one of the girls at school who’d just stand around and look people up and down all day critising your outfit or “last month’s shoes” but with Cassie I couldn’t help it. She was dressed proudly, like Rita, but there was something much sweeter about her. Where Rita took too much time getting dressed everyday, Cassie seemed to just put on whatever was in her closet. (Which just happened to be nice.) Rita had thin hair and a bad perm where Cassie had thick hair and long, beautiful curls. Cassie had a very nice smile, and gentle smile lines, Rita had none of the above. Her smile was an I’m-trying-too-hard smile and she had harsh frown lines around the corners of her mouth and the crease between her perfect brows. Both girls were blond, and their eyes were set close together, but somehow both features looked better on Cassie.
Cassie must have seen me looking at her because she responed as if she’d been slapped, “My sister’s the pretty one!”
“What?” I sputtered. Cassie blushed.
“Would you mind coming outside with me?” We already were outside but I didn’t feel like arguing. I nodded, but raised my eyebrow as if to ask, Won’t they noice?
Cassie shook her head, took my hand and led me silently back into the main brunch room, out into the hall, and down a large flight of stairs that I guessed led to the kitchens. She continued to lead me farther and farther away from our families. Outside and towards a tall maple tree, much like my own boardering the edge of the woods.
I expertly swung myself up onto the nearest branch and dangled my feet. Cassie did the same. For the first time I realized that under her crisp, fancy skirt, she had on a pair of faded jeans.
Cassie laughed, shedding her skirt and showing off the jeans in their full glory. She had a nice laugh.
“I’m not like the rest of them,” she said, closing her eyes and leaning her head back on the trunk of the tree. “And you aren’t either. I knew that from the minute I saw you. Rita talks about you, you know. She is jealous, oh yeah!” I liked listening to her talk. Cassie turned towards me her eyes wide and searching. “You know what I want? To be away from all this. To be able to eat what I want, when I want it. To be able to do what I want whenever I want to do it!” she sighed longingly, “But with a life like this. Real happiness, real fun, it doesn’t come cheap.”
“I hate to break it to you Cassie, but nothing in your world comes cheap.” I hated the words the moment I’d spoken them, I’d never meant to insult Cassie. Did I? Would she hate me now?
No, Cassie only laughed. “You’re funny Patty. I like you.” She had her eyes closed again and her head leaned back. I ould see her fighting off a smile. “So tell me, what is there to do for fun at your place?”
So I told her. About my zine, Sally Mae, and the endless sunflowers. And even though it wasn’t caviar and fancy brunches, Cassie seemed really interested. She even asked if she could come over and see one of my zines. I told her yes, and “Cassie, I’ll even put you in one of zines if you want!” At this Cassie was really excited. She promised to come over around dinner time tomorrow.
As I left her house later that day, I couldn’t help but think, Cassie and I could be real good friends.
And you know what, I think we will be.
--- Patty and Maexxx |
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PandaEnlightenment Captain
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Posted: Thu Jul 03, 2008 11:49 am
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Posted: Thu Jul 03, 2008 1:52 pm
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PandaEnlightenment Captain
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Posted: Thu Jul 03, 2008 2:16 pm
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Posted: Thu Jul 03, 2008 2:34 pm
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PandaEnlightenment Captain
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Posted: Thu Jul 03, 2008 3:33 pm
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Posted: Thu Jul 03, 2008 3:36 pm
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PandaEnlightenment Captain
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Posted: Thu Jul 03, 2008 3:45 pm
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Posted: Thu Jul 03, 2008 4:33 pm
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PandaEnlightenment Captain
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Posted: Thu Jul 03, 2008 6:26 pm
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Posted: Thu Jul 03, 2008 7:22 pm
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PandaEnlightenment Captain
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Posted: Fri Jul 04, 2008 10:19 am
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