About the time I started writing in a diary. When I got home that night my mother surprised me by telling me Aunt Laurella had stopped by and dropped of an old book.
It was brown on the outside, and was made out of leather. My name was inscribed on the inside cover. And that made me happy. The pages had all faded to a dull yellow and I could tell that it was old. And that was OK with me because I liked old things.
I wrote in it about my crushes, my hopes, my fears, and all my dates with boys. [You’re fricken SEVEN!] It was a very private.
Also, the day after I got back from meeting Aunt Laurella, something happened to me.
It was recess, and I was sitting in the grass showing my ring to my best friend, Sarah.
Sarah Beth Fear [Told you this was a Fear Street fanfic.] wasn’t exactly rich, but she wasn’t all that poor, either. Sarah wasn’t exactly pretty. She wasn’t ugly either. [This story isn’t great. It’s not good either.] Sarah had long light blond hair, and dark brown eyes that never showed any emotion what-so-ever.
Sarah was seven--like me--and we were in the same class. Her family lived right next door to mine.
Sarah’s father was in the car selling business. He took old cars and restored them like new. Her mother on the other hand worked for a modeling agency. She wasn’t a model herself--she had tried to be but was too short--she was vice president off the agency. Julie Fear was pretty famous. [Because other models FEAR her. Yeah. I said it.]
Sarah’s family owned the south half of the town practically. The Fear’s owned Fear Street, The Simon Fear Mansion [Why haven’t they torn it down?], The Fear Street Woods, Fear Lake, Fear Island, and The Fear Street Cemetery. [Can city cemeteries be privately owned?] They owned a lot. Hell, they even owned our house.
For I lived at 97 Fear Street. [Next door to 99, the house of evil.] But they didn’t charge us any rent because Julie and my father had grown up together, and she and my mother were quite close. [I wish I had friends like that. ^_^]
Well anyways, Sarah and I wre sitting on the grass looking at the ring, when Xena Anderson [Who is actually still in the current day version of this story, and she’s still a bitch.] and her fan club--Mara Zuchensky, and Emily Morris--walked up and grabbed it out of my hand.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Xena?” I asked.
She held it up to her pale face with her left hand. “I thought you had better taste for jewelry than this, it ain’t even real silver.”
I jumped to my feet. “Give it back,” I demanded holding out my right hand.
“Oh, it’s sentimental value to you,” Xena said very melodramatically. “Why, Kelly, I didn’t believe that feelings existed to The Ice Princess.” She raised her right hand up to the small of her neck as she said this.
That’s also another thing about me, along with ’The Ice Princess,’ I had about half a dozen more stupid nicknames; Kelly K, Hold ‘em, Thrill ‘em, Kiss ‘em, Kill ‘em Coffield [Oh Lord did I actually take this from the song from Batman Forever?], The Megabtich, Kell Bell, Whore around Coffield [Well, from the sounds of her dates she kind of earned this one.], and Kell.
Xena was standing there so strongly, and confidently. Her long light blond hair flowing gently in the breeze. Her clear jade green eyes staring directly into my demonic once. So cruelly, as if challenging me to do something if I dared. But then something just went off.
I grabbed her pale skinny neck, pushed her down and banged her head into the ground. That stunned her. Then I grabbed the arm where she was holding my silver ring. I raised her wrist up to my mouth and bit her as hard as I could on her vain. [Is her ¾ demonic nature actually vamparic?]
The pale, blonde, and beautiful, Xena Anderson who I hated so that moment screamed all her bloody hearts content and dropped the ring. [Mission accomplished, or Nimnu kanryou as Heero would say.] Then Mara and Emily started screaming too, while as Sarah just stared. [She’s thinking about what a freak her best friend is.]
I picked up the ring and walked off licking the blood on my lips. I didn’t know why I licked the blood, I just did. But all too soon I heard Him again. [No, not God.]
“Very good, Kelika.”
I stopped. “Who are you?” I asked.
“I might as well introduce myself,” He said. “I am Kratine, of the ancient past.” [Those who get this win a picture of an apple!]
Quickly, before ‘Kratine,’ or whoever he was noticed, I turned back to see what was going on back at the playground. Xena was crying hysterically, and our second grade teacher was trying to get her to shut up. I saw all the kids in my class, along with other second grade classes were gathering around to watch. Among them I saw my sister, Laura, and her own best friend, Angela Goode. [I had to work one in somewhere.] But she wasn’t all that good. [Haha! Bad joke!] In my life, I did a lot to Angela. A lot of stuff that hurt her. Now that I think of it, I’m not sorry for any of it. [Since I never made it that far, I’ll go ahead and explain. Later when they’re in their twenties Kelly steels Angela’s husband.] And I just kept walking till I got home.
I was surprised to see my mother home. I wasn’t quite sure what she did for a living, but I knew it paid handsomely. But why we didn’t live in a better nationhood [Or pay their generous friends something], I found out alter in my life. [I don’t think she actually ever did.]
“Mother,” I said as I walked into the dining room. “What are you doing home?”
Mother was staring into the mirror right beside it on the wall. “Just thinking, Kelika.”
“About what?” I asked. I looked at my mothers reflection in the mirror. Her long blond hair was scraggly and unwashed. Her bangs hung in her face, and I saw tears in her cerelean blue eyes. I had never seem her cry before.
“My parent,” she said. Mother sighed and put her head in her hands. “I am weak,” she said forlornly.
“Because I’m crying.” She rose her head out of her hands and a wry smile crossed her beautiful pale face. “About my parents.” She looked at me. “Crying is a weakness, Kelika. Don’t ever do it. Especially not in front of anybody.” [Because repression is so healthy.] She turned away from me and looked back into the mirror.
“Mother,” I said.
“Things have been going on with me.”
“What kind of things?”
“Well, there’s this lizard, and--”
She cut me off. “Lizard? I think you’ve been spending too much time by yourself.”
“Yeah, maybe,” I looked up at her. “I know it sound crazy, but he’s really there. He made me do something today. He made me bite Xena Anderson’s wrist.”
She was just staring at me then, as if she was trying to project a part of herself into me. “Did this ‘Lizard,’ have a name, Kelika?”
“Yes,” I replied softly. “Kratine.”
She stared at me and her face when pale. Then she smacked me right across my face. “Never mention him to me, again,” she said through clenched teeth. Then she stood up and started to walk back to her room when she turned around to look at me. “Never!” she screamed.
I just sat there till the others got home.
“You wouldn’t know cool if it bit you on the ass,” I heard my brother Michael yelling from the front hall.
“I would so,” my sister Laura replied.
“You shouldn’t swear, Michael,” my sister Megan said that too him. Boy was she ever a goody-goody.
Jus then Jennifer came running in. “Guess what, Kelly?” [You’d think they’d be asking her what happened in school]
“What,” I said with no emotion.
“I’m getting skipped to the fourth grade.” She looked so happy. Her curly black pigtails bopping u and down.
“What” I was surprised. I knew Jen-Jen was smart, but I never guess that she would be skipped a grade.
“Well at least I actually have friends, Jennifer. I don’t go around acting like I’m better than God,” Michael said.
“Well you act like you’re better than shit.” [???]
“I am better than shit.”
“No you are not.” [This is the girl whose getting skipped a grade.]
“I am too.” [I grow weary of the siblings. They added nothing to the story, anyway. I don’t even know why they’re there. Or why so many. In later versions I got rid of Michael and Laura.]
This never ending battle between Michael and Jennifer was getting old and tiresome. “Will you both shut the hell up,” I said. They were both quiet and turned to look at me. “Jen-Jen, Michael is better than shit.” I said looking at her. Then I turned to look at Michael. “Michael, Jennifer does not think she’s better than shit. [I think you meant God, Kell.] Ok.” They didn’t answer. And Laura spoke.
“Why did you do it, Kell Bell?” she asked me, ger green eyes penetrating into mine.
“Huh? Do what?” Megan asked, her cerelean blue eyes wide with envy that Laura knew something she didn’t.
“Yeah, what did you do, Kelly?” Michael asked. “I heard rumors that you were a vampire, an tried to drink The Anderson Bitch’s blood.”
“It wasn’t like that,” Laura said. Sweet Laura. Always sticking up for me. Would she ever stop? [They were intended to have the Elizabeth-Jessica kind of relationship. Gag.]
“First of all, what did Kelly do?” Jen-Jen now had control of the group that was trying to figure out what I did, and I wasn’t even a part of it, when mother came out of her room. No one got to answer Jennifer’s question.
“What the hell are you kids doing home so early?” she said to the other four. But not to me. She knew why I came home. And no one answered her ridiculous question. “I’m going out of town for a little while. “It was then I noticed her suitcases behind her. Mother took out something from her pocket. “Here,” she said. It ws five bills of money. The first one to Jen-Jen. The second to Laura. The third to Megan. The fourth to Michael. And the last to me. I tooka look at it and was surprised to see a one hundred dollar bill.
“What’s this for?” I asked.
“I’ll be back in two weeks.” She went to get her bags when Jen-Jen stopped her. “What do you want, Jennifer?”
“I just wanted to tell you that I’m getting skipped to the fourth grade.”
“That’s great, Jen. Bye.” And she left. [I think Suzy pwns at bad parenting. And in case it wasn’t mentioned, Michael is the oldest at ten, Jennifer’s eight, the twins are seven, and Megan’s five.]
“I think she just wants to get away from us,” Megan said. “She doesn’t love us anymore.”
“I don’t think she ever did,” Michael chirped in.
“You’re such a downer, Michael,” Laura sad to him.
“No he’s not, he’s sexist,” Jen-Jen said.
“Will you all shut up. I’m getting really sick of your fighting.”
“Kelika,” Laura said sweetly. She was one of the few precious people whom I allowed to call me by my real name. I didn’t even look u at her as she said my name. I just got up and left the room.
After my mother got back, [What? Nothing about the two weeks she was gone? Nothing about how they didn’t have anything to eat and spent their money on the crap they didn’t get from their mother? Nothing at all?] she started making me see a psychiatrist. His name was Dr. Nesbit. He was old and had white hair. Dr. Nesbit fit the description of what most people think that a psychiatrist looks like. Child patients often have a choice to do something constructive when we were talking to the guy. [Not that I know from experience.] I myself was painting a picture.
“What do you think your problem is, Kelika.” [He fails as a psychiatrist.]
I wlake over to him confidently. “First thing’s first, ass hole. Don’t you ever call me Kelika again. I don’t like you, and I should hope you don’t like me. So I’ll call you Dr. Nesbit, and you sure as hell have better not call me Kelika.”
“Well then what would you like me to call you?”
“Alright Kelly. What do you think your problem is?”
“I ain’t got no problem.” I walked back over to the painting stand, and started painting a picture.
A little while later, Dr. Ass Hole--as I’d like to call him--came over to look at my painting.”
“Tha’s a very interesting painting, Kelly,” he said nervously. I could tell he was afraid of me. It was one of my powers. I could sense fear. I allways thought it was funny. Half the people I knew’s number one fear was me. Even Sarah and Kyle. I’ve explained Sarah, but not Kyle. My dear Kyle. He was my worst enemy for half my life, but not all of it.
“What is it, Kelly?”
He was looking at it to see if it had hidden meaning. If it was a metaphore. I often spoke in metaphores, but his was not one of those times. [I think I was confused about what a metaphor was.]
What Dr. Ass hole was looking at, a blond girl laying I a coffind, a man with black hair, and another woman with blond, staring down at the dead girl, it wasn’t exactly a metaphore, but it wasn’t necessarily far from the truth as well. Those two people staring down at the dead girl actually came to her funeral, 20 years into the future that is. [This is foreshadowing.]
“It’s me,” I said.
“Kelly, you don’t have blond hair, you have black.”
“I’m going to dye it in the future.”
“Well who are the other two?”
“The guys my husband.”
“And the other?”
After that I went home and never went back. [Well wasn’t that…pointless…]
My life went on somewhat normally for the next three years. Till I reached age 10. Fifth grade.
Kratine stopped speaking to me shortly after my visit with Dr. Ass Hole. He pretended to leave, and I believed it for a while.
When I was ten I met someone very vital in my life. She almost stole my votes for Miss Shadyside. Nearly stole my boyfriend. Tried to drive me insane.
She may have done a lot of horrible things to me, but I did worse to her, and a lot of other people.
Let’s just say that I don’t like to be ignored.
Monday, November 16, 2009
Terrible Tales of Horror: Any Way the Wind Blows... Part 2, because plagerism is fun!
Last time on Any Way the Wind Blows, we learned our heroine Kelly’s dad ditched her family when she was four, her mom has killed people and it’s possible Kelly has too, and her young looking geriatric aunt gave her an evil ring from Mars, which is causing her to hear a strange man‘s voice in her head. What can possibly happen next?