No clue where this came from...
Jun. 22nd, 2004 08:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sorcyressThis is just an odd peice of literature I wrote for no real reason. Comments/Critisizm would be really helpful, although not madatory.
Like I said, I have no clue where this came from. It's just a weird little story I wrote. It doesn't flow well, it has odd charecters, it's on a subject I know little about...
No clue. Enjoy!
I walked into Jess's house slowly. I hadn't seen her for at least a year, and I wanted to talk for once to my once best friend.
"YOU!"
"Me." I stood stoically, matching her angry gaze. She had a right to be mad at me-in a way. I HAD only left her, when she had started to push me away. When she had started to become independent of me. Doing her own thing. Without me.
"You left me!"
"I did." She sounded so indignent about that fact. Like it had been bad. Like she hadn't WANTED me to leave. If she didn't, why did she do so much to insure that I did?
"YOU LEFT ME ALONE! ALONE! With all the idiots!"
"You're a big girl. You can take care of yourself, can't you?" I was being harsh, I know, but she irritated me. She had started irritating me a long time ago, when we first started high school. I had grown into a geek, a weirdo, someone who truly didn't care about their looks. She had grown into...a slut.
"YOU WERE MY BEST FRIEND!"
"I was." I was still willing to offer friendship if she'd take it, but she had left me behind. When she started hanging out with a different crowd, she had dissaded me from joining them. They all had. They were the "cool" kids.
She turned away from me, standing silloetted in the window frame. Her sholders shook silently, she was crying. I walked over and put a hand on her sholder gently. she turned her head to face me, slowly. She looked a wreck, her make-up was a mess, and her hair looked as though it hadn't been combed for days.
"I'm pregnent." The two words hung in the air, her words, not mine. I froze. What else could I do. We were 16. She was pregnent, I still hadn't been kissed. All the differences between the two of us managed to flit through my mind in that pause, all the many, many differences.
I turned and wound my arms around her, hugging her like I always used to do, used to do whenever she broke up with an old boyfriend, or had a spat with a new. Only this was different. Much worse.
I tried to think of something to say, something to use to comfert her. But I couldn't. There were no words to describe the situation. We just hugged, standing there infront of the big window in the living room, sillohetted against the sinking sun.
***
I sighed and gazed out the window, one hand propping up my chin, the other holding a mug of hot coffee. I was sitting on the couch, thinking of memories 16 years past. Just then, Elizabeth walked in.
"Mom, I want to talk to you." She sat on the couch next to me, looking dead serious, her pretty grey eyes showing none of their usual mischeif. She was pretty, she looked just like her mother. Just like Jess.
"Yes dear?" I set the coffee mug down on the end table, right next to my sketchbook and the books I was currently reading.
"Well...it's about me..." she looked slightly nervous, as if she didn't know what to say. "I...Am I adopted?" she finally blurted out, her greyish eyes meeting my green-brown ones. "I mean, You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but I'm like, eight years older then Ali, and ten years older then Zan, and thats a lot, and well, they're both still really young but you can tell that they both look a lot like you and Dad put together, dark hair, wavy hair, dark eyes...and I don't look like that. Plus, you're REALLY young, you're only 32." She played with the ends of her straight blonde hair nervously.
"And I went and thought it through, and I know I can deal with either answer, and I know I want to KNOW the answer, it's just that I really need to know this. Oh, and don't think that it's because I want to go hang out with my "real" mom or anything like that, you're my real mom, and always will be, it's just that..."
"You need to know?" I finished the sentance for her, looking away quietly. She had her mothers eyes. Only this time, unlike the last time I looked that deeply into them, I couldn't hold the gaze.
"Yes." I finally said after a long pause. "Yes you are adopted. You're mother was one of my best friends in middle school. In high school however, she began to stray. She hung out with new and different people, as did I. The problem was, she hung out with the wrong crowd."
"The last time I saw her, she gave birth to you, and just stared at you. I was there as support, none of her other "friends" came. She was in good shape, you were an easy child to deliver, although you were a month premature. She held you in her arms for no more then a minute before she shoved you into mine, got up, got dressed, and left. Right before she went out the door, she looked straight at me and said "You take her. I don't want her." Then she left. Moved halfway across the country. I never saw her again, not in person."
"The first thing I did was call my mother. She showed up fast and we talked for a good hour about what to do. I didn't want to give you up. But I couldn't keep you either. I'm dammed lucky about what happened. "
"Me and mom decided to keep you. We got a lawyer, and hashed it all out. Both your birth mom and dad, wherever they are, have been paying 800$ a month each for child support. I haven't made any sort of contact with either of them for 12 years now. You're mine."
El nodded slowly, my words sinking in. She looked sad, not as sad as I expected, but sad. "How old was she? How old were you?"
"We were both 16. John was 19. Thats when I *really* started to fall in love with him. Or at least, thats when I figured out that I loved him. He took care of you a lot. Which was impressive, considering he was in collage, and nearly as busy as I was. We've both managed to complete collage, belive it or not. Lots of day-cares. You didn't hang out with me much until you were five or six. I had you in the care of others for most of that time. We got married the year I graduated collage. You were five. We didn't have any kids of our own for a few years after that though." I sighed and stared into my cup, watching the liquid gently ripple, not wanting to face those sad grey eyes, the ones that had a feeling of anger about them, but mostly just incredible sadness.
"Oh." That was all El said. She needed to think, I could tell. She was so like me. Quiet, odd, and very very slow in reacting to things. Jess had been different. Jess had always been the normal one, loud and impulsive, and with a maddening interest in boys, even when we were in sixth and seventh grade. I didn't even start to notice boys until high school, and even then I noticed girls almost as much.
"I'll leave you be for now dear." She nodded slowly, and I got up and started to leave. As I was in the doorframe, she inturrupted my movement with a sudden question.
"Can I meet her? My mom?" I nodded and turned away, turned to keep her from seeing the tears that even now were sliding unbidden down my face.
***
I nervously rang the bell of the scarily large house that I had been directed to as Jess's. It was a very nice house, with pretty flowers along the walk and freshly trimmed hedges. I was surprisingly nervous for this, I was usually more in control of things. Me and El stood their quietly, each waiting for the door to open, her with a combination of fear and excitement, me with nervous dread.
The door opened and a very pretty young women with hair down to her waist and grey eyes that matched "my" daughters opened the door. Her eyes met Elizabeths first. They just stared at each other for a moment, silently communicating in a way only true mothers and daughters could.
She finally broke the contact, her eyes sliding over to me. "Ma-Malissa?" she stammered, her confused eyes meeting my calm ones.
"Yes." I said quietly. "And this is Elizabeth. Your daughter." I put no emphisis on the word, I didn't feel I needed to.
"Oh my God..." The words were very soft, under her breath. She just stared at El again, until finally she banaged to regain her composure. Or some of it anyway.
"Would you like to come in for a cup of tea? Or, coffee, if thats still what you prefer." She said, flustered. I grinned. She had even remembered my bizzare love of coffee.
"We'ed love to."
And so we did. We shared our life stories over tea and coffee, me and her and Elizabeth. She had somehow managed to completely stabalize her life after she moved, and she had finally managed to find someone who truly loved her. Her wifes name was Anna, she introduced herself to us. They had had two children "together" each one of them had gotten themselves pregnent by male friends of theirs. Their daughter was just the same age as Ali, and their son was a year younger then Zan.
It hurt to see how she had turned out. She was still very normal, I could tell she was wearing make-up, and she was wearing nice clothes like she did it every day. But she was scarred. I had a feeling that I shouldn't have brought El to meet her, if only to quell the rising jealousy inside me to see them chattering happily. We agreed to visit again later, it turned out they didn't live far from us. We finally left. The car ride home was filled with Els chattering about how fun it had been and how glad she was that her real mom was nice. We turned into the driveway with the sun setting behind us, my old red VW bug sliding into the garage as it had every day for the last 10 years.
"Mom." she said as we got out of the car. "I'm really glad I'm *YOUR* daughter."
"Me too, babe." I replied, my fears of her liking Jess more melting away, "Me too."
Fin
Original Tags: stories, writings, cloneconvo-fin
Like I said, I have no clue where this came from. It's just a weird little story I wrote. It doesn't flow well, it has odd charecters, it's on a subject I know little about...
No clue. Enjoy!
I walked into Jess's house slowly. I hadn't seen her for at least a year, and I wanted to talk for once to my once best friend.
"YOU!"
"Me." I stood stoically, matching her angry gaze. She had a right to be mad at me-in a way. I HAD only left her, when she had started to push me away. When she had started to become independent of me. Doing her own thing. Without me.
"You left me!"
"I did." She sounded so indignent about that fact. Like it had been bad. Like she hadn't WANTED me to leave. If she didn't, why did she do so much to insure that I did?
"YOU LEFT ME ALONE! ALONE! With all the idiots!"
"You're a big girl. You can take care of yourself, can't you?" I was being harsh, I know, but she irritated me. She had started irritating me a long time ago, when we first started high school. I had grown into a geek, a weirdo, someone who truly didn't care about their looks. She had grown into...a slut.
"YOU WERE MY BEST FRIEND!"
"I was." I was still willing to offer friendship if she'd take it, but she had left me behind. When she started hanging out with a different crowd, she had dissaded me from joining them. They all had. They were the "cool" kids.
She turned away from me, standing silloetted in the window frame. Her sholders shook silently, she was crying. I walked over and put a hand on her sholder gently. she turned her head to face me, slowly. She looked a wreck, her make-up was a mess, and her hair looked as though it hadn't been combed for days.
"I'm pregnent." The two words hung in the air, her words, not mine. I froze. What else could I do. We were 16. She was pregnent, I still hadn't been kissed. All the differences between the two of us managed to flit through my mind in that pause, all the many, many differences.
I turned and wound my arms around her, hugging her like I always used to do, used to do whenever she broke up with an old boyfriend, or had a spat with a new. Only this was different. Much worse.
I tried to think of something to say, something to use to comfert her. But I couldn't. There were no words to describe the situation. We just hugged, standing there infront of the big window in the living room, sillohetted against the sinking sun.
***
I sighed and gazed out the window, one hand propping up my chin, the other holding a mug of hot coffee. I was sitting on the couch, thinking of memories 16 years past. Just then, Elizabeth walked in.
"Mom, I want to talk to you." She sat on the couch next to me, looking dead serious, her pretty grey eyes showing none of their usual mischeif. She was pretty, she looked just like her mother. Just like Jess.
"Yes dear?" I set the coffee mug down on the end table, right next to my sketchbook and the books I was currently reading.
"Well...it's about me..." she looked slightly nervous, as if she didn't know what to say. "I...Am I adopted?" she finally blurted out, her greyish eyes meeting my green-brown ones. "I mean, You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but I'm like, eight years older then Ali, and ten years older then Zan, and thats a lot, and well, they're both still really young but you can tell that they both look a lot like you and Dad put together, dark hair, wavy hair, dark eyes...and I don't look like that. Plus, you're REALLY young, you're only 32." She played with the ends of her straight blonde hair nervously.
"And I went and thought it through, and I know I can deal with either answer, and I know I want to KNOW the answer, it's just that I really need to know this. Oh, and don't think that it's because I want to go hang out with my "real" mom or anything like that, you're my real mom, and always will be, it's just that..."
"You need to know?" I finished the sentance for her, looking away quietly. She had her mothers eyes. Only this time, unlike the last time I looked that deeply into them, I couldn't hold the gaze.
"Yes." I finally said after a long pause. "Yes you are adopted. You're mother was one of my best friends in middle school. In high school however, she began to stray. She hung out with new and different people, as did I. The problem was, she hung out with the wrong crowd."
"The last time I saw her, she gave birth to you, and just stared at you. I was there as support, none of her other "friends" came. She was in good shape, you were an easy child to deliver, although you were a month premature. She held you in her arms for no more then a minute before she shoved you into mine, got up, got dressed, and left. Right before she went out the door, she looked straight at me and said "You take her. I don't want her." Then she left. Moved halfway across the country. I never saw her again, not in person."
"The first thing I did was call my mother. She showed up fast and we talked for a good hour about what to do. I didn't want to give you up. But I couldn't keep you either. I'm dammed lucky about what happened. "
"Me and mom decided to keep you. We got a lawyer, and hashed it all out. Both your birth mom and dad, wherever they are, have been paying 800$ a month each for child support. I haven't made any sort of contact with either of them for 12 years now. You're mine."
El nodded slowly, my words sinking in. She looked sad, not as sad as I expected, but sad. "How old was she? How old were you?"
"We were both 16. John was 19. Thats when I *really* started to fall in love with him. Or at least, thats when I figured out that I loved him. He took care of you a lot. Which was impressive, considering he was in collage, and nearly as busy as I was. We've both managed to complete collage, belive it or not. Lots of day-cares. You didn't hang out with me much until you were five or six. I had you in the care of others for most of that time. We got married the year I graduated collage. You were five. We didn't have any kids of our own for a few years after that though." I sighed and stared into my cup, watching the liquid gently ripple, not wanting to face those sad grey eyes, the ones that had a feeling of anger about them, but mostly just incredible sadness.
"Oh." That was all El said. She needed to think, I could tell. She was so like me. Quiet, odd, and very very slow in reacting to things. Jess had been different. Jess had always been the normal one, loud and impulsive, and with a maddening interest in boys, even when we were in sixth and seventh grade. I didn't even start to notice boys until high school, and even then I noticed girls almost as much.
"I'll leave you be for now dear." She nodded slowly, and I got up and started to leave. As I was in the doorframe, she inturrupted my movement with a sudden question.
"Can I meet her? My mom?" I nodded and turned away, turned to keep her from seeing the tears that even now were sliding unbidden down my face.
***
I nervously rang the bell of the scarily large house that I had been directed to as Jess's. It was a very nice house, with pretty flowers along the walk and freshly trimmed hedges. I was surprisingly nervous for this, I was usually more in control of things. Me and El stood their quietly, each waiting for the door to open, her with a combination of fear and excitement, me with nervous dread.
The door opened and a very pretty young women with hair down to her waist and grey eyes that matched "my" daughters opened the door. Her eyes met Elizabeths first. They just stared at each other for a moment, silently communicating in a way only true mothers and daughters could.
She finally broke the contact, her eyes sliding over to me. "Ma-Malissa?" she stammered, her confused eyes meeting my calm ones.
"Yes." I said quietly. "And this is Elizabeth. Your daughter." I put no emphisis on the word, I didn't feel I needed to.
"Oh my God..." The words were very soft, under her breath. She just stared at El again, until finally she banaged to regain her composure. Or some of it anyway.
"Would you like to come in for a cup of tea? Or, coffee, if thats still what you prefer." She said, flustered. I grinned. She had even remembered my bizzare love of coffee.
"We'ed love to."
And so we did. We shared our life stories over tea and coffee, me and her and Elizabeth. She had somehow managed to completely stabalize her life after she moved, and she had finally managed to find someone who truly loved her. Her wifes name was Anna, she introduced herself to us. They had had two children "together" each one of them had gotten themselves pregnent by male friends of theirs. Their daughter was just the same age as Ali, and their son was a year younger then Zan.
It hurt to see how she had turned out. She was still very normal, I could tell she was wearing make-up, and she was wearing nice clothes like she did it every day. But she was scarred. I had a feeling that I shouldn't have brought El to meet her, if only to quell the rising jealousy inside me to see them chattering happily. We agreed to visit again later, it turned out they didn't live far from us. We finally left. The car ride home was filled with Els chattering about how fun it had been and how glad she was that her real mom was nice. We turned into the driveway with the sun setting behind us, my old red VW bug sliding into the garage as it had every day for the last 10 years.
"Mom." she said as we got out of the car. "I'm really glad I'm *YOUR* daughter."
"Me too, babe." I replied, my fears of her liking Jess more melting away, "Me too."
Fin
Original Tags: stories, writings, cloneconvo-fin
