Original Stories Fan Fiction / Realism Fan Fiction ❯ The Message Cycle ❯ prelude: party lists are soooo over-rated ( Chapter 1 )

 

Name: The Message Cycle

Authoress: thesoulreader

Published: September 01, 2008

Genre(s): Romance/Drama/Angst/General/Comedy

Category: Miscellaneous

Series: Original Stories/Realism

Language: English

Fanfic Type: Continuation

Rating: Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for persons under the age of 17.

 

Overall Summary: 12 year old Emma has a really boring life: She lives in a boring town, she has a boring routine that she follows every morning, and her friends aren't exactly consistent when it comes to contacting her. But then 21-yr-old Leon comes and then Emma's life becomes a little more interesting. Emma and Leon become close overtime. They are tethered by the similarities of their pasts, their likes, their dislikes, and their undeniable strong attraction towards one another. However, when Emma uncovers a few new secrets about her newfound “friend” she is faced with more life-altering choices than she's willing to make.

 

 

Author's Notations: Hey all, this is my first full-length story on Media Miner so I'd really love it if you could give me some lengthy feedback and well-earned criticism.

 

Let's see, I'll start off by explaining the chapter length system. As of right now, the length of each chapter will be sporadic since each `chapter' is a diary entry for Emma. Also I'd like to point out that around 10-15 chapters will be assembled into a part of the story. The reason for this is because I'll be chronicling Emma's progress through life, so we'll be following her from when she's 12 `till when she's around 17 or 18 years old.

 

Also all of the run-on sentences, crude humor, and profanity is totally intentional.

 

With all of that said I hope you have fun reading this!

 

 

Prelude: party lists are sooo over-rated!

Mom wants me to make a list of things for my twelfth birthday party because she says that I'm never going to plan it if I don't. Mom's always right about that—I hate planning parties. If it were up to me I'd just invite 2 of my friends, 3 or 4 of my cousins, and maybe I'd invite my aunt. Then I'd get some hotdogs and burgers with ketchup and mustard—you know the works and then we'd be set. Oh yeah and we'd need hot J-pop music but I'm not sure if mom would like it and I think my older cousin might start calling me a weirdo if I do that.

5 minutes later . . .

I still hate lists and I hate planning parties . . . still. My neighbor keeps looking at me from my window and it's scaring the shit out of me. I think my neighbor's trying to pull one of those Vulcan Mind Reading tricks on me—or maybe I'm listening to my mom too much when she starts explaining Star Trek to me. I glanced again out of the sheer champagne curtains—the neighbor's gone and my mind's intact.

I still need to get started on that damn list.

10 minutes later and still fucking counting . . .

I made my list! I made my list! I made . . . my . . . freakin' . . . list! Someone should give me a cookie and preferably a nice DVD version of Sense & Sensibility as a present—that would make me happy. Alan Rickman is love so watching him flirt with Kate Winslet during the 18th century or whatever would just make me feel all bubbly and ooey-gooey inside. Gross I know . . . not a lot of people use the words “ooey-gooey” to describe happiness, I know . . .

Anyway here's my list:

I. Hotdogs!!

II. B-b-b-burgeeeeeeeeerrrrrrs!!

III. Ketchup, yes I am Queen Obvious. I mean you obviously need ketchup if you're going to have burgers and fries and let me—yeah—shut up now.

IV. Mustard

V. NO PICKLES. I just felt like putting that down. Pickles are so green and puke-colored and icky and slimy and just—eeew. Yes I'm childish and picky, get over it.

VI. NO TOMATOES. I don't like tomatoes—they're the color of blood and they're red and squishy and sour and blegh and they make me want to puke. So no tomatoes on my hotdog—unless it's ketchup.

VII. 3-4 cousins

VIII. 2 friends

IX. A tiara just to show that I am the princess of my lovely boring little domain for a day. Oh yeah I rule you all suckers!

Crud, mom came home and ruined my party-hardy party. She took my list, read it over, and crossed out stuff that she didn't deem “okay”. Mom's always right though—I think she has that weird Vulcan Mind Reading thing `cause she said that she knew that I'd write stuff like this. Pointless stuff.

Here's what she crossed out/underlined whatever:

VII. 3-4 cousins (She insisted that it wasn't necessary for me to write the exact number of cousins for a party list. Mom said that a party list is only for material things but my cousins are flesh and blood and bone—doesn't that make them material things?)

VIII. 2 friends (Mom said that I should stop listing guests as if they're items here. I think some old people pissed her off at work `cause she kept mumbling something about leaving her job to her guy friend, Peter-what's-his-name?)

IX. A tiara just to . . . (Mom just said here that I was being stupid and that I wasn't some imitation Disney princess. She said that if I wanted a tiara so badly I could make one out of tin foil. I hate how right she is.)

An Hour Later . . . Mom's gonna kill me . . .

Mom yelled at me to stop wasting water in the shower but she doesn't understand how much I value hygiene. I told her that it was imperative for me to spend an hour scrubbing off all of the nasty icky dirt that occupies the world. Mom just gave me that, “Girl I don't even know if you're really my daughter `cause you are as crazy as anything”-look and then she told me to just get ready. Mom gets annoyed at my talking easily. Poor mom.

 

End