P
Perfect Darkness
Guest
Okay, so I decided to start a chapter fic. This goes by in memories, if you get confused. I thought I'd give a chaptered fic a go. This is rated PG-13 for cursing. Enjoy
~;353;
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I was told to write a story. That was my assignment. Serena told me to and I was not to disobey. I doubted Serena’s knowledge of how to write at all, the woman was a voice coach. But I was a good kid, and not one to disobey. What would be my motive? I had nothing against the lady; she was sweet, always open to what I had to say and never willing to put me down. I loved Tuesdays. That reason and that only.
So when she told me to write a picture book on my life I looked at her as if she had just taken a dosage of reefer. I, a fourteen year old girl who hasn’t had that bad a life, write a book. A mad woman she was indeed, and nothing short of it. She made me continue on with the lesson, but I did ask her what was so incredibly interesting about my life. She just said I knew, and then I left.
So I had to write a story about my life. Well, she didn’t specify what did she? So I sat, and I thought. And thought some more. When I got it, it suddenly occurred to me. Yeah, I needed to write about my life, but the important part, not the useless part, like my first word of picture. Although I didn’t find this area of my life unbearably interesting, she did. People did, and so I was going to tell them. In different order, but nonetheless the word needed to be spread. So I sat back, as memories ran as fluid in my mind.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Opening night. The night of our play-Anything Goes. I had been the Assistant director and everyone had worked especially hard on it, and excitement filled their lungs as we awaited cues behind stage. I didn’t have a part, but that was okay. I was still part of the chorus and I wasn’t on for two scenes. So I just stood behind the curtain and watched the play. Nobody messed up, everything was running smoothly. I smiled.
Intermission, I had to go and change my costume. I went into the choral changing room and selected my costume for the next scene. I was ready, and wanted to walk out and see my mother before the next act started. But as I passed, I saw a cluster of people around the chalk board in the dressing room of the leads. I heard whispers such as “Oh my god…” and “Who would do such a thing?”
Curiosity filled my mind as I entered the dressing room myself and made my way towards the crowded board. My eyes slowly widened as I read the paragraph written in sloppy chalk on the board. As I scanned it, I heard accusations, but they were wind in my ear as the paragraph began to soak in. I bit my lip, and felt sorrow for the poor person who this befell upon. I read the paragraph again, in a small whisper, assuring that it was real.
I found no need for me, so I walked behind stage and began to, again, watch the show. I felt a small tap on my shoulder. “Turn around, talk to me” Then a kick in my back. I spun around
“Oh hey Arianna!” I said with a false mocking tone.
“Hey yourself, I know you did it.”
“What did I do?”
“You wrote that thing about Alex! I know it was you! You are so jealous since you can’t sing for your life!”
“Yeah!” Lisa chimed in. I looked behind Arianna horrified to find a whole crew behind her. Her gang, if you will. The all wore the same glaring expression and whispered and smirked as they stared at Arianna, awaiting her next move.
You see, Arianna was not that amazing. She had long, knotty, greasy hair and was not smart. She may have been skinny, but the thing is that she hung out with the “right” people and wore the “right” clothes. It also helped that she had a loyal gang of follwers behind her awaited every command she’d shoot at them. She could sing too. She had a part in the play for the past two years, the third and on had being in a lower school with no plays.
“I didn’t do that, I have nothing against her!”
“Course not, that’s why people are saying you talk about her behind her back!”
“Arianna, do you just want someone to blame? As much as you hate me you know I wouldn’t do that!”
“Oh, it’s okay, I realize that you are jealous of me too, especially since I am better than you in many ways, but this conversation’s about Alex, not me.”
Tears welded up in my eyes. “I didn’t do it.” I murmured, half telling her, half assuring myself.
“Keep telling yourself that.”
She smirked as she heard her cue and led herself out onto the stage gracefully along with her wonderful crew within her shadow, not even realizing their little place among Arianna’s big head. I didn’t want to watch the show anymore so I ran out of the room, crying, but two of my friends stopped me and asked what was wrong. I told them the story as they walked me to my dressing room. Their names were Raylie and Mark.
Mark had to stay out of the room, since he was a guy and it was a girl’s changing room. But Raylie came in and listened gently as I told her the details. She told me that Arianna was mean to everyone and it was okay. I had a scene to do anyway, so I left the dressing room. A few minutes later, Raylie joined me. I suddenly remembered that I needed a bracelet so I left for the dressing room for it was close to the stage. When I entered, something took me by surprise.
On the chalkboard in my dressing room, in Raylie’s handwriting, in the lower right hand corner, was written
Now Raylie was my best friend, but was this really how she felt? I erased the message and went back on stage, just in time for my cue, but I was still worried. Raylie asked if I was okay. I said I was fine and entered onto the stage. After I departed from my scene, and people were clapping, I ran off the opposite side of the stage, for that was my exit cue, not Raylie’s side, and who should appear? None other than Arianna herself.
“I wasn’t yelling at you, I was simply asking you about Alex.”
“Then how come you made me cry?”
“Is it my fault if you are sensitive? Don’t get so emotional next time.”
Then with that she swept herself away onto the stage for it was her cue line. I was amazed at how ignorant she was to what she had done to me. But seriously, what can a person do? The next scene was in about twenty minutes, so I walked in disbelief back to the changing room. Yet when I entered, what did I find?
In the middle of the board in neat, big handwriting, was written
But that was not Raylie’s handwriting. Raylie had messy, almost unreadable handwriting. I erased it before Raylie could see it and bit my lip. I was not in a good position. But I got changed into my next costume and left the horridly haunting dressing room one last time to watch the show and await my final cue. Maybe this show was destined, because that night, the show lived up to its name. The blaming, lying, and accusing, well, Anything Goes.
~;353;
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I was told to write a story. That was my assignment. Serena told me to and I was not to disobey. I doubted Serena’s knowledge of how to write at all, the woman was a voice coach. But I was a good kid, and not one to disobey. What would be my motive? I had nothing against the lady; she was sweet, always open to what I had to say and never willing to put me down. I loved Tuesdays. That reason and that only.
So when she told me to write a picture book on my life I looked at her as if she had just taken a dosage of reefer. I, a fourteen year old girl who hasn’t had that bad a life, write a book. A mad woman she was indeed, and nothing short of it. She made me continue on with the lesson, but I did ask her what was so incredibly interesting about my life. She just said I knew, and then I left.
So I had to write a story about my life. Well, she didn’t specify what did she? So I sat, and I thought. And thought some more. When I got it, it suddenly occurred to me. Yeah, I needed to write about my life, but the important part, not the useless part, like my first word of picture. Although I didn’t find this area of my life unbearably interesting, she did. People did, and so I was going to tell them. In different order, but nonetheless the word needed to be spread. So I sat back, as memories ran as fluid in my mind.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Opening night. The night of our play-Anything Goes. I had been the Assistant director and everyone had worked especially hard on it, and excitement filled their lungs as we awaited cues behind stage. I didn’t have a part, but that was okay. I was still part of the chorus and I wasn’t on for two scenes. So I just stood behind the curtain and watched the play. Nobody messed up, everything was running smoothly. I smiled.
Intermission, I had to go and change my costume. I went into the choral changing room and selected my costume for the next scene. I was ready, and wanted to walk out and see my mother before the next act started. But as I passed, I saw a cluster of people around the chalk board in the dressing room of the leads. I heard whispers such as “Oh my god…” and “Who would do such a thing?”
Curiosity filled my mind as I entered the dressing room myself and made my way towards the crowded board. My eyes slowly widened as I read the paragraph written in sloppy chalk on the board. As I scanned it, I heard accusations, but they were wind in my ear as the paragraph began to soak in. I bit my lip, and felt sorrow for the poor person who this befell upon. I read the paragraph again, in a small whisper, assuring that it was real.
Alexandra who plays Reno is a total bitch who can’t sing for her life. She is jealous and talent less and far from compassionate. I can hardly see why anyone would want to date her and am surprised she got picked for the lead role while not making anyone’s ears bleed.
I found no need for me, so I walked behind stage and began to, again, watch the show. I felt a small tap on my shoulder. “Turn around, talk to me” Then a kick in my back. I spun around
“Oh hey Arianna!” I said with a false mocking tone.
“Hey yourself, I know you did it.”
“What did I do?”
“You wrote that thing about Alex! I know it was you! You are so jealous since you can’t sing for your life!”
“Yeah!” Lisa chimed in. I looked behind Arianna horrified to find a whole crew behind her. Her gang, if you will. The all wore the same glaring expression and whispered and smirked as they stared at Arianna, awaiting her next move.
You see, Arianna was not that amazing. She had long, knotty, greasy hair and was not smart. She may have been skinny, but the thing is that she hung out with the “right” people and wore the “right” clothes. It also helped that she had a loyal gang of follwers behind her awaited every command she’d shoot at them. She could sing too. She had a part in the play for the past two years, the third and on had being in a lower school with no plays.
“I didn’t do that, I have nothing against her!”
“Course not, that’s why people are saying you talk about her behind her back!”
“Arianna, do you just want someone to blame? As much as you hate me you know I wouldn’t do that!”
“Oh, it’s okay, I realize that you are jealous of me too, especially since I am better than you in many ways, but this conversation’s about Alex, not me.”
Tears welded up in my eyes. “I didn’t do it.” I murmured, half telling her, half assuring myself.
“Keep telling yourself that.”
She smirked as she heard her cue and led herself out onto the stage gracefully along with her wonderful crew within her shadow, not even realizing their little place among Arianna’s big head. I didn’t want to watch the show anymore so I ran out of the room, crying, but two of my friends stopped me and asked what was wrong. I told them the story as they walked me to my dressing room. Their names were Raylie and Mark.
Mark had to stay out of the room, since he was a guy and it was a girl’s changing room. But Raylie came in and listened gently as I told her the details. She told me that Arianna was mean to everyone and it was okay. I had a scene to do anyway, so I left the dressing room. A few minutes later, Raylie joined me. I suddenly remembered that I needed a bracelet so I left for the dressing room for it was close to the stage. When I entered, something took me by surprise.
On the chalkboard in my dressing room, in Raylie’s handwriting, in the lower right hand corner, was written
The play is ruining my life. I never wanted to join it anyway. I hate all the members and I wish I died
.Now Raylie was my best friend, but was this really how she felt? I erased the message and went back on stage, just in time for my cue, but I was still worried. Raylie asked if I was okay. I said I was fine and entered onto the stage. After I departed from my scene, and people were clapping, I ran off the opposite side of the stage, for that was my exit cue, not Raylie’s side, and who should appear? None other than Arianna herself.
“I wasn’t yelling at you, I was simply asking you about Alex.”
“Then how come you made me cry?”
“Is it my fault if you are sensitive? Don’t get so emotional next time.”
Then with that she swept herself away onto the stage for it was her cue line. I was amazed at how ignorant she was to what she had done to me. But seriously, what can a person do? The next scene was in about twenty minutes, so I walked in disbelief back to the changing room. Yet when I entered, what did I find?
In the middle of the board in neat, big handwriting, was written
I am quitting the play and never joining again. I want to die.
~Raylie
~Raylie
But that was not Raylie’s handwriting. Raylie had messy, almost unreadable handwriting. I erased it before Raylie could see it and bit my lip. I was not in a good position. But I got changed into my next costume and left the horridly haunting dressing room one last time to watch the show and await my final cue. Maybe this show was destined, because that night, the show lived up to its name. The blaming, lying, and accusing, well, Anything Goes.