On a side note, some of the writing below is in Italics, but it didn't show up when I copied and pasted... sorry :)
Shaking her auburn hair out, she felt the weight of the curls pressing down her back. This time she had been lucky. All they had been throwing was stones.
Looking on the counter, she had picked up a stone. It was small, greyish-brown in color, no bigger than a dime. That same stone had a red tip, showing where it had cut her skin, leaving the little imprint that was burning fiercely. She reached into her medicine cabinet, and extracted a butterfly bandage, placing it lightly over the wound, only after she had applied Neosporin.
Sighing, she left the bathroom, and headed for her bedroom. She was yawning before she got there, and ringing out the wetness from her shirt. It had started to rain as she was on her way home from school. She remembered listlessly throwing her book back on the entry hall floor, and reveled in the wonderful splat it made as it tracked water down the white wall. Her mother would talk to her later about lack of respect for her things, but at this point, she didn�t care much.
She sat down at her computer and pushed the power on. The machine whirred almost silently, the screen filling with Windows, and changing to the various backgrounds she had hastily slung on last week. Her room was a variable pit, only fit for herself to live in. Her mother had often begged her to clean it, but Jilianna had always answered something about her room, her mess.
Once the computer loaded, she flipped through some music she had downloaded, and found a few mellow, melancholy pieces that fit her mood. She opened a writing tablet, and began writing her suicide note.
Oh, it was all so perfectly clear in her mind. Her mother might cry for a while, but she would get over it, just as she got over divorcing her father. Two weeks later, and she had moved on to someone else. All she did not was lament on how her new husband was a paragon of virtue, and how Jili should try to live up to his expectations.
Then, there was her younger brother, Chuck. He was such a nuisance. All he ever did was try to break into her computer, so he could set her up and get her in trouble. Then he would be the good guy.
And lastly, her true father. He had been divorced of all a year or so when he was in the accident. Now, he was in a perpetual comatose state. The doctors predicted that he would never return. The executor of his estate, his mother, couldn�t let go. So instead, she took the money that he had left for her education, and she kept him alive-despite his will saying he was not to be kept a vegetable.
She wasn�t being selfish, thinking of her education. She was thinking of the pain he must be in knowing he is a vegetable, and knowing that it is his own mother that did not respect his wishes. Jili knew it would be hard, but she would sacrifice his life to make him happy. Even if it left her pain.
But she wasn�t the one in charge over that department. So all she could do is watch him deteriorate, and listen to her grandma pray and hope, even when all hope had long been lost.
Scratching her arm, she turned up the volume on her speaker. She began typing, her fingers deftly making the little keys depress and the symbols fill the page. Black and white, black and white, over and over she saw her small life story fill the screen.
She wrote of why she was committing suicide. Too much pain to endure. Her school did not accept her. She was different, and that was reason enough to alienate her. She didn�t �fit in�. She wasn�t pretty. She wasn�t popular. She was just Jilianna Morose, senior who didn�t belong.
But there would be no more slurs. No more insults, no more throwing stones. When she left this world, it was going to be with her head high. So what if she had different religious beliefs. So what if she was bigger than a perfect size two. She would fit in where she was headed� the beyond.
Grinning to herself, she went on, giving the expected remarks of �I�m sorry� and �Can you forgive me.� She wished her mother and brother a quick recovery from their sorrow and pain, though she knew already they wouldn�t mourn her too long. In fact, she could just imagine her brother moving his things into her room the day after the funeral.
Shaking her head, she laughed, and finished up. Now, some place to hide it until after her� accident. She searched her computer, humming to the tune, the words singing in her head. Finally she opened a new folder, and named �Inane Music Stuff�. Something her family wouldn�t look in until well after she had passed.
Rubbing her eyes, the events of the day suddenly weighed down on her, making her tired. She clicked the computer into standby, and stood up, stretching as hard as she could for the ceiling. Being impossibly short at five feet two inches tall, she yawned, and looked around her personal disaster area. Finding a glass that didn�t appear to be too dirty, she left the bedroom and headed back to the bathroom. Rinsing the glass, she smiled, and whistled to herself. She then filled the glass, and kicking off her shoes in the hallway, she headed back to her bedroom. Her green eyes catlike, she took in every nuance of her room, and felt the comfy home-like feeling it gave her wash into her soul. She set down the glass on her table, then flounced down onto her bed.
Looking at her clock, she noted that it was only a little after six, but she was tired, and she knew that if her Step Father was working late again, which he always did, they wouldn�t eat until well after eight. Snuggling into the covers on her unmade bed, she closed her eyes, and almost immediately, she was asleep.
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Walking silently through the park, Jili knew she was close to her home. In fact, this was the park where she planned to hang herself. She figured, hey, if I�m gonna die, at least I should have some shade to keep my skin from sun burning. Laughing in her dream, she looked around. Something just didn�t feel right.
She hummed to herself, as she did often, and walked down near the river. She saw the old gates, presumably from something during the Civil War. She shied away from history in school, but in reality, it always fascinated her. Just as religions did. Just as music did. Just as art did.
She really was pretty much interested in everything, though she would never admit to her schoolmates that. They would only find it another reason to tease her, making her feel like she was worth nothing.
Shaking herself, she turned, wondering what was out of place. The trees were waving silently in the breeze. The moon was shimmering down on the river. A child was crying for help.
WAIT!, her mind screamed. A child is calling for help! Why would a child be out here in the middle of the night? No one should be here. It is late. Children should be in bed, so they cannot witness my body as it hangs. Yearning to hear what the voice was saying, Jili walked closer, trying to discern what was being said.
She walked down a small hill, trying to find the sound. She tripped, and ended up face down in a small pile of dirt. Again, an insane bubble of laughter worked its way up her throat, pushing past her lips into the night air. Pushing herself up, off her stomach, she noted that she had landed in front of a cave. The voice seemed to be calling from inside.
Being as close as she was, she could clearly make out the words. �Help me�, the voice was calling. Soft and so fragile, Jili felt her heart go out. The voice sounded so young, that Jili didn�t know if it was a boy or a girl. Feeling her gut drop, she knew that she had to help the child before anything happened to it.
She pushed herself all the way up, and stepped toward the cavern. Sticking her head in, she cried softly, �Hello, can you hear me? Where are you?�
The voice of the child continued to cry, and call for help, but it didn�t respond to Jili�s voice at all. Jili didn�t know if that meant that child hadn�t heard her, or didn�t understand her. Knowing what she had to do, Jili slowly entered the pitch-black cave. She felt along the walls, trying to make sure she wouldn�t trip, and would be able to find her way back. The calls became wails, as the child became frustrated and lost hope.
Calling out again, Jili answered �Please don�t cry. I�m coming. You�ll be home soon. Just keep calling, so I can find you.�
Abruptly, the voice stopped. Jili paused, holding her breath. She tried to listen for the smallest sound, even a whimper, to set her back on the right track. She took a small step forward, trying in vain to remember which way the sound had come from.
Next thing she knew, she heard a sound behind her. Stopping, she waited, and heard one in front. Sounds started to come at her from all angles. Scared, she turned to look behind her, and twisted her leg.
Letting out a painful yelp, she fell to the ground. Only, the ground was not there. She was falling, and nothing was stopping her. She reached out, trying to grasp the wall. Bits of skin tore off her hands as sharp stones cut jagged marks in her flesh. She felt a scream get ready to jump out of her, but instead, all the sound she made was a thump as she hit the ground. She crumpled, her legs pinching out at odd angles. She was sure something had to be broken from the way she fell.
She sat for a moment, collecting herself before she too began to cry. She turned her body, reaching for the wall. It wasn�t there, where she remembered it to be. She laid down as comfortably as she could, then she reached out in all directions. Either she imagined the wall, or it had magically moved, but all that surrounded her now was dirt.
Sighing, she tried to heft herself up, but the pain in her legs from the fall made her slice toward the ground. Gritting her teeth, she sat up, and looked around for any light at all. She saw none, but that didn�t stop her. She was so morbidly pissed at that moment that if she found the bastard responsible for making that hole, she would make sure they had such a tongue-lashing, they would never forget it.
Her anger spent on that one thought, Jili sighed again and slowly made herself stand. Her legs were weak, and she fumbled a bit, but she managed to make herself stand up without too much strain. Just some pain, but that was life.
She called out, but only a tiny echo of her voice returned. She took a step. Then another. Her feet kept moving on their own accord while her mind tried to reason what had happened. She closed her eyes, and kept walking. After a few minutes, and a few near falls, she opened them, to see a dot of light at the end. Smiling, and feeling a bit better, Jili hurried toward it, limping as she went along. She was concentrating on that little light so hard, that she didn�t notice the things coming alive around her.
Inside the rock face, there was an actual face. Or it looked like one. The rocks seemed to form what looked like a mouth, nose, and two eyes. As she passed, the eyes opened, and followed her path. Sparkles seemed to crack about her in the air. A buzzing sound permeated the cavern. Jili didn�t even notice, so intent on finding that light she was.
Watching the light grow, Jili knew she was almost to the end. Just a few more minutes, a few more limps, and she would be completely out of this nightmare. Pausing, she turned to give one last look to the lonely, desolate cave.
Gasping, she was stunned when she saw the light behind her. It was golden, crackling with energy. The sparkles flew toward her, then away, as if teasing her senses. The rock faces smiled at her, as if they knew some secret and forgot to tell her.
Her sore legs gave out, but she was grateful. At that moment, she really needed to sit down. A sparkle flew up to her, and stayed suspended in air for a few minutes. Realizing that it was just floating there, Jili reached out to touch it. The sparkle flew away, then flew back and landed gracefully on her finger. Bending her finger closer, she tried to study the figure.
What she saw was a faery. Or at least, she thought it was a faery. It had wings, and hair, and even a little dress. The wings were gossamer thin, iridescent, and almost as large as the tiny body. The hair was bright orange, spiky, and reminded Jili of a few punk kids at her school. The dress was simple green, covering from shoulder to mid-thigh. The face, though, looked like a duck. It had human-ish eyes, but the nose and mouth looked like a duckbill, flat and protruding.
Strapped to the thigh was a small dagger, she guessed, by the shape of it. Reaching to see if she could touch the faery, it squawked lightly, and took off, flying toward the entrance of the cave. Or the exit. Whatever the light was. Jili turned her attention to the stone.
The face in it was entirely human. It had eyes, eyelids, a nose and mouth, which peaked interestingly in the middle, as opposed to having two small peaks like humans. The entire face was in the rock. It was more like an image below the rock wall, but it looked real. To make sure, she touched the face, which blinked, and smiled. It felt warm to the touch, and she giggled insanely.
�I�m dreaming. That is it. I must be dreaming. This cannot be real!� With that realization, she stood up, and, leaving it all behind her, she started for the light again. She heard someone crying, but this time, it sounded like no child. It sounded like a man. Or maybe a woman. But definitely someone older that a child. Hearing the word �help� jogged her into motion, and she headed off toward the light.
Just as she was approaching it, she heard her name, �Jili, Jili! Get up!� The voice quieted, then continued, �Lazy�� Moving her body, she awoke from her dream, knowing that someone calling her lazy was incongruent with what she had already experienced. Blinking against the lack of light in the room, she glared at the covers, and turned from her stomach to her back, trying to find the source of her irritation.
Of course, it was her brother. �Get up, you stupid, lazy idiot! It�s time for dinner, and you�re making all of us late!� Leave it to Chuck to be rude to her, when no one had even told her what time they had planned dinner at anyway.
Rather than start a fight, she sighed and answered, �Sorry, I�ll be out in a minute. Let me rub the sleep outta my eyes, then wash my hands.� Grimacing as he left the room, still insulting her, her anger rose slowly. Not only was she leaving him behind, but he also couldn�t even act civil to her. Not that he knew what she was planning� not that anyone but her knew.
Clearing her head, she went to the bathroom and turned on the tap. Running her hands under the cool water felt good, and she splashed some on her face to help clear the puffiness from her eyes. She did not look forward to dinners, ever. They were a strained affair. What with her mother perpetually singing the praises of her new husband, while completely tearing any integrity her father might have, Jili felt she would crumble and yell at her some day. Then, here paragon of a husband would take matters into his own hands.
Not that he was abusive in the sense of leaving welts on her at all times. But when he was upset enough, there was no stopping where his fists fell. She had only run into them twice, and once was more than enough times to know that it wasn�t worth the battle. Even after she complained to her mother, she backed off.
She would never forget the smug look on her face when she learned that he had disciplined her. Through the black eye, Jili remembered her mother mumbling something about it being �about time�, and that maybe now Jili would learn that she had to respect authority. She also remembered something about her new husband being a �true man� while Jili�s father was a �wimp� and �pussy�.
That had been when she realized that her mother never wanted her. Or rather, she may have wanted a daughter, just not her. Maybe if she had been thinner, like her mother with fair looks, rather than plumb and dark, like her father. Or maybe if she had been interested in cooking and sewing, like her mother, as opposed to her creative drawings and love of history. No, she wasn�t like her mother at all, and she thanked her lucky Buddha Doll every time she thought about it.
Glancing back to her room, wondering if maybe she should take the doll with her to dinner, she heard her name wailed from the kitchen. They were already pissed� better not waste any time, no matter how much luck she needed.
Pulling her hair from her face, trying to hastily make herself presentable, she walked into the kitchen. The yellows and oranges of the room made it appear to be a bright, loving place. To Jili, the colors were stifling. She wanted to throw up. She wanted to toss her cookies. She wanted to toss her cookies at her step-dad and knock him out.
Laughing at that thought, she made herself look solemn, and said softly, �Sorry to have kept you all waiting. I was unaware that it was dinnertime. I hope you can forgive my errant actions.� Feeling like she was on autopilot, she said her apologizes, and started serving the family. Not that she was slave, but Chuck and her took turns serving. Today was her day. Once a week, her mother would serve, to make it even, though she usually served by way of McDonald�s, or a restaurant with a waiter.
Serving first her stepfather, she saw the cold dislike he held for her. He felt she was a rebellious woman, sly and unruly. He thought her a slut, and assumed she had slept around, though in reality she was still a virgin. He also thought that she did not respect her mother, and was on drugs. That was the only excuse he could find the day he heard her yell at her mother.
But she deserved it! It was her day to borrow the car and see her father, who she visited at least once a month without fail. She wanted to go more often, but her stepfather said that going was disrespectful of her mother, and that she was forbidden to go. Nineteen, and forbidden. If she had a job, she would take a bus, but every time she applied, if they called the house, her stepfather would answer and tell them that she wasn�t interested. He told her that her place was at home. Women were not to work, period. End of story. So she suffered not only his dislike, but also his want to torture her.
She tried once to take the bus, but was found and that was the second time she met her stepfather�s fists. Remembering the bruising, she figured that dad would understand, and she went when she could.
That day, however, her mother changed her mind. Jili had asked what her mother hand planned, and she had replied that she didn�t plan anything. She just didn�t appreciate Jili and how she loved her father so much more. She said it was a shame, and that the old man deserved to die.
Jili had screamed. How dare you accuse him of anything! He loved you. So much more than you loved him! He did everything for you, and all you did was cheat on him, then take him to court for child support! That was when she met her stepfather�s fists for the first time.
The only satisfaction Jili had with her father in his condition is that he never felt pain, and couldn�t pay any alimony to his ex-wife, or any child support. That chaffed Jili�s mom, and when she wasn�t insulting her ex-husband, she was trying to convince the family that her father had the accident on purpose to get out of paying his dues. It made Jili sick.
Moving on to her mom, she served her portion, and was about to move on when her mom stopped her. �Jili, you didn�t ask if that was all I wanted. It is, but still. Your manners could use a little work. How on earth do you think you�ll ever find a husband? Stand straight. Stop moving, and ask if that is all I want. No man will ever want you the way you are now� Actually, I can�t see any man wanting you period, but we must try!� Her voice became a lilt at the end, as if she was happy to insult Jili.
Enduring as much as she could, she smiled sweetly, remembering that her time with them was limited. She turned, stood up as straight as she could, and responded. �I�m so sorry, mother dearest. How inconsiderate of me. Did you wish for more? Or is that that amount you wanted. You do eat like a bird. It is no wonder you keep your magnificent form.� Feeling that throwing in the compliment might get her off her case, she smiled, and awaited a response.
�Oh, Jili. Sarcasm is not what we use at this table. Insulting me will never do. After dinner, we shall talk.� Screaming inside, Jili was tempted, oh so tempted, to turn the food over on her head and make a break for it. Never before could she remember being this completely angry.
Knowing that her cheeks must be bright red by now, she nodded her consent. �Of course, mother. May I serve brother now?�
After her mom nodded and turned to her husband, she moved to Chuck. She thought maybe if she served him, her mother would let her go without dinner. She ditched all excuses when she realized that it would only bring questions that she didn�t want to answer.
�Chuck, would you like some of the meatloaf? I seem to recall last time you did not care for it.� Chuck laughed at her, for being made to act on her best behavior. Jili�s mom and step dad laughed, love shining in their eyes for her brat of a brother.
�It is not for you to remember, or speak, Jili. Just serve. If I don�t want it, I�ll tell you.� Sniffing like he was born and bred a blue blood, she nodded, and began to serve him. He never said when. She slowly spooned another portion, then another on his plate. He waited until she had emptied the entire container. Even though he would not eat it, he was stopping her from eating this way. Both by keeping her standing, and by taking the entire main course. Jili held her breath, and said nothing. When he nodded that he was full, she heard her mother snicker, but said nothing.
Finally, she came to her plate, and looked to her mom. �May I serve myself mother?�
Laughing, she answered, �No, I�ve thought of a better idea. As punishment for your snide remarks to me, you shall sit and watch, but not eat. It is better than if I talked to you, for I feel you would just sit there, with my words going in one ear and out the other. So sit, Jilianna. And watch.�
My mother knows no bounds to her cruelty. One day, it shall bite her in the ass, and she will know NOT what to do. Jili laughed inwardly, refusing to show her mother how much she cut her, as if striking with barbs, with her attitude. Instead, she smiled, hoping her eyes showed the barely contained anger, and hopping it made her mother feel guilt. Instead, her mother only laughed. She is a monster. She is not my mother. She stopped being my mother when she cheated on my father! She stopped being my mother when she let her new husband beat me! She stopped being my mother when she hurt me, and stopped caring for me. SHE IS NO LONGER MY MOTHER!
Feeling better at being able to scream, even if it was to herself, she sat docilely as she watched them finish off dinner. Her brother ate only two bites of the meatloaf, and exclaimed that he was full, with a snicker directed at his sister. She began to truly wonder when her family had taken such a downfall.
Tuning them out, she daydreamed. She daydreamed about the day when she would have kids. She daydreamed about seeing them smile, and hearing them laugh, and call her mom. She dreamed of them kissing her, even fighting with her, only to make up a day later. She dreamed, until she realized she was dreaming of things that would never happen.
She shook her head, then heard her name from her mom. �Jili? What are those cuts on your hands?�
Looking down, she noted that she indeed had small scars on her hands, as if she had been bleeding. Dumbfounded, she couldn�t even begin to wonder where she got them, until she remembered her dream.
It hit her full force. She had been falling, and she had reached out. She felt the rock under her hands, tearing at her flesh. Blinking, she looked up, then down again, remember the faery, and the feel of the rock face. Looking up, she tried to think of an excuse. Before she found one, her mother laughed.
�Oh, are people picking on my poor baby again? Hmm? Such a wonder, being that you shun people and all. Why do you draw away so, and make a spectacle of yourself? I do not understand it.�
Finding that as her scapegoat, she nodded. �Yes, I�m sorry. I must have forgot momentarily. I was chased� and, tripped on my way home. I must have scuffed up my hands in the process of catching myself.� She pointed to her forehead. �I received this as well. I�m sorry, I will try to stop removing myself, mother.� Shaking her head, she knew that it would never be mom again� just, mother.