It was fate. I didn’t realize it at first, but it came to me. All in a rush, just now. This whole thing was fate. Fate, fate, fate. The Gods are guiding me through this all. This is something no one could do on their own.
My life was called perfect. My dad is a famous movie director and my mom is the perfect ‘Stepford’ wife. Seriously! If she had one of those weird flippy hairstyles and wore flowery, knee length dresses all the time…But I’m getting away from myself. I am thought to be perfect. I have long blonde hair, electric blue eyes and a gorgeous complexion. Seriously, I’ve never had a zit! I take ballet and horse back riding, and piano, and all the other things that ‘perfect’ children are supposed to do. I shop a ton and spend lots of money, but do I enjoy it? No. What’s the point of having all these great things and opportunities if you have no friends to share them with?
Okay…I have friends…I mean, I’m like the most popular girl in school. But I doubt that any of them actually bother to think about my personality. They think that I’m just like them. Just as perfect, just as happy. Well I’m not. Most of them are just using me for either popularity points or to get to my dad. Being a director, he has a lot of say in casting, in fact he had asked me several times if I want to be in one of his movies. I would always say to him, “One of these days maybe, but not yet.” Then I would think to myself, “Maybe when I have someone to scream about it with.”
So now I’m here, typing my story so you all can read it…assuming someone has found it and is reading it. Although that’s highly unlikely since I’ve put it in a bottle, corked it, and thrown it in the ocean. Grr…I’m getting away from the point again!
I suppose I should start from the horoscope. (I get a daily horoscope texted to my phone.) It was about 2 am on Saturday, I was up late instant messaging my so-called friends and surfing the web. I really wanted to go to bed. But I couldn’t. My ‘friends’ would bother me about it afterwards. So I waited. Then I picked up my phone, I don’t even remember why anymore, and realized that I had a text message. I pressed read, and saw the best horoscope I’d ever gotten.
Life: It gets better
“I hope so!!” I thought to myself.
Love: The one you are with is not the one. Try again.
“OMG!! I was debating whether to break up with Eric or not!! Now I know!” I thought, getting more and more excited.
Friends: The answer will come when you least expect it.
Like I said, it was the best horoscope I’d ever gotten.
Then, forgetting about what could happen, I switched off my computer and climbed into my large four-poster bed. I closed the thin, light purple, silk hanging around the bed and pulled up the pastel blue comforter. I was asleep faster then you can clap your hands.
In my dream I was running, escaping. I didn’t really know where I was going, only that it was better then where I was coming from. Suddenly a blade flashed in front of me then what looked like red paint came dripping down my mind’s screen. It left everything black with a small white dot, right in the center. I moved toward it slowly and cautiously. The dot grew larger and larger, until, right, as it was about to engulf me, a voice exclaimed loudly,
“Don’t do that! You-“
I sat up and sighed. Once again, my stupid little dog, a Pomeranian, King Edward, had punctured my sleep. He had been chewing on something again. The yell was my maid, Rosa’s. She hates the dog…And quite frankly, so do I.
All he does is chew on things, eat, sleep, and poop. Oh and bark. He barks ALL the time. And his bark is the most annoying thing I’ve ever heard. It’s yippy and obnoxious, and it NEVER stops.
I lay down, rolled over, and took a big long scream into my pillow. I hated my life, hated it, hated it, hated it.
“Well I may as well get up…” I thought exasperatedly.
I pushed my covers off and stepped out of bed. I walked over to the French doors that opened to my balcony that overlooked the terrace and pulled away the thin, silky curtains, letting light into my room.
I smirked, thinking of what my parents, especially my mom, would say if they saw me walking around my room without slippers on, and opening my own curtains.
I went through my normal morning routine, except, I never once called Rosa or Jacob, my butler. I dressed in faded jeans, a blue T-shirt with white accents, and white flip-flops. I did my hair all by myself. I even put my hair in a ponytail. I never wear my hair up, even when I’m ridding. Then I put it in a nice braid down my back. Well I don’t do it, Rosa does. And for make-up, I actually didn’t wear any. It was the first time in about two years that I hadn’t.
I walked down to the kitchen and had our cook, Marcy, give me a doughnut. Then I left through the back, slipping a pocketknife from the drawer into my pocket on the way. As soon as the house was out of sight I started to run. I ran harder and faster then I ever had before. (Which doesn’t really say much…)
I ran all the way to the edge of Hollywood, where there was a bus. I jumped on asking if this went to the ghetto. The driver said it was just called Southern L.A. Good enough for me! I gave him the money and sat down near the front, next to an old woman who was knitting.
“What stop are you going to?”
I was startled when the woman spoke.
“Umm…I’m not really sure. I just need to get away.”
“Why are you running?”
“Because life sucks. I mean life is terrible.”
“It’s the same thing.”
“Well my parents don’t think so. They said that sucks is slang and it’s forbidden in our house.”
“So you’re from Hollywood? The center, I’m guessing.”
“Yes.”
“I’m getting off on Applegate Street.”
“Then I will too.”
We sat in silence for the rest of the ride. Then after we got off the bus I turned to her and thanked her. Then she said something that confused me.
“That’s not the answer.”
“What’s not the answer?”
“I think you know.”
The woman smiled at me and walked off down the street, disappearing into the crowd.
I shook my head. It couldn’t be. What would an old woman know about my life? Deep inside I knew she was right. But I didn’t want to believe it. I wanted it to be the right answer. I wanted to do this. Not to get back at my parents or anything. But for me.
I walked along the street until coming to a park. I walked through it and stopped by a stream. I sat down and pulled the knife out of my pocket.
“Wait,” I thought to myself, “People will wonder. I will have to provide some sort of explanation.”
I took out my wallet and on an old receipt I wrote this:
I did this myself. I swear. Don’t worry, I’m fine. I didn’t do this for you. I did it for me.
Then I signed it and set it down next to me.
I sighed heavily. This was it.
I reached for the pocketknife and flipped out the thickest, longest blade. I placed it to my wrist and began to put pressure on it.
“Elizabeth?” A hesitant voice questioned from behind.
“What!?” I said angrily, whipping around.
It was a girl. I recognized her slightly. She went to my school. Marie, I thought her name was.
“Sorry to bother you!” She exclaimed in a half hurt half angry voice.
Then I heard her mutter “Rich brat.” As she turned around.
“I’m sorry! Marie?”
“Yeah. What are you doing here anyway? I thought you lived in Hollywood.”
“Yeah…I do, I mean I did. I’m here to kill myself.”
Saying it out loud for the first time it sounded strange. Like someone else was saying it.
“No really, what are you doing here?”
“Killing myself.” I produced the knife from behind my back.
“Oh my God! Why?”
“My life sucks.”
“Are you kidding? You’re life rules!”
“You don’t know my life. It’s hell on earth.”
“No, that’s my life.”
“At least you have friends.”
“So do you.”
“Not real friends! I just have people who want to be popular or famous.”
“Oh. Well if you want you can come to my place and hang out.”
“Umm…Okay. What’s there to lose?”
I couldn’t believe it. I was going to Marie’s house. I didn’t even think she had a house. See at school she was the classic downtown L.A. poor kid who trashed up the rep. of our classy little private school, Maricka Academy. She was one of the kids who had a scholarship and wore clothes from the Salvation Army. I hadn’t ever really found anything wrong with it. I mean, it’s good to recycle clothes and wear them multiple times. It’s less waste to fill the dumps and destroy the world. Some of the people at my school just DO NOT understand these things. And I must pretend to not understand them either. Otherwise I’ll blow my cover.
I walked with Marie to a big apartment building. One that had the doors on the outside and had no lobby or elevator or anything. I was thinking; “Whoa, this is a little weird…why are we here?” Then I figured that Marie must live here! Inside was even worse then outside. It was the complete opposite of my clean, perfect, Beverly Hills mansion.
The walls had old, crusty food on them and it smelled of rotten milk. The carpet looked as though it hadn’t been vacuumed in months and the couch had stuffing coming out of it. But at the same time, it was sorta homey. Nice, in it’s own way. It looked…lived in. Unlike her house, which looked like it had never been set foot in.
“C’mon. My room’s this way.” Marie said quietly and walked off down the hall.
Room…I didn’t even know apartments had rooms.
Marie’s room was really…normal. It was messy, but in a good way. Like the floor was covered in clothes. But what normal teenager’s room wasn’t? Her desk had jumbled papers covering it and her walls and ceiling were covered in posters of celebrities. Including my secret favorite, Lindsay Lohan.
“You like her too?” I asked her, pointing to a giant poster of them.
“Yeah, I know, it’s kinda-“ She sounded embarrassed.
“Cool! I love her. Secretly of course.”
“Me too!”
“What do you think of Paris Hilton?”
“Ehh....”
“That’s what I think!”
“Awesome! So, what do you want to do?”
“What do you usually do?”
“I like to bake. Like make cookies and stuff.”
“Cool! I’ve never made anything! My parents haven’t let me near a stove!”
“Oh my God! You have to! It’s sooo fun!”
She led me to the kitchen and showed me what to do. It was the most fun I’d had in a long time! It was weird…But Marie and I had so much in common. This was a girl I had barely said two words to since kindergarten. And now, to see that we both secretly loved Lindsay Lohan, our favorite band was The Crush, and we both just wanted to get away.
I never knew how bad her life was. She was poor, no one at school would hang out with her except the other two poor girls, her mom was a single parent who had her at 18 and she worked three jobs just to pay for normal necessities that my mom wrote checks for like she was signing a permission slip for school. Our lives were so different, but we were so similar. It was so weird. Like we should have been friends all along. Then we realized it.
We were sitting on the railing outside her apartment when it happened. We turned to each other and said it at the exact same time.
“This day has been…Amazing.”
We laughed.
“Marie…You’re so awesome. You’re the best friend I’ve always wanted but never had.”
“Same goes to you. Estelle and Rebecca only hang out with me because we’re all poor. You’re the only one I have stuff in common with.”
“Yeah. The only reason people hang out with me is because of my dad…”
“Elizabeth,”
“Lizzie.”
“But I thought you didn’t like the name Lizzie.”
“My mom doesn’t like it. She thinks that Elizabeth is regal sounding, and shouldn’t be shortened. To hell with that!”
Marie laughed.
“Fine. Lizzie…This won’t be the same back at school, will it?”
She had asked the question I had been dreading. I knew the answer. But I didn’t like it.
“No…we’re from different places. We can’t be friends. At least not so everyone can see. It would tear the fabric that is the social food chain in what we call our world.”
“I thought that’s what you would say. You should probably get back to your house. Your parents are probably worried.”
“Marie…I’m sorry. But it just wouldn’t work…”
“I know. But it still hurts.”
“It hurts me too.”
We hugged tightly.
“We’ll always remember this.”
“Always.”
I left her house and walked back to the bus stop where I had gotten off. I retraced my route all the way back home and snuck in, un noticed.
Nothing special happened until Monday. I was walking with my ‘friends’, they were gossiping about some person’s relationship, and I was barely listening. That’s when I saw Marie. She was walking down the hall in the opposite direction, alone. She looked at me with an empty face, except the eyes, they were filled with sadness. I smiled at her and winked. I saw her face fill with emotion and her eyes brighten with happiness. Then as we passed I slipped a piece of paper into her hand.
Lizzieluvs2cook
My new aim screen name.
this.is.like....currently.my.favourite.story
i.love.this....if.you.dont.update.at.least.weekly.im.gonna.kill.you...
SERIOSULY....I.WANT.YOU.TO..WRITE.THE.ENTIRE.STORY.NOW.LMAO
That's the entire story! You have to fill in the gaps on your own. Although I'll consider filling a few in for you.
omfg... curse you...
i wanted it to be a novel *cries*
Lol.