|posted on 2-May-2002 10:33:05 PM by Pixie|
|Title: Paris Blues|
Rating: PG-13 probably
Category: M/L who else???? also AU
Summary: Liz moves to Paris for a fresh start on life.
Disclaimer: If you really want my dirty socks and school work go ahead and sue but but I didn't make up any of these characters.
Authors Notes: I would really like feedback. Should I cont.??
Part 1: Airplane Food
It’s just me and the world twirling on its axis.
Always has been. Me, alone; they are practically synonyms.
The only difference is that now I can see it with my own 2 eyes.
Some people hate flying but I love to be soaring above the cloud tufts laid out before me. I love the way that no matter what the weather down below above the clouds is sunny.
Reminds me of those Care Bear videos. They lived above clouds and skipped on rainbows.
I have a very strong urge to just jump out of the plane and let the cloud’s catch me………
“Excuse me Miss, beef or chicken?”
I look up to see a beaming flight attendant.
Cut the crap lady we all know you have about 20 blisters on those little feet of yours.
“Beef or chicken?”
She getting impatient so I choose the safest option.
“Chicken please” I say.
“Sorry no chicken. Beef or chicken?”
I’m sorry didn’t she just say ‘no chicken’. I stare at her incredulously. She might think I’m looking at her like she has a third eye, that is, if she’s capable of thought at all.
Makes you wonder if American Airlines is using robots.
“I’ll have the beef.” I say, pronouncing every letter.
She smiles widely and hands me a tray of something that I’m pretty sure is not beef.
Once I am alone with my so called beef I lift the lid a little and gently poke the ‘beef’ with my ‘spork’. In my humble opinion a spork is Gods gift to man. I mean a fork and a spoon all in one! Genius. Of course there’s not a whole lot of foods that you can eat with a spoon and a fork unless you have really chunky soup but that’s beside the point.
My beef is a bit on the jellyfish side. I embed my spork in the beef jelly and push the tray as far away from me as possible.
It’s not a good idea to have jetlag and food poisoning all at once.
A baby starts crying and a man sitting behind me groans loudly.
You can tell he’s the kind of person that honks whenever the light turns green even if the car in front is moving.
That’s another thing I love about flying. It’s great people watching.
For example before take off a woman in the row next to ours was freaking out. And her husband tried to calm her and she started berating him about how she wouldn’t even be going with him on this trip if she weren’t so afraid he go knock up a 20 year old girl.
And for those 2 minutes of action I now know that she has jealousy problems which are due to the fact that her husband is cheating or has cheated on her. Plus she afraid of flying.
See? I know her more deeply than she would like to know.
This is the exact reason I don’t talk on planes unless it is very necessary. I don’t need stranger knowing my personal details.
See what a hypocrite I am? I hate people to know anything about me yet here I am purposely listening to people’s conversations?
What can I say? Bad habit.
“Hello folks, this is your captain speaking. We will be landing shortly at Charles de Gaul airport. The local time is 19.17. The weather is cloudy with a chance of rain later. The local temperature is 68 degrees Fahrenheit. Please put on your seat belts and prepare to land.”
“ Bonjour, ceci sont votre parler de capitaine. Nous débarquerons sous peu à l'aéroport de Charles de Gaul. Le temps local est 19,17. Le temps est nuageux avec une chance de pluie plus tard. La température locale est de 68 degrés de Fahrenheit. Veuillez mettre dessus vos ceintures de sécurité et préparez pour débarquer. “
I listen to the French translation making sure I know what it means. I haven’t been to Paris in years and my French is a little rusty.
I can’t wait to see Paris. I’m glad we are arriving in the evening. I think Paris looks it’s best with all the lights lit. It feels just so………………………. Romantic.
I guess you are probably wondering why I am going to Paris.
I’m from Roswell. Small little town in New Mexico with people all crazy enough to believe that there is life on other planets.
I decided to leave it because it represented everything wrong with my life. We moved there when I was 7 from California and being the little naïve girl that I was I actually thought we would be moving back there. Apparently everyone else including my mom thought so too.
Well we didn’t and the next 11 years were filled with my sitting in my room on Sunday nights because my parents were fighting downstairs.
I knew they loved each other and would never get a divorce but it doesn’t make it any less hurtful.
Once I turned 13 things seemed to being looking up but my happiness was short lived when I found that my father had cancer. 2 years I had to live with that pain. Crying and praying whenever I had a moment to myself. Walking down hospice hallway’s looking at the ground because I didn’t want to see the pain the patient’s eyes.
Then he died. Just like I knew he would.
Now here I am fresh out of college. I just turned 21.
I made the choice to leave and here I am.
I’m not sure why I chose Paris I guess I relate it to happier times. Times when my family was whole.
And here’s a secret: I felt when I first went there that I was gonna find something big.
And I can feel it know as we near the airport. Something is waiting for me. I just don’t know what……………………………
PLEASE SEND FEEDBACK! IS THIS A CRAP STORY?
[ edited 24time(s), last at 10-Jul-2002 3:30:14 PM ]
|posted on 3-May-2002 11:20:27 PM by Pixie|
|Thanx for all the positive feedback. This is my first story so it means alot that you guys like it.|
In case anyone is wondering this is partly based on real events. My dad did die of cancer 2 years ago when I was 12 but in this story Liz was already alot older.
The last name of the french family that Liz stays with is the last name of the family my mom stayed with when she spent a year in france. Oh and my mother hasn't run away. She's doing dishes right now.
Anyway hope this Part holds up to everyones expectations and sorry about any bad french spelling.
**************************************~*~ Part 2: Park Benches and Electric Rain~*~
I step out of the airport to find the captain was right. It’s pouring with rain.
I breathe deeply and try to taste the damp air.
To be honest I love when it rains. Each time it feels magical but here it’s almost as if each droplet is a splash of pure energy.
Each bead of water exhilarates me as I watch it fall and bounce off my shoulder.
“THANK YOU GOD!” I scream raising my eyes to the ebony sky.
An old lady passing by smiles at me sympathetically.
Now she thinks I’m crazy but I think I’ve just realized that it doesn’t matter what other people think of you. It’s not like I’m ever going to see that woman again.
I hail a cab because despite the fact I would love to walk in the rain I have my entire life to carry and it all fits into 5 suitcases.
“ Où voulez-vous aller Mlle?” (Where do you want to go Miss?)
“Le Café des Rêves, s’il vous plait.” (The Cafe of Dreams, please.)
I love the name of this place. We practically spent every vacation there. Well up until my father died that is.
The owner is a lovely lady named Madame Dherbey. She is the best cook and my second mother.
Her 2 daughters, Eloise and Magali, speak good English and have the sweetest hearts.
Looking out side I am glad they are letting me stay with them because finding a hotel right now would be an awful experience.
I spend the car ride looking at rain drops racing down my window against a back drop of ever changing scenery. The pitter patter on the roof is comforting and I find myself longing to sleep.
I sigh happily and lean back thinking about this moment.
I think this is the first time in 3 years that I have no need to worry about the future and I don’t need to obsess about the past.
Everything that I need to feel is right here.
As we turn the corner I see the little café on the corner. It’s closed but I can see that the lights in the upstairs apartment are on.
I start to bounce around in my seat eager to be upstairs with the people I call my second family.
Once my suitcases are piled up on the side walk I turn to the taxi driver.
“Combien ce coût?” (How much will that cost?) I ask.
“20 Francs s’il vous plait.”
I hand him the money plus tip and race towards the door.
Almost 5 seconds after I ring the bell I hear footsteps coming down the stairs leading up to the apartment. I smile knowing its Madame.
The door flies open and there stands Madame just like I said.
She screeches and pulls a wet dripping me into a hug after we exchange kisses on both cheeks.
She pulls away and studies my appearance.
“Oh Liz! Nous sommes ennuyés de vous tellement. Pourquoi ne nous envoyez-vous pas des lettres plus souvent? Avez-vous faim? Vous devez être! Un si long vol et la nourriture sont terribles! (Oh Liz! We missed you so much. Why don't you send us letters more often? Are you hungry? You must be! Such a long flight and the food is terrible!)”
She babbles on and I smile. She never really caught on to the English language.
So long since I’ve seen this kind of joy at my presence. Plus I know that I won’t be sleeping until she has fed me.
She guides me up the stairs as if I cannot remember the way. And once she is satisfied that I am seated she rushes off to find her husband and 2 daughters.
I sit in the familiar living room and look around. Not much has changed. I even remember the smell.
Musty but comforting.
I hear squeals from the room next door
Magali and Eloise come tearing out the kitchen and bombard me with kisses and greetings.
They ask me to tell them about American life even though they know I will tell them everything later.
Their father, Gabriel, joins us and we kiss each others cheeks as well.
I laugh inwardly because I know I would never do that with any of my other friend’s dad’s.
“Come into zee kitchen Liz. My wife has made you all kinds of food. You don’t eat it and she will be very angry.” He laughs.
Gabriel speaks English like his daughters. He is a business man and his company had head quarters in London so he was required to know the language.
I can smell food in the kitchen and my stomach talks to me so I allow myself to be guided into the kitchen.
2 hours pass before I can safely excuse myself from the table.
Madame finds it the highest insult not to eat everything plus seconds and thirds.
I find it amazing that they can eat so much and not be fat.
I find myself in “my” bedroom trying to sleep.
The Dehrbeys have a lot of guestrooms and they allow tourists to stay with them for fairly cheap. I learnt at dinner that they have a young American artist staying and a older German woman and a English writer.
They said I would find Frau Schmidt to be of high amusement and Mr. Harris to be extremely talkative.
They didn’t speak much of the artist except to say that he was very rarely seen and somewhat of a mystery around the house.
Not being able to get to sleep I put on a long coat and proceeded to walk to the park across the road.
A few minutes into my walk and I proceed to look for a pair of initials I know I will find there.
J.P + N.S
Jeff Parker and Nancy Smith.
I smile fondly as I run my fingers over the worn initials and the rain pelts down.
This is where my mother and father met.
I’m crying now. At least the rain can wash it away. I miss them both so much.
She was a French college student and he was an American traveler wanting to see the world.
Their paths collided and were never broken again.
They moved to America and lived happily ever after although I know my mother always missed France deep in her heart.
When my father died I don’t think she could handle it and since I was in college and I had to siblings I think she ran away without regrets.
She may have come to France and I intend to look for her but it’s been 3 years and I wonder if she’s even thinking about me.
She could be remarried and have a whole new life.
That hurts to think about but my father is dead so I guess that’s part of moving on.
Whatever the outcome I know that this bench is a memorial to my mother and fathers everlastingly love.
[ edited 1 time(s), last at 4-May-2002 12:01:33 AM ]
|posted on 4-May-2002 12:03:42 AM by Pixie|
|Thanx ISLANDGIRL5! Don't worry I'm sure you'll get to go someday. Then you can check up on my accuracy.|
|posted on 4-May-2002 8:58:02 PM by Pixie|
|Thanx Meagzie! BTW are you gonna write a sequel to A Present Unseen? Or if you have already where can I find it. I love that story! LOL|
I might have Part 3 of this up tonight but I'm having trouble getting the words onto paper. I definately want her to meet the "mysterious artist" in the next part.
LOL Thanx for readin everyone!
|posted on 4-May-2002 11:10:55 PM by Pixie|
|Hey guys thank you sooooooo much for reading!|
Ummm just a quick note, I’m going to be using really “English” phrases for the English dude because I want to make it obvious who’s talking in the dialogue. You know like “jolly chap” “tally ho” etc. I lived in England for 7 years though so I know that’s not really how the average Englishman talks.)
~*~ Part 3: Sketches of Emotion. ~*~
I didn’t get much sleep last night.
I came home from the park drenching with water and tears.
Hehe I called this place home. That feels good. I haven’t had a proper home since my mom left.
I’m enjoying the warmth of my bed and I can hear Eloise coming up the stairs.
I wonder if since this is my home Eloise and Magali are my sisters. That would be nice. I’ve always wanted sisters.
Yeah like I’ve always wanted my dad to be alive and my mother to still be around.
“ Hey Liz, Mama wants you down for breakfast.”
“More sleep please.” I know I couldn’t get back to sleep but the idea of being around a group of people makes me feel all agitated right now.
“You wish Liz. You know Mama wouldn’t let you skip a meal. She practically had a fit last night when you said you didn’t want seconds on dessert. Plus Liz that American might come down for once.”
My ears perk up at this. There was so much talk about him last night and how nobody ever saw him. I can tell Eloise is quite excited about the prospect of seeing him.
“Well I can’t have Madame coming up here to get me herself.”
Eloise smiles in satisfaction.
“Come on you could face the wrath of Mama you just want to see the artist.” She smiles knowingly.
“Maybe.” I laugh and climb out of bed.
Coming into the kitchen I am greeted by a subtle pandemonium. Madame is rushing back and forth from the table and kitchen placing food of all kinds on the spotless table cloth.
At the head of the table is Gabriel talking with a man who I assume is the writer. He is a small man but is gesturing wildly while Gabriel nods in amusement.
A rather “plump” woman is sitting at the other end already digging in to the abundant food placed in front of her.
Frau Schmidt I presume.
Magali watches her in fascination like she’s some kind of circus freak but Madame beams at her like she’s the best thing since sporks.
Madame loves anyone who loves her food. Question is will she still like Frau Schmidt when there is not food left for anyone?
I sit down between Eloise and the writer.
“Ah Liz. I’d like you to meet Mr. Harris.” Gabriel gestures to me and Mr. Harris grabs my hand in a friendly shake.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you love. My mate Gabriel here say’s you come from America. Great country. Been there once or twice myself. Hey I hear there’s another one staying here. An artist or something. Where the dickens is that fellow anyway. Doesn’t he eat?”
I fight the urge to laugh. How can such a small man talk so much.
“Alas Mr. Evans will not being joining us for breakfast. He went out early this morning.”
“Oh Papa!” Collective sighs from Magali and Eloise.
I can’t help but be disappointed myself.
It’s only 7.30am. Where does an artist have to be at 7.30?
Madame returns from her last trip to the kitchen and sits across from Gabriel.
“Mangez! Mangez!” (Eat! Eat!) Madame gestures to the food.
I reach for the quiche and semolina and eat up. I don’t want to disappoint Madame.
Looking up at Frau Schmidt I have a feeling Madame won’t be thinking of all the food wasted.
“So Helga, genießen Sie die Nahrung?” Mr Harris talks to Frau Schimdt. I guess he must be talking German because I don’t understand a word. Magali must though because she giggles.
“He asked her if she liked the food” She enlightens me. I laugh.
I feels good to be talking over things that don’t mean anything.
“Ja Andrew. Ich liebe das Brotchen. Konnten Sie die Butter bitte führen?”
“What did she say?” I ask Eloise.
She giggles and I can even hear Gabriel snort.
“She loves the bread rolls and could he pass the butter.”
Madame looks at us warningly as we begin to laugh and silence ensues.
“A n'importe quoi nouveau arrivé à vous récemment?( Has anything new happened to you recently?)” I ask breaking the silence that has lain over the table since Mr. Hariss and Helga’s conversation.
“Non. Rien bon ne se produit quand vous n'êtes pas ici Liz. (No. Nothing good happens when you are not here Liz.)” Madame answer rather swiftly but kindly.
“Merci!” I say blushing. She is always flattering me like this.
“Mama! Rappelez-vous vous a parlé à sa mère! Vous nous avez dits lui diriez ! (Mama! Remember you talked to her mother! You said we would tell her!) “ Magali say’s.
She talked to my mother?
My heart starts to beat as a verbal fight breaks out over the table.
Appartently I’m not supposed to know about it but I’m not really listening.
I just sit here in shock.
Mr. Harris looks uncomfortable and excuses himself.
Not that any of them are listening.
Gabriel tries to quiet the fight but ends up shouting himself.
I can’t handle this.
The Dehrbeys never fight. There’s gentle scolding but never any big arguments.
Now they’re having a full out war. Madame throws a plate down on the table.
I wonder why she picked it up. I hope not to throw at anyone.
They’re fighting…………………over me. I caused this.
I can’t take anymore so I run to bedroom grab my coat and run out the door.
The cold air is a shock to the system.
I choke in a sob and begin to cry.
I walk slowly to the park, heading towards the bench I sat on last night.
I try to take deep breathes of the harsh air but the tears keep coming back.
This is my fault entirely. If I hadn’t come here they wouldn’t feel the need to hide something about my mother from me.
This is all my mothers fault. If she hadn’t run away I probably wouldn’t be here right now and she wouldn’t have given the Dehrbeys something to hide.
This is all fathers fault. If he hadn’t died my mother wouldn’t have run away and I wouldn’t be here and the Dehrbeys would have nothing to hide.
In the end though it doesn’t matter whose fault it is.
Finding the cause of this problem isn’t gonna solve it.
More calm now I sit down the bench tracing the intials again and again.
Time passes and I am aware of a pair of eyes watching me.
I look over at the bench across the path leading down the pond.
A man with dark hair and equally dark eyes has a pad of paper and a piece of charcoal in hand.
“Que faites-vous?” I ask. (What are you doing ?)
He looks up and seems embarrassed to be caught.
“Sketching” He say’s.
I briefly wonder how he knows I speak English but I am more interested in what he’s drawing.
“What are you drawing?”
Wow. My breath catches in my throat. A handsome stranger is drawing me. This is the kind of thing that doesn’t normally happen.
My curiosity has gotten the better of me once again.
“You have emotion.”
Hehe I hope you liked this part. I had a bit of trouble with the breakfast scene so sorry if it’s a bit unrealistic. Feedback please. Do you think I should continue?
|posted on 5-May-2002 3:26:48 PM by Pixie|
|Thanx for the feedback everyone. I feel so happy now. I should have a new Part up this evening.|
Thanx Meagzie! I love that story. I hope Max comes back.
Once again Thank you everyone!
|posted on 5-May-2002 8:47:18 PM by Pixie|
|Thanx for the feedback everyone. This is Part 4. I’m not crazy about how it turned out but I hope it’s OK.|
~*~ Part 4: Exposed. ~*~
Ever had the feeling that you are totally unprotected?
That is how Mr. Artist has left me feeling.
To him I am apparently an open book.
So open that he knows I speak English.
Truthfully it scares me.
I try so damn hard to suppress feelings and here one stranger comes along and all those feelings can be drawn onto 1 piece of paper.
Am I that transparent?
My mom always told me it was unhealthy to run away from problems.
If that’s the case she must have one hell of a disease because SHE left her problems. She left me.
“You’re sketching emotion?” I say.
I don’t think I could sound more stupid if I tried but like I said the whole situation scares me and I’m not really thinking clearly.
“Yeh.” He doesn’t look at me like I’m stupid he just smiles kindly.
“Do you want to see?”
I nod dumbly and he walks over and sits down. He holds out the sketch pad.
I look at the picture.
I feel tears well up in my eye because he really did draw emotion. Whoever sees this will know how I felt.
“You’re really talented.” He still scares me but that doesn’t me the picture isn’t beautiful.
His eye’s are really dark and deep like one of those cold plunge things at a spa. Except not as scary or cold, more …………………. incredible.
I wonder if his amazing eye’s have some sort of power like ‘Emotion Vision’ or something.
I wonder if he can read everyone like he read me.
I’m scared but I like the idea of it being just me.
“Max. Max Evan’s. I’m staying with the Dehrbey’s as well.”
Oh well there you have it. He knows who I am. Picture of creepy stalker movies are erased from my brain.
The fear is lifted off my shoulders but I am left with a sadness that maybe I am not so special after all.
Maybe he’s just a good artist.
I giggle possibly from relief.
“What’s so funny?” He isn’t angry just curious.
“Just thinking about Eloise and Magali’s reaction when I tell them I met the elusive Max Evans.”
“Madame Dehrbey’s daughters? Why would they care?”
“You never show up. I think everyone was beginning to wonder whether you existed or not.”
“If you don’t mind me asking, why haven’t you come down for dinner?”
He looks trouble and thinks about it.
“ I guess I prefer to watch, not be watched.”
He smiles. I think my heart is melting a bit. I can’t let myself get very attached though. He might leave.
I don’t think artists are very dependable people. At least that’s what magazines say.
“Why were you crying?”
Uh oh. I really should tell him. It can’t hurt.
“My mother” That’s the only thing I can think to say that is truthful without telling my life’s story.
“Is there more to it?” He asks knowingly.
“I’ll tell you when we become friends.”
No if or but about it. I just know it will happen.
One might say I was intuitive.
It’s as sure a thing as the sun coming after the rain.
In fact looking up I think I see the sun.
The it hits me.
THIS was the big thing waiting for me.
I can’t really see how this is life altering but I assume I will find out along the way.
For the first time I feel like what was meant to happen has happened.
“I’d like that” Max say’s smiling.
Of course he’s smiling. This is meant to be. I’m not entirely sure how but this is right.
You could call him redeemer.
“Well I better get back. I kinda left in a rush.” I say. Not that they even noticed I left.
“You should come to dinner.”
“Maybe” He’s smart. Don’t make promises and you can’t disappoint anyone.
I might be disappointed if he doesn’t show though.
I turn to walk away reflecting on how he could possibly change my life. Maybe he knows where my mom is.
It’s not really important right now though.
“ Hey Liz!”
I turn to the voice I that will soon become very familiar.
“Why were you so uncomfortable with me drawing you?”His voice doesn’t hold any criticism. He’s not judging me.
Hmmmm. So many reasons. Maybe because if I’m going to be exposed I prefer to undress myself.
“I prefer to watch not be watched.” I say with a smile.
He smiles back. He knows what I’m saying.
He must after all he feels the same.
This part was a little shorter but I thought it was a good place to end.
Tell me what you think. I can take the good and the bad.
|posted on 7-May-2002 8:18:27 PM by Pixie|
|Thanx for all the feedbakc guys. I feel so loved. LOL Anyhoo I should have a new part up hopefully tomorrow but for some reason this site doesn't like me anymore and loads reeeaaaaallllllllyyyy slowly. Like I might have to wait 10 mins for this to post.|
I hope to see you soon!
|posted on 8-May-2002 7:44:17 PM by Pixie|
|Thanx Nana! I will definiately need your help. I've only taken French for 4 years so most stuff I used a translation thingy and I think it takes everything very literally. I haven't written anyother stories that are worth posting but I'm playing around with a few ideas. Got any? |
Thanx for all the feedback everyone. I really hope this part is OK because its given me a world of trouble.
~*~ Part 5: Disowned~*~
Walking back home I realized how much I want Max Evans to show up to dinner.
When I asked it was mainly for Magali and Eloise’s benefit but now I think I did it because I want to find out who Max Evans is.
Especially if he’s going to be my knight in shining armor.
Hehe that sounds so old fashioned. Like he’s going to gallop past on his horse and we go riding of into the sunset to live ‘happily ever after’.
Things in real life never end in a happily ever after. Never.
The fighting has stopped.
I walk into the room to see 4 faces all with very sorry expressions.
“Liz we are all very sorry about the way we reacted.”
Oh great now they’re apologizing for something that is my fault. And my mothers. And my fathers.
“Yeh Liz, it had nothing to do with you” Magali insists.
I’d like to believe that Magali but I can’t.
“It’s ok guy’s. Everything was just getting a little hectic. No big deal.” I can’t let them wallow in guilt. Not like I am.
“Well Liz the thing is it is a big deal. You see my wife spoke to your mother about a week ago and now we have reason to believe she’s somewhere in Paris.”
I choke on my own breath.
This is way too much to handle. MY mother HERE in Paris?
God where is a paper bag when you need it? Why didn’t I practice yoga breathing methods ore often?
Why I am thinking of stupid things like this?
All I know is that it is very possible I may be within a few miles of my mother and I didn’t even know it until now?
“Why didn’t you want to tell me?”
I don’t want them to feel guilty but why the big argument?
The family I have grown to love and trust is now exchanging worried faces.
Madame starts crying.
Eloise looks like she might.
Magali is avoiding looking at me.
Gabriel is having some sort of inner battle.
And I am wondering just what the hell is so bad they couldn’t tell me and what is so bad it made Madame cry.
“Well ……….umm…….. the thing is……… we couldn’t tell you because……….”
Eloise looks to her family for support.
For god sakes girl spit it out!
Wow mow I feel really bad.
Eloise has been my friend for years and now because of something my mother did which is probably a result of something I did I am getting mad at her.
It’s not Eloises fault. It’s my fault. It’s my mothers fault. It’s my fathers fault.
Don’t kill the messenger.
“Liz we couldn’t tell you because you would want to see her and she would prefer not to see you.”
Thank’s for sugar coating it Gabriel but whatever way you put it it’s bad.
My mother. My own god damned MOTHER doesn’t want to see me?? Who the hell does she think she is?
You would think I would cry right now.
That’s what I did when she left.
But all I feel right now is rage.
What the hell is so wrong with me that she doesn’t want to see me?
Did I suddenly become a hunchback and everyone’s been to nice to tell me?
Did I grow a third eye?
Is my breath bad?
As you can see I don’t think very rationally in times of shock and disorder.
I can see in my mind what’s happening.
My mother has moved on. She has a nice new family where people don’t die and don’t develop 3rd eye’s out of the blue.
‘Liz Parker you say? I’m sorry you must have the wrong mother.
Oh wait I did have a daughter. I was a coward and left her. I couldn’t handle my old life.
I’ve made quite a nice new one for myself though haven’t I.’
Whatever the situation is it all comes down to the fact that there is something so wrong with me that my mother doesn’t want to see me.
“I’m sorry Liz. I know this must be awful.”
No need Magali. I don’t need your pity. Hearing your mother sob’s is quite enough.
Look at what you’ve done mother, because of me and my father. Madame cries and cries because Dad died and I’m bad and you are a coward.
It’s all boils down to one thing.
Life has chosen to hate me because death became my family member.
The rage is boiling inside as we speak.
I thought I needed her but I’ve gotten along just fine and dandy without her.
You disown me mother??
No, no, no. You are confused because I, mother dearest, disown YOU.
Sorry to post this part so close to Mother’s Day. I love my mommy really!
The beginning is a little iffy but hopefully things can flow into the next chapter.
Feedback please! I’m sorry this chapter was so bad! Forgive me??!
[ edited 1 time(s), last at 8-May-2002 7:46:20 PM ]
|posted on 9-May-2002 10:15:48 PM by Pixie|
|Thank you soooooo much for all the feedback guy's! I feel all warm and fuzzy inside.|
I didn't really think about playing on the accents Nana but it's a great idea. I'm just not sure I can pull it off.
I hope I can have the next part up very soon but I'm not sure if I want to go straight to the dinner scene or have a little in between part with just her and Max. What do you think?
I have been thinking about writing a new fic. The idea will be that Liz is blind and meets Max etc etc. I only just thought of it now so that isn't really a good summary but do you guys like the idea?
Either way I will still carry on with this until you get fed up with it!
See you soon!
|posted on 12-May-2002 11:05:36 PM by Pixie|
|Wow I love that you guy's like my story!|
I hope I can have a new Part out very very soon but since the general consensus was an inbetween part with M/L I am having a little trouble starting it off.
Nana- Would it be awful of me to ask if you would go back through previous parts and correct my french grammar? You could send the corrections to my email or this b-mail thingy. If you don't want to I could probably get my mom so no pressure. Just an idea!
I want to give a really big THANKYOU! to: Wench On A Leash, Meagzie, CartoonHeroes, roswellluver, aZNroSweLl anglgrl, marteloise, ISLANDGIRL5, AllAboutEyesS09, abbs007, Flycat64, m14, nayney, FreeFall, MelodyCrsh47, Kristin80, Audio Poet, Kazza, attilathehoney, BronWen, mpls muse, Katalina, Nana, Teresa, TrueLoveConquersAll and last but not least Shama
Hehe I went back through all the pages to write down these names!
Anyway's I hope to see you again in the very near future but apologies if my writers block decides to stick around for a while.
|posted on 14-May-2002 12:02:04 AM by Pixie|
|Well I wouldn't want to make you sad so heres a new part!|
~*~ Part 6: Sympathetic~*~
With my rage still intact but an army of sadness trying to break down my walls I slowly climb the stairs.
I’m pleading with my eyes not to cry but my face aches from the strain.
I’m glad I was able to escape the concerned clutches of the Dehrbey’s.
One more ‘Are you OK?’ and I may have cracked.
Don’t get me wrong. I love them dearly but all I want is to be alone and compose myself before dinner.
‘My mom doesn’t want me…….’
I anger and sadness that now accompanies this thought provoke me to kick the way.
But hard enough for a door to open and a dashing young man to step into the hallway.
“What the heck?...........Oh Liz, Hi.”
Oh god just what I need.
He seems embarrassed.
I must seem panicked.
Trying not to look so pained I say.
“Sorry about that. I just…..” What exactly did I ‘just’?
“Hey don’t worry about it.”
Hypocrite. He looks twice as worried as I ever would even I had demolished the wall entirely.
“Are you OK?”
Ah. The cursed words, and the strong hands reaching towards my shaking ones.
“Yeh I’m…………I’m fine.” Et Voila! I even manage to finish with a hint of a smile.
I could be a con artist someday. Though apparently not to Mr. Evans.
“No your not.”
Inside my heart is experiencing an earthquake because his warm hand is wrapped around my clammy one.
His thumb is sketching small circles on the back of my hand.
Should I be scared?
Should I be mad?
He just opened up my heart and took a good old gander.
Strangely though I feel neither.
I think this is how you’re supposed to feel around your guardian angel.
However even though this may be the case he still stomped on the dam that I have been building on my trip up the stairs.
The tears come freely.
I must sound like a drowning fool standing in the middle of the hallways chocking back sobs desperately trying to regain the protective barrier that I just lost.
He lets out a sympathetic ‘Oh’ and pulls me in.
No sooner have I even begun to compose myself than I am wrapped in a strong warm embrace.
And knowing that Max insinuated this makes the tears come harder.
“Shhh Liz. Please don’t cry.”
But it’s a never ending cycle because the longer and harder I cry the longer and harder he holds me.
Who knew that guardians angels could be so warm and gentle?
“What can I do to help?”
Well holding my in your arms forever would be nice I’m thinking.
But I figure that’s too much to ask of person I just met even if he’s my angel.
He probably doesn’t even know he’s my angel.
“Come down to dinner.”
I can almost imagine him smiling into my hair as he hugs me tighter and says softly.
“Whatever your heart desires.”
Hehe Hope you like that part! I didn’t want some big first kiss or anything for this part cos hello?? They only just met!
Please leave feedback because I really wasn’t all that happy with this part and want to know what you think.
Oh and sorry it was so short!
|posted on 19-May-2002 1:43:45 AM by Pixie|
~*~ Part 7:Intermission.~*~
Wow! I’m on my bed.
I wonder vaguely how that happened.
It doesn’t really matter anyway.
Nothing has changed.
Well except Max Evans took on some angel duties.
Ha! Duties for him maybe but I thoroughly enjoyed myself.
He didn’t seem to mind either…………….
God! I really should get my head out of this perfect little world where Max Evans loves me.
Besides guy’s don’t exactly flock around my jaw dropping self.
And even if they did, I don’t go for people that could potentially leave me.
I learnt my lesson and I learnt it well. I’ll be damned if I have to learn it again.
Ugh. I will not fall back into that depressed self pity chasm again.
I was just crawling out of it.
Somehow Max made it easy to be nice to myself. And he didn’t even say a word.
Well not about my self pity crap anyway.
All he said was that he would come to dinner.
This is also a plausible excuse for my sudden change of mood.
That’s all I have anyway.
Plausible excuses and dirty roadmaps to nowhere that I’d never use because I have learned not to put your faith in things that will inevitably disintegrate and turn into dust.
Dust to dust. Ashes to ashes. Humans aren’t the only things that follow this pattern.
Back to dinner thoughts.
I am briefly amused by how this endeavor started out as a random act of selflessness for Eloise and Magali and has somehow turned into a obsessive ‘God how many minutes until dinner’ ,nervous system backing up, kinda deal.
Seriously though. You wouldn’t believe the number of times I’ve looked at the clock.
You would think in all my obsessiveness I would just go downstairs and ask Madame.
That’s the weird thing though.
It’s almost like I want to save it.
Like on Christmas. I almost didn’t want it to come besides before I knew it would be over and I’d have that awful post-christmas feel.
Somehow though knowing this doesn’t stop me from fidgeting.
Max Max Max Max Max
Hehe it sounds funny if you say it over and over again.
I’m ashamed of myself.
Can you say possessed? Maybe Max is actually my little devil.
OK. If Maria were here she’d tell me I needed to take a big whiff of something to screw my head back on the right way.
I kinda wish she was here to talk to.
Her babbling would be a breath of fresh air after my incessant thinking. Its getting to be a very bad habit.
Did you know that she was the only one I could really talk to after my dad died?
I remember she sent me a card while I was away from school.
It just said that I could come over whenever and if I wanted to talk then I could. If I didn’t then I didn’t.
No pressure. Just comfort.
No one ever offered me that before.
With my mom I was “repressing”.
With others they tried to unscramble my words so they could figure me out. So they had something to talk about. Something to take their minds off of their own screwed up worlds.
I hated it that they felt they had to come up and ask how I was doing.
I’m always going to say “fine” even if I’m on my death bed and it only brought me closer to the truth.
Because the truth is I do repress things.
I can’t deal with it. I don’t want to. I just want to be left alone where I can pretend I’m fine with death and don’t mind conflict.
I can just be “perky Parker” and let everyone think that’s the real me.
And to some degree it is.
I’m very rarely depressed. But only because I repress.
I know I’m babbling right now and to be honest I don’t give a damn.
Sometimes even repressed people have to let it all come out.
I’m extremely sorry this was boring.
I was putting a lot of ‘me’ into this which is why it might not be entirely true to Liz’s character. It’s very autobiographical I guess. Sorry about the rambling on and on. I swear the next part will be the dinner scene and hopefully more interesting. You can tell me if it was bad. I kinda like constructive criticism.
Quick question: Would you guys like one of the sisters to also like Max? The only problem is that it would cause conflict between Liz and the person she thinks she can truly trust (I.e either Magali or Eloise.) Tell me what you think.
|posted on 25-May-2002 12:38:04 AM by Pixie|
|Thanx for all the feedback and ideas guy's. I haven't quite finished the dinner scene yet. I have been loaded down with finals and make up work etc. I may or may not have that part out this weekend cos it's my mom birthday. I have Monday off though so finger cros|
If I do have Magali or Eloise like Max I swear to you it will have a good ending to it. I figure they're both way better people than to let a crush come before a "sister".
I still haven't really made a descision about it yet though. To be honest I don't really have a set idea for the rest of the story. I'm sort of taking it each part at a time.
If you guys have any ideas for in-built plot lines or characters please tell me. I could use a good dose of musing's.
Again thank you for the feedback. Bonsoir mes amies! (hehe thats me trying to show off)
|posted on 26-May-2002 11:54:29 PM by Pixie|
|m14:hope your mom had a good birthday!|
So here is Part 8 which I think is "OK". It better be. Anyways tell me what you think. Feedback is appreciated and loved.
~*~Part 8: Dinner Talk.~*~
Needless to say dinner was called after about an hour of me pacing like the idiot I am.
Needless to say I ran downstairs like the banshee I will become.
And needless to say I was the first one down.
Ugh sometimes I don’t know why I bother getting all anxious.
I’ve been sitting here for what seems like hours and the only one who’s come down is Helga and Andrew.
I have a suspicious feeling Andrew is talking to me.
Oh well it’s not like he notices that every 5 seconds I look towards the door.
“So I was down at the pub and this rather large bloke comes up and asks if I would like a pint….”
See what I mean. That mans must have more stories about being in pubs than the bar tender working there. I would think he’s an alcoholic but he’s far to “peppy”.
My head whips round as I hear footsteps out side the door.
They really should warn you that nervousness is detrimental to your health.
A total of 5 more people are due to arrive at dinner which means by the time dinner actually starts I will have been through the equivalent of 5 mild car crashes.
I hope there’s a hospital nearby.
I wonder what I would do if there wasn’t.
I suppose someone in the house might know first aid.
Didn’t Gabriel say there was a doctor living next door.
Haha. That would mean there must be a hospital nearby.
Unless he commuted a lot each day.
Then I guess I could ask him the quickest way to the hospital.
Or maybe I’d be to ill to ask him.
But then I could get Gabriel or someone to ask him.
OK OK OK. Deep breathes………………let your mind blank out……….SHIT!
This is BAD!
In fact I’d say it’s horrifying when you are sooooooo nervous you ramble on and on and don’t even notice that the thing you were nervous about in the first place is sitting right across from you staring into your god damn freakin’ eyes!
I should start carrying around a paper bag for such emergencies cause right now I don’t know whether I need to breathe deeply or throw up.
I feel the need to roll my eyes.
I need someone to jump start my heart like on ER and all he say’s is “Hi.” Glad I wasted all that time panicking.
As you can see I’m not much better.
“I didn’t think you’d show.”
Well? I didn’t. Now why does he have that hurt look splashed across his face?
“Why wouldn’t I show Liz? I promised.”
Now I know I feel like I’ve known him for ever but to him I’m just an acquaintance at BEST so why would he seem so sad that I would doubt him.
“I don’t mean it like that Max I just…………….well you seem pretty quiet.”
Why am I defending myself?
“Oh.” He’s looking down now.
God I just couldn’t shut up and be happy that he did come could I?
“I’m really glad you came Max.” I don’t want the silent treatment.
He looks up with a genuine smile. He looks shy. It’s cute.
His smile is contagious so I smile back mimicking the shyness of his.
“Then I’m glad I came.”
God could he be anymore cute? I really shouldn’t let myself fall though.
If someone else left me I’m not sure I’d have the strength to climb back up to my pedestal of denial.
So we are sitting here just staring at each other.
To tell the truth I am relieved that the Dehrbey’s graced us with their presence. It gives me something else to look at.
It was getting a little TOO intense.
I hear the squeaks of shock as Magali and Eloise as they finally get to see the much anticipated Mr. Evans.
Eloise looks at me questioningly and I wink. My way of saying all will be explained later.
She nods still suspicious but also eager to be in the presence of this man who was previously ‘”missing in action” as Mr. Harris said this morning at breakfast.
Magali has already plopped down in the car next to Max and tilts her head examining him.
I feel the urge to laugh at her blatant curiousness and I look towards Max.
My intention was to gauge his reaction to the onslaught of curious faces but I realize that his eyes are still on me in the same intense way they were before.
I shiver and wonder if he ever took them off me in the first place.
I nod towards Magali and he looks confused before turning to Magali. With her face so close to his I laugh at his shocked face.
Magali looks un-phased though.
I roll my eye’s and turn towards Gabriel who is standing with Madame.
Both jaw dropped and both staring at Max.
Shaking his head lightly he sits down.
He gets his ‘I’m about to embark on a friendly conversation with a person I haven’t seen yet” face and turns towards Max.
“Mr. Evans how wonderful of you to join us.”
If this sounded sarcastic it wasn’t. Gabriel is completely genuine. I don’t think he know how to be sarcastic.
Max looks up.
I know that he pretty much keeps to himself but he has this weird thing where he can talk to anyone and seem comfortable.
Maybe he really is comfortable around people but uses he irregular appearances to work with his “artist” look.
Somehow I doubt it though.
Max is totally genuine.
Ugh. Insert dreamy smile here.
In my head I roll my eyes.
How is it that I’ve been just fine by myself but now I feel like I really need Max. I feel like a damsel in distress or something crap like that.
It’s pathetic if you ask me.
“What’s pathetic?” Gabriel asks.
WHOA! Gabriel can read minds? COOL!
“How did you know I was thinking that?” The awe apparent in my voice.
Gabriel looks at me funny. I think everyone else is to but I’m feeling a bit to uncomfortable to look.
“You didn’t think it you said it.” Eloise points out straight faced.
Wow now I feel embarrassed.
“Well what did you mean?”
“Oh. I was just thinking that it’s pathetic when a girl gets all swoony and has to have a guy rescue her.”
I look to Max for an inexplicable reason and the expression on his face makes me think I have struck a hidden chord with him.
“Well sometimes the people that think that are the ones that need the rescuing.” Max say’s quietly.
Whoa talk about striking chords.
Do you think he knows why I said that? Nah. Maybe his girlfriend is all sad and depressed somewhere and he’s thinking of how much he would like to rescue her.
I feel bile rising in my throat so I stop that train of thought.
Another handy trick in the Wonderful World of Denial.
I should write a book. ‘Denial for Dummy’s”.
I guarantee it would be on the best seller list by the end of the week.
Everyone has problems and want to escape them. Some spend years looking for a perfect way so why not condense the material into 237 pages and sell it to the masses.
Only now do I take in that the conversation has resumed and food is being eaten.
I have a feeling my internal car crash didn’t exactly affect anyone else.
Except maybe Max. He’s being rather quiet.
Not that I’ve ever seen him talkative.
“So Max you got a girlfriend ?”
For a very odd reason Max looks at me looking quite startled.
“N-no. I don’t”
And then he looks at me for confirmation. This is getting weird again.
“Well that can be amended.”
He laughs nervously.
Eloise looks at Magali in shock.
To be honest I can feel that bile rising up again.
What is this?
I shouldn’t be feeling this from my ‘sister’. I should be cheering her on.
But I can’t help the feeling of ‘Max is mine’.
Not mine as in ‘mine’ but you know…….just…….mine.
He’s my angel. Not Magali’s. Not Eloises. No one’s but mine.
I know I’m being selfish because surely guardian angels help more than one person but for the first time I wish I hadn’t asked Max down to dinner.
He was my secret. If I hadn’t then I would be upstairs later on giggling with Magali and Eloise because ‘I’ could tell them about Max.
Instead I’m gonna go sulk because I’m a spoiled brat that wants her angel all to herself.
Like I even deserve an angel. I didn’t deserve my mother. God clearly didn’t think I deserved my Dad. I don’t deserve a damn thing.
Ha. Here I was thinking I had finally found people to be happy with.
And I probably could if I could just stop being such a jealous brat.
I try to forced my food down like I try to force my feelings down.
Why can I feel tears stinging my eyes?
Why can I feel my stomach convulsing?
Just stop it.
I slam my fork down and everyone turns to stare.
And all of a sudden everything I try so damn hard to hold in comes rushing out in the form of a sob.
I hurriedly scramble to get out of my chair managing to send it crashing to the floor.
I’m causing such a frickin’ scene that even Helga has stopped eating. Fork halfway to her mouth. Frozen in disbelief that ‘Unfeeling Girl’ could be so emotional.
I hope Magali forgives me.
I’m sobbing now and can’t see anyone to my run towards the door and clamber up the stairs ingnoring Max.
Max who is shouting my name like I’m about to go kill myself.
I wouldn’t though. ‘Unfeeling Girl’ will rise again.
It just might take a few hours.
So. Now be honest. Did that live up to you expectations??
|posted on 28-May-2002 11:12:06 PM by Pixie|
|Ah you guy's are too good to me. Leaving all that feedback!|
Well I'm glad you liked the last part. I honestly didn't expect to have a Part out today but I had a burst of energy (after feeling crap all day) so here is Part 9!
Umm I was gonna make this longer but I realised I need to study so the companion part to this ill have to wait until tomorrow.
It's doesn't really have anything to do with this part but to me it ties in. Don't ask how when I post it! lol
So here we go.....................
~*~Part 9: Baby Steps.~*~
I’m counting the seconds until he footstep reach my door and the presently unknown person shows their face.
It could be Madame wanting to consol me even though she has not clue what the hell my problem is. She won’t even bother to ask what’s wrong. That’s one of the things I love about her.
It’s a pair of comforting arms no questions asked.
It could be Gabriel sent on a ‘fatherly’ mission by the rest of the dinner party. He’d sit down and ask me what’s wrong.
If I told him he would give me some practical advise that I could really use, a kiss on the cheek and a ‘job well done’ downstairs.
It could be Eloise who would beg to know and then want to sit and gossip with me sharing her problems so mine seem less overbearing.
It’s more than likely Magali and if I told her she’s be heart broken. Of course she would ignore me for about 3 day’s and then we’d be right back to here again.
It’s not that she isn’t helpful in times of crisis it’s just that she hardly ever gets what she wants and so when she finds something she does want it’s hard for her to let go.
I have the same problem except I refuse to let myself want things.
It makes it easier to let go.
My ultimate worst fear is that it will be Max.
I couldn’t tell him. The consequences would be horrendous.
I could find out he likes Magali too. He could be totally grossed out.
He didn’t ask for me to like him. To him I was just a crying girl on a wet park bench who needed help.
Ha. That’s all I ever am. An invalid. A nuisance. A waste of valuable ‘caring’ time.
I don’t want to be that anymore. I want to be independent. I don’t want to have to cry on people’s shoulders.
Sure it’s nice now but in the long run they’ll resent you for it.
They always wonder why they ever bothered helping you in the first place.
I’m sure Max has problems of his own. He doesn’t need mine and I refuse to give them to him.
Besides I left my problems back in college so technically they aren’t there anymore.
Or at least I can pretend.
Ah the moment of truth arrives.
I hear the person outside breathing hard. They must have ran.
Who would run for me?
The door opens and my heart sinks.
In the doorway is a blushed, out of breath Max Evans.
Max Evans ran for me.
“God Liz, are you okay?”
Funny Max, real funny. I could ask the same of him. I think he might pass out.
“Yes I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine.”
No shit. I just ran out of a room sobbing and he thinks I don’t ‘look’ okay? Way to point out the obvious.
Since I am not okay I really can’t think of anything to say.
“Please Liz. You did this last time. Don’t shut me out.”
God I’ve known him 2 day’s. In 2 day’s there shouldn’t be a ‘last time’.
“Then talk to me.”
I want to. I really do. I should be able to. That what guardian angels are for, right?
But how exactly do you go about telling a guardian angel you love him?
Correction: I like him. You don’t ‘love’ someone you just met. Maybe in movies but not in real life.
In real life there’s heart ache, break ups and long periods of ‘getting to know each other’ time.
If this is how all of our conversations are going to be then I think I want out now.
But his voice is really soothing and even though I can’t see through my tears I’m pretty sure he’s kneeling in front of me.
He places his hands on my knees. I feel all warm and tingly in my knees now. Hehe sounds funny when you say it like that.
“Because Max………..I don’t think you want to know what’s going through my head right now. I mean be honest. We barely know each other.”
There’s a long period of silence and a sigh. I think I’ve hurt his feelings.
I’m glad I can’t see him now. I don’t want to see pain in his eyes.
Too bad I can hear it in his voice when he does speak.
“Look Max I’m sorry I didn’t mean …………….” I begin.
“No Liz I………I… your right. We don’t know each other very well. I shouldn’t have stuck my nose where it didn’t belong.”
Oh God. Why do I keep doing this to myself.
I don’t want to get hurt and end up pushing the people that are ‘created’ to help me.
I can’t think of anything else to say. I want to apologise but it’s not coming out.
He’s moved his hands off my knees now. I think I want to feel that warmth again.
I think I want to be loved.
“You don’t need to apologize Liz. I understand.”
He’s getting up and moving back towards the door.
A part of me wishes he didn’t understand and would beg me until I told him that awful truth.
That I l…li…
Okay time to be honest.
That I LOVE him.
Wasn’t so hard. But then again I was just admitting it to myself.
He’s about to walk out the door and I can’t let him leave thinking whatever he’s thinking.
He turns around. I think maybe he’s teary eyed as well but maybe that’s me just wishing. Aftre all I can’t see anything.
Why can’t I stop crying?!
A really huge fat cat has gotten a hold of my tongue so I just get up and give Max a hug.
I don’t think it say’s anything.
But it’s genuine and I mean it so I hope he knows that too.
“It’s not that I don’t want to tell you Max. I do. I REALLY do. But I………just can’t.”
Funny thing is, this is the most truthful I’ve been in a long time and I didn’t even tell him the WHOLE gory truth.
But still you can’t say I didn’t try.
I must say though it’s an encouragement that his fingers are running through my hair.
I could fall asleep if I let myself.
“I know. I’ll be here though. For when you can tell me.”
Feedback please. You can even tell me it sucks. Critical feedback is better than no feedback lol
|posted on 29-May-2002 12:21:45 AM by Pixie|
|No there are no aliens but I have something planned for later on that ties in with the whole guardian angel thingy.|
I think the next part will be Magali coming to talk to Liz.
I'm not sure how thats gonna turn out cos I haven't written it yet but I hope it will all work out.
hehe I'ts weird that I'm writing this and I know about as much as you of what will happen later in the story!
|posted on 30-May-2002 11:35:34 PM by Pixie|
|~*~Part 10:Carefree~*~ (I’m not sure why I still name these parts but ……. Yeh well.)|
Max left about 5 minutes ago.
I would have liked to stay in his warm hug for longer but time doesn’t stand still for anyone much less me.
So since I can’t have the real thing I am going to indulge in some serious re-living.
And it has nothing to do with the fact I am avoiding the Dehrbey’s. I swear.
And even if it did…….which it doesn’t, my relief and solace is short lived as a tentative knock resounds on my door.
My heart leaps and the familiar feeling from before come rushing back, though now I have little hope that it could be Max.
By the sound of the knock I’m taking a wild guess and saying it’s Magali.
The knock has the air of guilt and confusion not to mention a huge dollop of apprehension.
I can easily match this to her expression earlier when I stumbled back from the table.
This also leads me to believe she knows that she played some part in my quick retrieval from the dining room.
Well okay if we are being honest she is the major player in my removal of the dining room but purely due to my insane jealous outburst.
Which, I am still not over.
The door opens to reveal, surprise surprise, Magali.
She sighs a bit and after a visible internal struggle she decides to cut to the chase.
“Look Liz, I’m really sorry about whatever I did. Please don’t hate me. I would never try to hurt you.”
Oh great. Now not only do I cause problems but I make people feel it is there fault.
“No Magali……. It wasn’t your fault I just……” I trail off hopelessly.
How do you tell someone you’re jealous of them because they were flirting with a guy that barely knows you exist.
I’m sorry but that just is plain weird.
“Just what? Oh my god! Was it me flirting with Max?!”
Bingo. It’s still embarrassing but at least I didn’t have to come up with a way to say it myself.
“Well ummm. Yeah. I….I guess.”
“OH HONEY! Why didn’t you tell me? If I had known you were going out with him I would never have…………”
“No no no I’m not going out with him I just….”
“Like him?” She say’s with a knowing smile.
This is awkward.
“Well…Try ‘love him’.” I say raising my eyebrows to get the point across.
“Oooooooooooooooooooo. So that’s why he ran after you all cute and flustered.” She’s in gossip mode now.
Eye brows a-wiggling with conspiracy.
Wink wink. Nod nod. I really don’t think she gets it. So let’s make it more painfully obvious.
“No Magali. You see he doesn’t love me. In fact he barely even knows I exist. We just met yesterday so I don’t really know why he came after me. Maybe he just thought I needed a friend. Cause that’s all we are. Friends, if that even because…”
“Honey, slow down. You’re running circles around yourself.”
She puts a comforting hand on my shoulder.
Suddenly I’m feeling very relieved. I thought she’d hate but instead she’s practically planning how she can get Max in my clutches.
I obviously don’t know her as well as I’d like to think.
It’s very depressing to think this as I ‘thought’ I knew her and Eloise better than anyone.
“So Max huh? You certainly picked a good one.” She jokes nudging my shoulder.
I giggle despite myself. It feels good and takes me back to my ‘slightly’ more carefree day’s.
Day’s when I’d sit with Maria on her bed giggling about the cheerleaders and which ones we thought were sluts and who happened to be going out with the football captain that year.
There was still the pain of my dad’s death but somehow it was easier to ignore when I had my seemingly ‘terrible’ high school traumas to deal with.
Wondering whether my period came on the day of Brigitte Fontane’s pool party seem liked the most terrible thing in the world.
To be young and carefree again.
Only now I’ve begun to realize that even with suppression and denial technique’s the truth catches up with you eventually.
“I just …. Feel this, I don’t know, connection with him.”
I don’t want to tell her about my guardian angel theory. I like it being special to ME and no one else.
I don’t want anyone to know.
There’s that possessive quality rearing it’s ugly head again.
“Wow. I hope I can find that one day.” She say’s in awe.
Oooo mystery guest. I wonder who.
The door opens and Eloise peaks in.
“Hey guy’s. So has our little ‘problem’ been resolved.”
“Yeh, Liz told me she’s in love with Max.”
With anyone else I would be pissed off.
Magali though isn’t gossiping or being rude she just doesn’t know how not to tell the plain truth.
“Seriously?! I knew it! How could you not. He’s just adorable!”
I should have expected this.
Magali and Eloise live in a protected environment.
This must be like the new of the century to them. It’s endearing really but sometimes I fear that I will stick my foot in my mouth.
I know it could never happen though. They are my friends.
So we just lie here on my bed.
Occasionally one of us will start a story about something that we can all reminisce about. Like the time Magali fell in the pond or when the short order chef was left in charge of the café for 15 and ended up smoking the place out.
When you’re lying on a bed with your 2 best friends, heads touching, thoughts mingling and dreams swirling above your heads it’s easy to remember why people have friends to lean back on.
Friends help you through difficult times and understand you when no one else would.
They say blood is thicker than water but there’s something to say for a true friendship.
Well people I am sooooo grateful for all the feedback. It’s weird to think people actually read this. You do realize I make this crap up on the spot right? I know this part is short but it had to come out before the story can progress further.
LOL I know my writing can’t be that terrible but after reading some peoples fics I am feeling quite unworthy so have decided to quit writing for tonight and come back when I fell more ‘writey-ish’.
Oh and this is kinda major I guess. I’m gonna be going to England this summer to sell our house there and I don’t know if our computer has the internet anymore so apologies if there is a fic famine this summer. I should be able to get some parts out though if I steal my friends computer. LOL
Anyway’s hope you enjoy this part!
P.S: I know it may be weird that Magali and Eloise speak, like, perfect English but I figure they’ve learnt from there dad or something. Plus if you can’t use poetic license then why do we have the term?
|posted on 1-Jun-2002 5:01:21 PM by Pixie|
Awwwwww look at the hamster roll!
hehe anyway's I hope to get a part out soon. It'll probably either be tomoro, tonight or wednesday. It's unlikely I'll have it out on Monday or Tuesday cos I have finals but afetr that I'm a free woman!
I'm all confused about what to put in the next part being as the current conflict was resolved. If anyone has any ideas about what should happen next please b-mail me or you can write them here. Either one.
I know you all would love to see Max and Liz get together but I can't right now.
There will be sweet moments but they both have things that need to be sorted out before they can be together.
I.e Liz's denial and low self esteem.
Plus you will be introduced to Max's problems. Not quite sure what they're gonna be yet though.
But now that I've said that the story could turn in a totally different direction. Like I said I write what comes to me at that moment.
I only have one scene like at the end that I know about. Other than that I'm just typing crap for you wonderful people to read and (hopefully) enjoy!
I just couldn't resist this little guy! He's too cute!
Part 11 coming soon to a thread near you!
|posted on 1-Jun-2002 10:13:16 PM by Pixie|
|Thanx for all the ideas m14! I'll ahve to write them down if I want to remember them all!|
hmmmm spas attacks? Like Tourettes syndrome? LOL that would be funny.
I'm thinking more emotional problems as thats pretty much what the story is dealing with.
Have Max die?? GOD NO!! I wouldn't do that!
Anyways for anyones whose interested I have started a new story called 'Ascending Spirit'. Don't worry it won't interfere with this. I am just gonna be doubley bored this summer.
It's about Liz mostly. It's AU no aliens. M/L I don't want to give the main gist of it away because it's sort of a surprise thingy at the end of the Prologue. LOL Lets just say the word ASCENDING is quite a big hint!
LOL I just totally plugged my own story. COOL!
Well thanx again for all the ideas. Keep em coming!
|posted on 3-Jun-2002 6:39:45 PM by Pixie|
|Wow guy's thanx for all the feedback on this and 'Ascending Spirit'. *TEAR* I love you guys! GROUP HUG!|
Anyway's I have a new part out BEFORE I said I would! Aren't I wonderful. LOL JK.
Anyway this isn't a very turning point part at all. It's even light hearted!*gasp*
But yeh I just had to do a transition part so sorry if it's boring!
Anyway here goes nothing..........
~*~Part 11:Mission Impossible~*~
Agents: Eloise and Magali Dehrbey
Objective: Get Max Evans to notice Liz Parker as more than a “friend”.
See I told you it was mission impossible. Max will never like me as more than a friend. If we are even that!
It could even be harder that mission impossible.
But without the rock climbing and general life threatening situations.
No I think the only thing that’s in danger here is my heart.
But it’s true though. Ever since I told them they’ve been dropping subtle hints at dinner.
That’s big news in itself. Max coming to dinner I mean.
He comes every night now.
Strange, I think, since last time wasn’t exactly the most pleasant experience.
But he does. In fact having staring competitions across the table has become quite a dinner time ritual.
Eloise thinks we are flirting but we aren’t.
‘Yeh right!’ I can hear you say disbelievingly but honestly they are staring competitions.
You’d think we’ve regressed to 7th grade or something.
Another nightly occurrence would be Magali’s conversation starter.
“So Max you like Liz right?”
It’s become quite a joke between Eloise, myself and Max.
“Not really. I find her to be tedious in conversation.”
Eloise will snort because she knows he’s kidding and I pretend to look hurt.
If I’m in a rebellious mood I might even do a repeat performance of the infamous dinner before.
It’s quite funny to see the looks of shock and sympathy on Gabriel and Madame’s face.
Madame gets especially confused because she speaks no English and doesn’t understand why I keep running off.
I think Eloise was even severely spoken to by Madam because she should look out for me in my “time of need.”
Like I said before we have become a group of silly teenagers.
Magali, Eloise, Max and I have become somewhat of a group.
We’re always hanging out in someone’s room.
My favorite time of day however has become the early mornings.
I wake up at the crack of dawn and travel to Max’s room.
Then I just sit on his bed and watch him draw for 2 hours before breakfast.
Sometimes we have conversations and sometimes we just sit in silence.
Max says the morning hours are fountains of inspiration just waiting to be soaked up.
Can you tell I’m in love?
Anyways the thing I love most about his room is the smell.
It’s just so…….him. And I love it.
In fact I love it so much that that’s where I am right at this precise moment.
Magali is out running errands for Madame.
Something above rabbit stew but I was too grossed out to listen further. It may be a delicacy but I have a soft spot for bunnies
You should see me at Easter.
So basically while Magali is out fetching rabbit’s feet or whatever, Eloise and I are in Max’s room.
He’s drawing right now.
Come on all together now : “DUH!”
Lately he’s never without his pencil and paper.
I asked him why and he said that lately he’d been really inspired.
I asked him what and he grinned and said that was for him to know and me to find out.
I tried to decipher what that meant but to no avail.
Looking back I’m starting to appear as an extremely nosy person.
I should stop asking questions.
Nah. If I did I’d just resort to eavesdropping which is like a crime right?
Anyway so Eloise and I are playing Gin Rummy.
It’s getting kinda boring.
“How about Black Jack?”
I bet her dream is to be a dealer in Vegas.
I laugh lightly. The mood is quite and calm. You don’t want to disturb it.
“Sure but we need another player.”
It’s no fun with 2 people.
I look at Eloise and then Max. My victim.
“Oh Maaaaaaxx. Want to play Black Jack?”
Either I’m not being seductive enough or he’s been sucked into his drawing.
When he draws he’s kind of comatose.
I lean over and poke him in the side.
Oh god. He hasn’t even looked up yet.
Eloise grabs his pad of paper.
His head snaps up fast. I bet he has whiplash.
Know the feeling buddy.
“What?!” He say’s almost agitated. Max is very shy and quiet but take away his drawings and watch out!
“Um we wanted to know if you’d play Black Jack with us.”
Eloise has this “I’m sorry for disturbing you, now I’m gonna cry I feel so bad about it” face.
He’s taking hook, line and sinker though so I’m thinking I could use that later.
There’s a moment of victory written across her face for a second but its gone quickly replaced with a little girl whose grandpa just told her he’s buying her a pony.
I should start taking lesson from Eloise.
And Magali for that matter.
I don’t know how they got so good at getting their own way. After all they get pretty much anything they want without even asking.
They both have this way of being blunt but yet not letting on that they know anything.
But enough of me rambling about Eloise and Magali.
I’m in a good mood for once and want to enjoy it playing Black Jack with the un-suspecting love of my life and best friend.
OK so feedback please! Just keep in mind I know this was kinda boring! And hurriedly written.
|posted on 8-Jun-2002 12:48:54 AM by Pixie|
|Hey guy's I'm back! I come bearing a crappy part 12. Now I really think this part sucks. I wrote it in a hurry and wouldn't even post it but I wanted to get a part out before the weekend.|
I have realised (after re-reading my part 1) that my quality in writing has decreased rapidly at unfathomable rates.
I apologise profusely for this.
Anyway I'm gonne post it and hope that you guys don't notice that I was very speedy in writing this and uncarfeul with my choice of words.
~*~Part 12: Rain Kisses~*~
Max asked me to go to the park with him.
I didn’t say anything for a while so he just grabbed my hand and we made our way to the park.
So now here we are.
Sitting in silence.
It’s not an uncomfortable silence like you may think.
It never is with Max for some reason.
We’ve really become the best of friends.
So Max is drawing something. I can never be sure what because every time I ask to see it he say’s no and turns away. It’s getting to be very frustrating as he’s been working on the same picture for about a week now.
So Max is drawing his annoying mystery picture and I am laying down on the bench with my head in his lap. Staring at the initials in the wood.
It’s quite a nice feeling being so close with him. I bask in his closeness.
It’s not very often you get to be this close to the angel of your dreams.
“Let’s go for a walk.”
I twist and look up at Max’s face.
I get up reluctantly from my comfy position and begin to walk in time with Max.
I’m perfectly fine just the way I am and then Max takes his hand and entwines his fingers around mine.
His hand is a lot bigger than mine but I can help but feel like our hands fit together perfectly. Like 2 pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.
Have you noticed yet that I’ve given up pretending I don’t love Max.
Well I have. It doesn’t mean I can let myself be with him but thinking about 24/7 isn’t gonna hurt. Right?
Because thinking won’t hurt but doing could. Especially if we ever had to break apart. I mean we are both Americans in Paris. What are the chances we are going to stay here for the rest of our lives.
It’s already going to hurt me because we are best friends. I don’t want the added pain of being “together”.
The park is a lot bigger than you’d think. It’s already been half and hour and we’ve only made it 2/3 of the way around.
There are heavy clouds forming overhead and it’s started to sprinkle little droplets of rain on my face.
We walk on a bit more enjoying the refreshing smell of the rain.
It’s starting to pour now. I personally don’t mind and looking at the expression on Max’s face I don’t think he’s minds to much either.
I never did understand why people always ran indoors when it rained.
It’s just water. It doesn’t bite.
Plus I’ve saved a fortune from not buying umbrellas.
There’s just this magical feeling when it rains.
When your out in the rain with someone it brings you together in this weird sort of way.
Rain is bonding. Rain is forever. Rain is reoccurring. Rain is freeing.
Rain is love.
It might be an ugly thing to some people but to me it’s perfect and beautiful just the way it is.
Rain also makes me laugh.
So I do.
Max looks at me oddly.
“What’s the matter?”
“Nothing! I love the rain!” I shout above the peals of thunder.
Max laughs in the way you do when you amused by someone.
Puddles are forming in the earth of the pathway.
I stomp in one deliberately, splashing both myself and Max.
In mock anger Max raises and eyebrow and kicks the mudding water at me.
Ha. He thinks he can beat me does he? Poor boy doesn’t know what he’s gotten himself into.
I am the champion of puddle fights.
I run over to a large puddle and kick as hard as I can sending the mud flying at his jacket.
This little war carries on for a few minutes and thankfully both our faces are still clean of mud though I can’t say the same for my hair.
Right now I’m running down a path. Away from Max to be exact; whose jacket is caked in mud and an evil grin adorns his face.
Not being the fastest runner there is Max catches up with me grabbing my arm. I spin around and come inches in front of Max’s face.
He gulps a bit and looks down at my lips.
Oh. My. God.
I hope he doesn’t try to kiss me.
Actually that’s a lie. I want him to kiss me more than anything but I can’t.
Why would he want to kiss me anyway?
I’m dirty and wet and …………..just not kissable.
I’m not a desirable person. I’m not beautiful or anything like that.
I’m plain and mousy and boring.
But he’s staring in my eyes now and his head is lowering.
Before I have the chance to react his lips cover mine in a soft kiss.
Inside my head sparks are flying.
His lips are warm and soft.
They’re warming me from my head to my toes making me forget about the cold and the dirt.
I kiss him back because I’ve had too much of the cold and hurt.
I want the warmth and love just like everyone else.
Maybe he just kissed me on freak impulse but right now I don’t care.
All I know is that the man I love is kissing me and it’s the best feeling I’ve ever had.
Whew got that over and done with. LOL I didn't plan for the ending to be like that. It just sort of came out.
I only hope I can follow on from this using that plot line.
|posted on 10-Jun-2002 12:01:03 PM by Pixie|
|Wow. First off I'd just like to thank everyone for the feedback. m14 appartently lives in a theasaurus! LOL|
It really made my day to see that people really like my story.
Any questions regarding Max's secret.....well you'll have to wait because even I don't know what it is yet.
It will somehow tie in with everything though.
So one of you said. I hope neither of them regret the kiss.
In case I don't make it clear in this part. Liz doesn't regret the kiss. She just thinks it's a lie.
Oops! I've given to much away!!
On with the story before my big mouth gains control of the keyboard!
~*~Part 13: Tears~*~
The kiss ended and I was left with Max’s arm around me and my eye’s closed in bliss as rain trickle down the both of us.
Of course I know that Max doesn’t love me but that doesn’t mean I have to regret the kiss or not enjoy the moment.
However I do though that I can’t let Max continue his charade.
“Max, you can’t do this again. Not when you don’t love me. Not we were getting along so well before.”
I shake my head and pull out of his grasp.
His eyes are closed.
His brows wrinkle in confusion and then his eye’s open as a rain drop trickles down his face.
The silence is thin. You know that something will break it.
He searches my face in pain. Looking for something to say.
How can he break it to me gently? That’s what he’s thinking.
He’s thinking I don’t know about his ‘girlfriend’ back home. Well I don’t technically.
“I’m not pretending Liz.”
Of course he is.
He mistook concern and care for love.
Or maybe this entire time I was his girlfriend back home.
It’s easy to pretend when you have your eyes closed in bliss.
I should know.
“Really Max? I don’t think so. I think you were imagining yourself with you girlfriend back home. I think you were caught in the moment. I think you forgot you my guardian angel. I think you should stop forgetting and pretending and be real.”
“Girlfriend? Guardian angel? Liz, I am being real. For the first time I’m remembering and not pretending.”
I shake my head vehemently.
“No Max. No your not.”
“Yes I am. Liz……..I love you.”
My eye’s widen.
The tables have been turned.
Before I could allow him to ‘forget’ and ‘pretend’ but he’s realized this little revelation all by his lonesome.
Now it’s real.
I back away slowly.
Now is not the time or place to break down.
“No you don’t Max. You don’t. You don’t! Don’t tell me you love me because you DON’T!”
He doesn’t love me.
But I wonder briefly who I am convincing.
Me or him?
But take this into consideration.
Only 2 people my entire life ever told me they loved me.
My mom and dad.
Those 2 people that LOVED me also left me.
Max can’t love me.
Because if he loves me then he also will leave me.
He’s taking tentative steps towards me.
“Liz.” It’s choked and full of pain.
Don’t worry Max.
It will all be over soon.
In a few day’s you’ll forget you ever thought you loved Liz Parker.
I’m easy to forget like that.
“Liz please. Please don’t run away.”
“NO.” It’s fierce and whispered.
It’s also the last thing I say before I turn and run away leaving Max standing in the rain calling my name.
It’s hard to run and cry at the same time.
Though if I’m really crying I can’t be sure.
Tears and rain make a nice combination.
Partners in crime.
Tears are bonding. Tears are forever. Tears are reoccurring. Tears are freeing.
Tears are love.
Think about each one and you know it’s true.
Just like it was for rain.
Written down it’s just a pretty saying to put in a ‘sympathy’ card.
Something to sew on a pillow.
But in your heart of hearts you know it’s true.
Tears and rain have no differences.
They are the same.
Tears hit the initials on the bench on which I lay.
Rain hit’s the bench on which I lay.
The bench is sodden in a rain/tear soup.
I’m sodden in a rain/tear soup.
The bench and I lay sodden together under our respective blankets of clouds and grief.
feedback please. I know this part was sad but what goes down must come up! hehe that didn't make sense but never mind. You know what I'm trying to say right?
|posted on 15-Jun-2002 2:21:21 AM by Pixie|
|Thanx m14 for getting me back on the task at hand. I'm very sorry for stopping Ascending Spirit. Don't hate me!!|
LOL anyway guy's the reason this took so long is actually a very dumb reason: I couldn't think of a title.
I can't write a part of this fic until I've though of a title. It's like the basis of my chapters. Anyway sorry bout the delay but I hope you like this. It's kinda short and not really supposed to max alot of sense. She'd kinda delirious.
~*~Part 14: Cloud Spotting.~*~
It stopped raining about 20 minutes ago.
It doesn’t mean I’m not still drenched.
You know what’s worse than being wet?
When a bitter wind is blowing at you.
Without a mirror I can tell my face is red.
Wind burn I think they call it.
I can’t feel.
It’s not just my body. I can’t feel emotions either.
I blocked them out. I can’t even cry anymore. I can’t talk.
All I can do is lie on my back and watch the grey clouds form and get blow away.
When I was younger I used to watch the puffy clouds with Maria. We used to see who could find a certain animals first.
I can’t see any animals in the clouds today.
Is it because the entire sky is grey or just because I’ve lost my innocent creativity.
I couldn’t care less.
Do you think it’s possible to get frostbite? I don’t. It’s not snowing.
A wet leave falls to the ground.
Not fluttering like a leaf should but heavy, weighted down by the rain.
My heart is cold. I can’t feel it.
I told my guardian angel he didn’t love me.
I ran away from the love of my life.
The third person that ever told me they loved and I pushed them away.
I’m horrible. I don’t deserve to even be on a park bench.
I should be lying in a ditch somewhere.
The sad thing is I want Max to come and get me.
Wrap me in his warm dry arms and tell me he loves me again and that he’d never let me go because he couldn’t. And he wouldn’t because the pain would be to great.
The sadder thing is that he’s not coming. If he wanted to find me he’d know to come here.
But he’s probably hurt and sad.
Maybe even disappointed that I didn’t say I loved him back.
Oh god. I lied to the one person I knew I could trust.
Why did I run?
The cold and wet is making it hard to think.
My head hurts and my heart hurts worse.
Wait didn’t I say I couldn’t feel?
Oh well. It’s all the same.
I’m getting tired now.
I exert myself by being in the cold.
I know it’s probably not the best thing to fall asleep in the cold and wet.
I could get ill.
But I don’t want to leave this park bench until I can go home in Max’s arms.
I don’t want to leave until Max and I can carve OUR initials into the bench besides my parents.
I don’t want to leave this bench until I’ve told Max that I love him more than anyone.
That I trust him with my heart. Something I haven’t done in a long time.
I don’t want to leave this bench because if I leave then I’ve given up.
And I’m just weaker than I want to be.
So I’m not going to leave this bench.
|posted on 18-Jun-2002 11:26:21 PM by Pixie|
|First of all I'm sorry about not updating sooner. I am quite lazy and didn't bother to write anything until tonight.|
But I have to say I'm glad I waited because I couldn't think what to write and this came out. I think I did pretty well on this part.
Its a peek into Max's POV about his ISSUE. Oooooooo everyones intrigued now. LOL
Anyway it will most likely be the only Part with his POV.
Anyways I hope you guys enjoy a trip into Max's head!
~*~Part 15: Ordinary Star. ~*~
(For the first and most likely last, time Ladies and Gentlemen I present Max’s POV!)
When I was younger I wanted nothing more than to be a super hero.
I wanted to fly with the world at my feet.
When I was an adolescent I wanted nothing more than to fall in love.
But even though I was told that I could have any girl in school I looked to the left of me and saw nothing.
I looked to the right and saw nothing.
I turned around and saw nothing.
Maybe I was too blind to see beyond my own nose or maybe I just knew what I wanted wasn’t there.
I remember my aunt taking me to France once and dragging me to the Musee d’Orsay when I was 14.
Me being the pessimistic fool I was I complained the entire time.
But afterwards while I was drinking Orangina and watching the roller skaters outside the museum I realized that art was what I wanted.
Not what I ‘wanted nothing more than’ but I felt this little space in my head fill up.
It was like a door had opened and someone had said ‘See that road ahead of you? It will direct you to what your heart yearns for.’
Those roller skaters were the first picture I ever drew.
I guess I could explain why I came to Paris but I don’t really have a good reason.
I just hopped a plane to Paris with a few clothes and a sketch book with no intention of ever going back.
You see my father was abusive. Not a drunk just abusive.
Surprisingly not to me. To my mother.
I pity my mother but they both hated me.
Hated me so much that they never touched a hair on my head.
Maybe that’s why my father didn’t hit me.
So imagine me, a 10 year old kid, sitting on his front porch swearing to god that he would never hurt the person he loved and wishing on ordinary stars that someday, somewhere, someone would just cross his path.
Someone that he could love.
Someone that I could love.
So for the longest time I waited for someone to love.
My time was spent sitting on the doorstep watching and obsessing.
I was a love struck kid waiting to happen but not once during my childhood did I have a crush.
Most people thought I was gay and I can’t say I blamed them. It certainly didn’t help my case when I came back from France a budding artist.
So to cut a long boring story to a short boring story I left.
My mother and father are god knows where doing god knows what.
He’s probably killed her. Or maybe she killed him.
Violence can takes weird twists like that.
So a homeless wandering me in the streets of Paris and I stumble across a park.
I head towards one of the benches knowing that darkness is closing in.
I lie down on it bracing myself against the cold damp wood and glace up.
My eyes are drawn to a pair of initials.
J.P + N.S
And for some reason even though I had no connections to these people I found myself wanting to be in their shoes.
I wanted someone I could carve my initials with on that same bench.
My last thoughts before falling asleep?
The feeling was stronger when I awoke and found myself staring at a man.
He asked me if I needed a place to stay and before I could collect my thoughts to answer I was being ushered towards a Café across the street.
Luck you say?
I say fate.
The family was welcoming but I just wanted to hide away until my dream girl came.
Not very assertive but I was never one to go out and get what I wanted. I tended to sit and wait.
Over the days the feeling grew stronger and I couldn’t help but feel this fluttering when I overheard them talk about this Liz Parker that was coming to stay.
It caused much excitement around the house and I reveled in it.
Not because I knew this person but because I WANTED to.
Then she arrived and I felt nervousness. It was worse after I saw a glimpse of her through my cracked door.
I was intrigued. Absurd as it was I wanted this person to know me but I was too afraid to act.
The feeling in the pit of my stomach told me ‘This is the girl you were waiting for on you porch all those years ago.’
I skipped breakfast that morning and went outside to the park.
It was becoming my home away from home.
For a while I just watched the Café. Waiting for something to happen.
And it did.
The dark haired girl of my 10 year old wishes came walking towards the park. In my direction.
She was crying and I realized that she needed love as much as I needed to love someone.
That sounds like we could end up using each other but when someone is made for you it doesn’t add up to all that bull shit.
It’s love. Plain and simple.
She sat down on the bench across my mine and I was transfixed as she traced the initials I had traced only nights before.
I was speechless and the only thing I could do was draw.
I needed something solid of her.
What if she was a figment of my cruel imagination.
I wanted to remember every curve and emotion on her face.
And then she talked to me.
And I found my voice.
Strange how it can come back when you least expect it.
And then I was in love with her.
We talked, we sat in silence.
Just being in the same air space as her was bliss.
She opened me up.
In small ways like dinner, and big ways like my heart.
And when she cried I wanted nothing more than to hold her.
And when she laughed I wanted nothing more than to be the one who made her laugh.
You say my dreams became more petty.
I say you don’t know true love.
And now I wanted nothing more than for her to love me back.
Being friends with Magali and Eloise is nice but I truly love the times where it is just me and her.
She will ask me what I’m drawing and I can’t tell her that I’m drawing her.
Obsessions this fierce can throw people off.
It can make them hate you.
I would rather die than have Liz hate me.
It seems though that I am doomed for she does hate me.
Or at least does not want to be near me.
Why you ask?
I took a chance tonight.
I took a chance in the rain.
How could I not when she looks so radiant with her red cheeks and wet, wind blown hair.
Ravishingly unkempt in that cute way that only makes you love a person more.
So I took a chance and kissed her.
I took a bigger chance and told her I loved her.
And she told me that I didn’t.
She cried about girlfriends and guardian angels. None of which I’ve ever had.
And she ran off leaving me calling her name desperately.
I should never gamble. I don’t take good chances.
So now I’m wandering around the park looks for her.
Sucks that this is such a big park.
I should go home before I catch a cold but obsession doesn’t let you run away.
It keeps me searching for her. Praying that she’s OK. Hoping that she doesn’t hate me.
I thought I saw something in her eyes tonight that told me she loved me but I guess I was wrong.
Filled with despair I search for an answer to where she might be.
And as I turn the last corner I see her lying on the initial bench shivering.
I curse my stupidity for not knowing the obvious place and begin to walk towards her.
Why take all this trouble you ask?
Because even though I may not have snowflakes chance in hell with her I still love her.
And would you leave the one you loved outside in the bitter rain?
I didn’t think so.
So was all my effort worth it? I hope so.
I think this may be my longest part yet. A whole 6 pages! Woohoo! LOL
Anyway I'd love feeback because this is the first time I've ever done Max's POV. In fact this is the forst good story I've ever written. LOL I should work on that.
|posted on 21-Jun-2002 11:07:39 PM by Pixie|
|First of all a big THANK YOU to:|
Cooliez, MelodyCrsh47, m14(!!!), Wench On A Leash(!!!), Free Fall, AvengingAngelIQ, marteloise, applebybehr,Nana, ISLANDGIRL5, Juliette,
SweetCherryKat, aZNroSweLl anglgrl, Eccentric One, mpls muse, nayney and anyone else who's left feedback.
m14-I would still write parts even if you were the only reader! LOL
Anyway I really want to have a part out for you guys but alas Writers Block struck me and so I can't. You see I have emotional attachment to this fic. This isn't like Wallflower Society where I can just type parts and hope they don't suck to much. I have to make this GOOD!!
So anyway I will try to fight this block and come back as quickly as possible.
Until then everyone please go read my new fic "The Wallflower Society". hehe You might like it.
So ya.........thats it.
|posted on 25-Jun-2002 9:27:11 PM by Pixie|
|Apologies all around!!! I'm ashamed to say I have been absent for a very very long time.|
But I am here now with a new part so I get some credit right? LOL
I'm not sure if you will like this because I wrote it in a hurry trying to appease the masses but I hope you do because I'd hate for this to go sour on me. It's my first fic and I've tried so hard to keep it good!! Constructive criticsm is always welcomed though. Can fix it until ya knows theres a problem.
I may rewrite this part if I read it and it's complete crap but I'll warn you so you can go read it again.
Anway one with the story....
~*~Part 16: Eyes Wide, Open Soul~*~
I don’t remember falling asleep on the bench.
I remember cold and rain and agony then nothing.
Maybe that’s when I was asleep. It doesn’t really matter in the first place because I open my eyes because something is crying my name.
Look up and Max is there sobbing his eyes out. Maybe it’s because my face is blue or the fact that I’m drenched to the bone.
“Max?” I hate that my voice is croaky and weak.
“Liz! I’m so glad I found you!”
Then why are you crying? Are you crying for me?
“Why are you here?”
I hate when people ask that question when they know perfectly why. I on the other hand have no idea.
Would come after someone who refused you? Not likely. The embarrassment would be great.
“God Liz. It’s raining and cold and I couldn’t just leave you out here.”
So I start crying.
I don’t know why.
Maybe because my head and heart hurts and he’s confusing me to no end.
Maybe it’s because it’s cold and I want to go home but not without telling him I love him.
So many reasons and I can’t settle on one because I’m spinning around and around and I can’t see clearly.
He hugs me clearing away a bit of that thick fog.
I tremble underneath his touch wondering why he came after me.
“Come on lets take you home.”
Then he picks me up. I know it’s wrong because I haven’t told him how much I love him.
And he still doesn’t know what I feel.
It’s wrong to use other people’s kindness to your advantage when they think you hate them.
It would be wrong of me to breathe his smell in deeply and smile.
He looks up sharply and I can see pain.
Probably thinks I don’t want him touching me.
He sets me down and turns to walk away.
“Ok you can walk by yourself. Sorry.”
I grab his hand. There are a few things he needs to know.
“No Max. I mean we can’t leave yet.”
I’m confused, he’s confused and the sun is trying to shine through those overbearing clouds so I guess it’s confused as well.
“Because I need to tell you something.”
You can tell he doesn’t want to hear this.
He’s stiffens and prepares for another onslaught of choice words that tell him how much I hate him.
Instead I pull him down to sit beside me and explain.
Explain about my parents and the reason I came here.
I explain about guardian angels and jealousy induced panic attacks.
I explain about crying and initialed benches and hate and then I explain why I ran.
“Because I love you.”
A smiles lights up his face and he hugs me. Like he doesn’t want to let go.
I understand. I didn’t want to let him go when he kissed me but I had to didn’t I?
Things had yet to be said and I still can’t kiss him because Max needs to explain too.
And he does. He wants me to know him like he knows me. It’s not fair to know someone soul and not have them know yours.
So he must explain.
Explain about his mother and father.
Explain about friends and roller skaters in front of museums.
Explain about porches and wishes that didn’t come true until he met me.
Explain about what he draw and why.
Explain about initialed benches and how he saw that I needed to be loved.
Explain about how much he wanted to be the person to give me that love.
I wonder about how well he knows me considering I never really opened my self up.
I wonder why he loves me even though I’m so messed up.
I wonder why I’m not so confused anymore.
It’s all ok though because he looks in my eyes and I don’t need to be anywhere else except here.
Love can make you forget that you are soaked and cold.
Love is like some protective energy that just swirls around you.
Love makes you dizzy and light headed.
Like those rides at the fair ground. They twist you around and upside down. Even make you a little sick. But it’s exhilarating and when you get off all you can think about is how much you’d like to get back on.
Not exactly the best analogy especially if you tend to get motion sickness but I tried.
So now Max and I can sit here for ever and ever knowing that we love each other.
Except I don’t want to die of pneumonia and something tells me that being in Max’s arms in a warm house is even better than this.
He lifts me up for the second time.
“Lets go home and get dry. I don’t want you to catch a cold.”
He kisses me on my cheek.
He’s sweeter than I imagined him being.
We still have one thing left to do.
“No? Why not?”
Max must be really worried. I’d be.
I’ve told him “No” a lot today and let’s face it. 50% of the times it was bad news.
“I want to carve our initials on the bench because I love you and you love me.”
He smiles. He wants to be with me forever. I can tell. He’s looking at me like my dad looked at my mom.
“Ok.” He grabs my hand and using his free one pulls out a pocket knife and begins to draw a heart.
He overlaps the corner of our heart with my mom and dad’s heart. Because Max and me share one heart and soul and mind as did my mom and dad.
Then we carve our initials in it.
M.E & L.P
Max is an artist so he can do the curly “and”. It looks beautiful.
So this is the part of the story where I tell you that we looked up and the sun was shining brightly drying up the rain.
But that’s not true. It’s still pouring and Max and I are still cold and wet.
But I’ve said before rain is equal to love.
And real life is much better than fantasy even if you are wet and your mascaras running.
It would be nice if my makeup was perfect and my hair done. Very movie screen-ish.
However I’m pale and freezing but I’m in the arms of a man who loves me so it doesn’t really matter a whole lot does it?
So hows that for under 25 minutes?
Rush delivery can get messy so tell me if it sucked.
|posted on 25-Jun-2002 10:53:39 PM by Pixie|
|Hey everyone. I highly suggest you go read roswellianprincess16's fic True Destiny and it's sequel A New Beginning.|
They are really fantastic fics and they need feedback!!!
I need to go read the sequel myself! Anyhoo they're really good so go read it or no more parts!
Just kidding. I would never do that to you! I'm too nice!
|posted on 29-Jun-2002 2:59:51 AM by Pixie|
|I think this deserves a little Authors Note too becasue I have been very bad at keeping up with this!|
It's just that I have this scene planned for the end and now that we've gotten over the major hill theres seems nothing left but to do that. But that means the fic will have ended!
I am very emotionally connected to this fic so I am hanging on by a thread(no pun intended) thinking of some plot line.
So I'm putting it to a vote.
A) Finish this fic and I could start a new one (maybe).
B)Break them up then put them back together again.
or C) Choose another plot line (ie. her mother being the bitch she is).
We have Max and Liz together but now what do we do?
If B or C is chosen there will be some conflict(is it me or do I like this word to much?) going on in there relationship. Especially with the mother thing. Liz could potentially go back into repression and stuff.
I don't know I'm being weird. I ate to much chocolate whcih I don't normally do and it makes my brain funny.
|posted on 5-Jul-2002 4:17:28 PM by Pixie|
|Okay guy's I had an idea.|
I've been stuck with this because although I don't want to let the story go I think it would be best to just have my ending scene and be done. Otherwise it could drag on forever in a boring manner.
But since I am a people pleaser I thought I should end this story and then start with a new plot line in a sequel. It may sound stupid considering I could just go with another plot line in this story but I think I could do a better job if Paris Blues is out of the way. Clean slate as it were.
Plus it means I can get a part out to you sooner! YAY!
LOL I probably won't be able to start the sequel until the new school year as I'm leaving next week but still I think this would be a better idea.
Also depending on how The Wallflower Society pans out I'm thinking of starting a new fic. It'll be sort of based on the book 'Brother in the Land.' which I read 2 years ago.
If anyone has read it it won't be completely based on it. Basically the only similar things will be a nuclear explosion. Probably won't even have a brother.
That fic (if I do write it) won't be out for AGES though because I need to re-read the book to gather some facts.
Anway I hope this all can clear up some concerns and what not.
Please feel free to reply or b-mail me with any input.
Help is always appreciated.
|posted on 10-Jul-2002 3:35:26 PM by Pixie|
|After much thought and consideration I have decided to end this.|
As to a sequel I can't say but it's likely I will.
I wrote this part quickly which I didn't want to do.
I wanted to make this ending really rememberable which I hope it is!
Feedback would really be appreiciated considering it's the end of my first ever fanfic!!
We've come a long way kids.
Anyway I really appreicaite all of you who read this fic and enjoyed it. Especially Michaela, my stalker, who may cry now that it's all over. I wouldn't have been able to write this without you constant stalkerness. (Same goes for The Wallflower Society!)
Anyway this part is for all of you!
Hope you like it!!
Part 17: A Not So fairy Tale Ending.
You want a fairy tale ending don’t you?
One where Max sweeps me up and carries me home.
One where he can’t stop touching me because he say’s I’m too precious.
One where we fall asleep in each other arms and wake up the next day full of hope and love.
I won’t disappoint you on that front.
All that did happen but real fairy tale endings? One where they lived happily ever after?
Those don’t exist in real life.
Sure our love is deeper and stronger than any prince or princess but love can’t heal everything?
It can make it better and easier to bear but it can’t take it away.
Do you think my father’s death doesn’t burn just because Max loves me?
Do you think my mothers’ abandonment doesn’t still spur anger and hurt?
I would be lying if I said it did.
Waking up in the mornings with Max besides me doesn’t take my troubles away.
It just gives me something to look forward to. To thank God for.
Max told me the other day that he would help me find my mother if I wanted.
I said I’d think about it. I’m not so sure I want to see her anyway.
Life is still normal you should know. I just have someone to share it with.
We still sit in his room with Eloise and Magali. He still draws except now I’m aware of his eyes on me between the strokes of the charcoal.
It still rains and it still is sunny.
This is the real thing.
And I wouldn’t change it for the world.
I found a post card under my pillow this morning.
It was a copy of that Robert Doisneau photo of the couple kissing outside Le Baiser de L’hôtel de Ville.
On the back was written:
“Love expands all generations and times.”
Max had written it.
I laugh because it’s true.
People were still in love in the 1950’s and they be in love in 100 years should the world exist for that long.
When I run downstairs I find Max at the bottom. He twirls me around much the enjoyment of Eloise before setting me down.
He grabs my hand and rushes me out the door.
I ignore the cat calls from Magali and pretend I don’t noticed the knowing smiles from Madame and Gabriel.
I ask where we were going and he doesn’t say a word. He just looks at me silently asking me to trust him.
I trust him so I don’t ask again. I run with him.
We reach a street and he looks up at the building then to this café across the road. He tugs my hand again and directs me to a seemingly precise spot all the while holding my hand.
I look up inquisitively and he leans down and catches my lips between his.
I could have stayed there forever but the kiss, like all kisses, ended and all was left was 2 people in love very short of breath.
The morning fog makes for a wonderful contrast against my flushed cheeks.
I look up at the building and the Café behind us.
Although I know I’ve never been here it’s seems somehow familiar.
“Where are we?” I breathe.
Max wraps his arms around me and whispers is my ear making me shiver although I could blame it on the crisp morning air.
I look around me once more and realize he’s right.
And I begin to wonder exactly how many couples have kissed on this spot.
And how many were captured on film.
And how many were as magical as ours and the mystery couple’s.
We kiss again. The electricity sparking in the already static
That’s what it’s like after it rains. Charged.
It’s cloudy again today. It rained last night.
It’s foggy and dull and a cold is going around town.
People’s faces are red and so is mine.
My lips are chapped and yet that was the best kiss I’ve ever had.
So even with all the imperfect details of life it’s so much more promising and beautiful.
So go tell Snow White her sunset better last a long time.
And tell Cinderella that her charmed life better be as charmed as they say it is.
And tell Sleeping Beauty that her fairy tale ending is highly over rated because I’VE got the real thing.
So what did you think?
Crappy ending????????? I hope not! But tell me your thoughts anyway!
[ edited 1 time(s), last at 10-Jul-2002 3:36:01 PM ]